Blinking in confusion, he struggled to understand her agitation. "Why? It's no big deal, I—"
"Daniel." Her voice, low but firm, cut through his words. Hands clutched tightly in her lap, she leaned in. "I'm serious. Please."
Though the reason for her distress eluded him, the genuine worry in her eyes prompted a quick nod. "Okay, okay. I won't say anything. I promise."
A shaky breath escaped her, but tension lingered in her posture, her fingers fidgeting with an anxious energy.
Across the table, Matt picked up on the unease and leaned forward, trying to lighten the mood. "So, Sam, you and Daniel work together, huh? What do you do?"
The pause stretched as she processed his question. "Yeah, we… work together," she replied, leaving it deliberately vague.
He caught the hesitation, casting her a concerned look. "Sam, what's going on? Why are you so freaked out?"
Her gaze flicked around, landing briefly on the bartender now occupied with another customer. "It's… complicated, Daniel. You don't understand."
"Then help me understand." His voice was gentle, urging.
A hard swallow preceded her reply, eyes brimming with worry as they shifted back to him. "I've worked so hard, Daniel. For everything. And if someone finds out, if they…" Her voice cracked, leaving the sentence unfinished. "I'll lose everything. My career, my—"
His frown deepened, piecing together her words with growing concern. "Sam, what do you mean? You didn't tell her about—"
A sharp look cut him off, her voice trembling with unmasked fear. "You don't get it. It's different for me. I can't let people know. Don't ask, don't tell—it's not just some rule, Daniel. It's… it's my whole life."
Her words hit him like a punch. The reality of her situation suddenly dawned on him, and he felt a wave of guilt for being so clueless. It wasn't about the SGC in particular. It was because of the military. For Sam, it wasn't just about casual flirting. For her, not only as a woman in the military, but someone as accomplished and high-ranking, being outed could destroy everything she had worked for. "Don't Ask, Don't Tell". Daniel never considered its effects, but for someone like Sam her sexuality wasn't just personal, it was dangerous.
"Oh, Sam," Daniel whispered, his heart aching for her. "I didn't realize. I'm sorry."
Her gaze dropped, fingers trembling slightly as they gripped the edge of the table. "Just… please don't say anything. Not to anyone."A serious nod confirmed her request. "I won't. I promise."
Though a small, grateful smile touched her lips, tension clung to her features. Across from them, Matt watched the exchange in silence, sipping his drink with a puzzled look as he glanced back and forth, clearly missing the undercurrents.
Straightening in her seat, she put on the familiar, stoic mask Daniel had seen so often in the field—the one that declared nothing could touch her. But cracks showed in the way her hands fidgeted, fingers curling and uncurling against the worn leather of her jacket. Her eyes occasionally darted toward the bartender, who was casting a watchful gaze from the other end of the bar, silently asking, *Are you okay?*
Abruptly, she stood, as if her decision to leave had just crystallized. "I should go," she murmured, her voice tight and hurried.
A gentle hand on her wrist stopped her mid-step. "Sam, wait. Please."
For a heartbeat, she froze, her eyes darting from his hand on her wrist to his face, and he quickly released her, showing his open palm. "Please, Sam. Just give me five minutes."
Hesitation flickered over her face, torn between flight and staying put. After a tense breath, she sank back into her seat, casting another anxious glance toward the bartender, whose eyes held a protective glint as she monitored them. Her concern, only increasing Sam's unease, was unmistakable.
Leaning in, Daniel kept his voice low and gentle. "Look, Sam… I don't care. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I did. I didn't realize what you were really saying earlier. But I swear, I'm not going to tell anyone. Not the military, not anyone."
Her gaze stayed on the table, jaw clenched tight, her posture defensive. Though her silence spoke volumes, she was listening.
He pressed on, voice unwavering. "I mean it. I don't care if you're a lesbian or bisexual, whatever. That's not what matters to me." A brief pause as he chose his words carefully. "What matters is you, Sam. I just want you to be happy. That's all I want. And back there, you were happy with her. That's enough for me."
A swallow caught in her throat, her eyes lifting for a split second.
"I won't tell a soul," he promised again. "Least of all the military." He let out a soft chuckle, hoping to ease the tension. "They'd be foolish to lose someone like you over something like this. You're brilliant. The best. Anyone who doesn't see that… they're the ones missing out, not you."
The corner of her mouth twitched to a reluctant smile she didn't quite trust herself to release.
"You're not just a great soldier—you're a great person. And anyone who tries to take that from you… they're idiots."
Having quietly observed so far, Matt finally spoke up, voice thoughtful. "He's right, you know. I was reading that homosexuality is natural, even in animals—dolphins, lions, penguins. Discriminating against people for it? That's complete bullshit."
Surprise flickered in her eyes as she looked at Matt.
Leaning forward, Matt's expression was earnest. "I'm with Daniel. What someone does in their personal life? Nobody else's business. It doesn't make you any less of a person, and it sure as hell doesn't make you any less of a badass at your job. The military—or anyone—would be blind not to see that."
Gratitude washed over Daniel as Matt's support landed just when Sam needed it. Though Matt barely knew her, he was defending her without a second thought, and slowly, her tension started to ebb as both of them tried to reassure her.
"And trust me," Matt added, nodding in Daniel's direction, "he won't say anything. I'd vouch for that. He'd rather die than betray a friend."
A soft smile tugged at Daniel's lips, feeling grateful. "Yeah," he said, eyes back on Sam. "You don't have to worry. I've got your back."
A pause hung in the air, thick with the emotions they'd yet to voice. Her hands still shook slightly, but her breathing calmed, and she seemed to be absorbing their words. At last, she looked up, meeting Daniel's gaze with a tentative question in her eyes.
"You really don't care?" she asked quietly, voice so fragile it seemed to teeter on disbelief. It did not fit the self-confident woman he had gotten to know in the last year and it bothered him to hear that vulnurability with none of her normal snark or easy manner.
He shook his head. "Not at all. You're still Sam, and you're still my friend. That's all that matters."
Her face softened, a hint of relief lighting her eyes. The nod she gave was small, hesitant, but genuine.
"Thanks," she whispered, barely audible. "I didn't realize you'd be… so understanding."
"Of course I am," he said, his tone gentle. "I'm your friend." He would say it another fifty times if he needed to
Another flicker of her gaze toward the bartender, who continued watching, brow knit in concern. Heat crept up her cheeks and Daniel supressed a smirk. Had Jack seen her like this, he would not let his 2IC live it down. Damn it, Jack would have a field day with Sam oogling that woman and Daniel knew for a fact his friend wouldn't mind Sam's sexuality beyond the teasing it would allow him to do. But still, he'd promised he wouldn't tell.
He smiled reassuringly. "You should talk to her, you know," he suggested gently. "You deserve to be happy. Don't let anyone—or anything—take that from you."
As if sensing their conversation, the bartender approached their table, her eyes lingering on Sam with a look that was both gentle and focused, checking in on her without pressing too hard.
"Hey," she greeted softly, her voice steady. "Everything okay over here? Anyone need anything?"
The prior playful banter absent, she spoke with a warmth that reached through her gaze. Daniel could see she was really asking if Sam was okay, a protective energy shining through.
Straightening a bit, Sam smiled, the faint blush stubborn on her cheeks. "No, thanks," she replied softly. "I'm good."
With a nod, the bartender glanced between them. "Just thought I'd check. I could call a taxi or something if you need it," she added casually, her hand moving to rest on the back of Sam's chair, clearly ready to intervene if needed. Daniel winced at the idea how the scene might have looked from an outsider's perspective.
Shaking her head, Sam waved her off, the shadow of a smile on her lips. "No, no, I'm fine. Really."
With the awkwardness heavy on the room, Daniel cleared his throat The bartender's concern for Sam was obvious, and as much as he appreciated her protective instinct, he didn't want her to think he was part of the problem. He caught Sam's eye, silently asking if she was okay with him speaking. Sam gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod, her expression still tense but a little more at ease than before.
"Uh, hey," Daniel began, offering the bartender a tentative smile. "I just wanted to apologize for, uh… causing a bit of a disruption earlier." He gestured vaguely between himself and Sam, trying to explain without making things worse. "I'm Daniel, by the way. We work together. Her seeing me here just caught her off guard."
The bartender's gaze sharpened slightly, her posture straightening. "Caught her off guard?" she asked, her tone now laced with a cool edge. "Why would that freak her out?"
Swallowing, Daniel glanced at Sam again. He didn't want to speak for her. After a moment's hesitation, Sam inhaled deeply and looked down at the table, her voice quiet and uncertain when she spoke.
"It's because…" She trailed off, clearly uncomfortable, but the bartender's shifting attention seemed to give her a sliver of courage. "It's because no one at work knows I'm lesbian," she admitted in a low voice, just loud enough for the bartender to hear. "And if they did… I could lose my job."
There was a beat of silence. The bartender's expression softened, her gaze fixed on Sam with an intensity that was almost palpable. Gone was the playful energy she'd had earlier, replaced by something fiercer, more serious. She slowly crouched down so she was at Sam's eye level, her hand hovering just shy of touching her arm, as if offering comfort but respecting the distance.
"I'm sorry," the bartender said quietly, her voice gentle but resolute. "I get it. It's bullshit and shouldn't be that way but I realise it still is. I'm sorry."
Sam's lips trembled into a weak smile, but her anxiety was still evident. "It's just… it's not safe. Not yet."
Guilt tightened Daniel's chest. He hadn't intended to put Sam in such a vulnerable position, but seeing the way the dark-haired woman looked at her—like she'd go to war for her if it came to that—eased some of his worry. At least Sam had someone here who had her back, even if it was someone she'd just met.
To give the two women some space, Daniel leaned but he still wanted both of them to know - if only to keep the bartender's ire off himself. "Look, I didn't mean to freak you out," he said softly. "I won't out you, or anything. I would never do that. I'm sorry if… if it felt like I put you in that position."
Sam shook her head, her expression softening as she glanced at him. "I know, Daniel. It's okay. It's just… complicated."
For a moment, the bartender remained crouched, her gaze lingering protectively on Sam. Then she stood in a fluid motion and turned back to Daniel, assessing him with a newfound curiousity. "So, you're not here to cause trouble for her?"
Daniel raised his hands in mock surrender, giving her an earnest look. "Definitely not. I'm just… a colleague. A friend. I just didn't realize how this would come across. I'm sorry."
The bartender studied him for a moment longer before giving a slight nod, her posture relaxing. "Alright." She glanced back at Sam, her expression softening again. "If you ever need anything… you know where to find me. Or if you want me to get rid of him," she added with a faint smirk, "just say the word."
Despite her offer to get rid of Daniel, the woman lingered, her gaze still on Sam, as if deciding whether to return to the bar or stand guard. There was a quiet, almost unspoken agreement that the tension wasn't entirely gone yet, and Daniel sensed she wasn't leaving until she was sure Sam was alright.
"So," the bartender said, crossing her arms in front of her but keeping her posture loose. "You two work together?"
Gods, Daniel hated that part. And he'd just gotten through it with Matt. Explaining what you did for a living with all the secrecy around it was one hell of a motivator to cut ties with anyone from his former life and to avoid any new acqaintances. "Yeah, in a way. We're part of a… team." He avoided going into too much detail. He needed to work on his delivery, it seemed, for the woman raised a brow at him before her eyes flicked to Sam, as if trying to match them into a job where they worked together. Daniel wasn't sure if he should feel insulted that apparently the idea seemed so strange to the bartender.
"Tough gig?" she asked Sam, her voice still gentle.
More relaxed now though still fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve, Sam nodded slightly. "Yeah. It can be. High stress, long hours."
"I figured." The bartender's lips quirked into a brief smile, though her eyes stayed focused on Sam. "You attacked that steak as if you hadn't eaten in weeks. And the fries. And the nuggets."
Daniel snorted. When he'd first gotten to know Sam he'd been surprised how much the woman could eat. That had been before he knew the hours she put in at the gym, her physique mostly hidden by fatigues and now leather biking gear. And, of course, Sam forgot to eat when engaged with her science projects. "She never takes a break. Trust me, I've tried."
Sam shot him a sideways look, but it lacked any real bite, and he could tell she was calming down. "I do take breaks, Daniel," she said with a half-smile. "It's just that there is a lot at stake and the quicker I figure out how everything works, the more efficient we can work."
Unimpressed, Daniel raised both brows at her. "When I came to work this morning, you still hadn't left. And I had taken yesterday off. You've been there for three days and Sam, I am telling you, your house plants are dead and it's your fault."
The bartender stilled for a moment, and a slow smile spread across her face as she processed Daniel's words. "Sam, huh?" she said softly, clearly liking the sound of the name. There was a warmth in her voice that hadn't been there before, and she met Sam's eyes with a more personal connection. "Well, Sam, since you seem to miss meals as well as neglect your house plants, can I bring you something else? On the house."
Sam smiled again, but this time there was a touch of embarrassment in it. She knew what was coming next, and she sighed a little, her grin turning self-deprecating. "Thanks, but I'm fine. And as for the whole… working too much thing, well—" She paused, glancing at Daniel and Matt before finishing, "—I'm in the military. I have a bunk on base and we have a commissionery. It's not that I don't take breaks or don't eat."
The bartender's smile faltered for a second as understanding dawned. "Ah." Her tone softened even more, and her eyes reflected a deep empathy. Apparently, she understood the implications to Sam's job immediately and drew the correct conclusions to their earlier conversation of Sam being out at work. She reached out and touched Sam's shoulder, offering her a quiet moment of support and reassurance. "That makes sense." She paused, then asked, "Which branch?"
"Air Force," Sam replied.
The bartender gave a soft, almost rueful smile, her eyes flicking briefly to the other customers in the bar as if checking if anyone was paying attention. Satisfied that they weren't, she leaned in just a little, speaking quietly. "My brothers—both older—one's in the Army, the other's Navy." She gave a small shrug. "My Army brother... well, he's gay. Got booted a couple years back because of it."
Sam's eyes widened slightly in sympathy, her shoulders visibly relaxing as the woman shared her story. "I'm sorry," Sam said, and there was a deep sincerity in her voice. "That's awful."
The bartender shook her head. "Yeah, it sucked. He was a damn good soldier. But, you know, they didn't really care how good he was." She let out a small, bitter laugh. "It's such crap. He worked his whole life for that, and then... just gone."
Sam nodded, her lips pressed together tightly, clearly understanding the weight of that experience all too well. "It's the same for me," she admitted quietly. "I've worked so hard to get where I am, and one wrong move… I lose everything."
The bartender's eyes softened, her hand still resting gently on Sam's shoulder. "I get it," she said quietly. "But for what it's worth, you've got at least one person who doesn't give a damn about any of that." She smiled warmly, and squeezed Sam's shoulder, silently promising to keep Sam's secret safe.
Watching the interaction, Daniel had a sense of relief washing over him. He had been worried about how the woman might react to Sam's complicated situation. It might have scared her away, knowing that Sam might not be able to give her what she wanted. Nut the woman had stepped up, offering Sam the kind of support he couldn't fully give in this particular situation.
Seated beside them, Matt nodded slightly. "You know, it's good to hear someone else say that. People should be allowed to just... live. Be who they are without all this judgment." He glanced at Daniel, a smile breaking through. "I've got two daughters, and we try to raise them to know that love is love. Doesn't matter who it's with."
Sometimes, Matt's natural ability to find the right words at the right time still astounded Daniel. Even though Matt had said nothing new, the finality of it seemed soothing and the way he brought up his daughters turned the issue into a more worldly and less personal one."Exactly," he added, looking at Sam with a soft smile. "The world's changing. Slowly, but it's changing. And it's only going to get better from here."
Sam's eyes flicked between Daniel, Matt, and the bartender, and for the first time since she'd sat down, she seemed to relax fully. She still had her guard up, but it wasn't quite as high as before. "I hope so," she said, her voice soft, almost vulnerable.
With a gentle squeeze of Sam's shoulder, the bartender stepped back. "If you need anything, just holler."
A genuine smile broke across Sam's face, blue eyes lighting up with gratitude and relief. "Thanks," she replied seriously and she turned to watch the woman go. The bartender caught her gaze and this time, flirtation returned into the woman's parting grin.
They sat together in quiet conversation for another hour. Matt told Sam of his daughters and their conversation had been easygoing. However, Sam's attention kept drifting away and every few minutes, she checked over her shoulder, gaze flickering towards the bar, where the bartender moved between patrons with effortless grace. Each time Sam caught a glimpse of her, her expression softened, though she tried to mask it. The way the bartender kept an eye on their table, checking in on Sam while pouring drinks, didn't go unnoticed. Grins exchanged between Daniel and Matt and they finally drained the last of their beer.
Reaching for his wallet, Matt raised an eyebrow at Daniel. A glance at his watch nearly prompted a curse—well past midnight, the bar had emptied considerably. Nodding to his old friend, he turned toward Sam, unsurprised to find her attention elsewhere.
With a grin, Daniel leaned over and nudged her elbow. "Earth to Sam?"
Blinking, she snapped out of whatever daydream had claimed her. "Huh? Oh, sorry." Fingers traced the rim of her glass, lost in thought.
"We're heading out. You coming with us, or sticking around?"
Hesitation flickered across her face for just a second before she glanced over her shoulder again. The bartender gave Sam a soft smile, not flirtatious this time, but warm, encouraging. And just like that, Daniel knew Sam had no intention of leaving.
"I think I'll stick around a bit longer," she said, her voice casual but her expression betraying something else—something hopeful.
Grinning, Daniel exchanged a knowing look with Matt before turning back to Sam. Leaning in closer, he lowered his voice, teasing but genuine. "Good luck," he whispered, his playful tone underscored by sincerity. "And I want to hear every detail tomorrow."
Another blush took over her cheeks, but she smiled back, mock-glare directed at him. "Don't count on it," she muttered, lighthearted, the tension around her having eased significantly.
As he stood, Daniel gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, his smile softening. "Seriously, Sam. Go enjoy yourself."
He and Matt headed toward the bar to settle their bill before stepping outside. A final glance back revealed the bartender had noticed Sam was staying. Her smile widened, eyes meeting Sam's in a way that told Daniel all he needed to know.
An unspoken connection lingered between them, something building that had been interrupted earlier but was now finding its way back.