The early morning air bit sharply, cold enough to burn with each breath. Mel welcomed the sting, letting the rhythm of her feet pounding against the dirt trail drown out the whirlwind in her head. The town's running paths were nearly empty, the quiet interrupted only by the occasional passing jogger. None of it really registered, her focus elsewhere.

A huff of breath broke through her thoughts. "Do you ever just, I don't know, jog at a normal human speed?" Amy's tone was strained, her steps lagging slightly behind.

"This is normal," came the reply, paired with a smirk.

"For you, maybe," Amy muttered. "I've got two kids who were up all night because one of them decided she's scared of her shadow. If I collapse, I'm blaming you."

Laughter bubbled up, lightening the moment. "Told you to let them stay up watching monster movies."

The glare Amy shot over lacked any real malice. "You are not babysitting anytime soon."

An easier rhythm settled between them for a while, the early morning quiet wrapping around them like a blanket. Amy, true to form, eventually broke the silence again.

"Alright," she panted, still jogging a step behind. "What's the deal? Did someone replace you with a pod person or something?"

A quick glance over the shoulder was all Mel offered before easing her pace. "What are you talking about?"

"You're in beast mode, and you didn't even check out blue leggings earlier. Totally your type. But nope. Nothing. What gives?" The words came with exaggerated incredulity. "Who are you, and what did you do with Melanie Banks?"

A faint smirk tugged at her lips, she didn't answer. Instead, the pace picked up again.

"Oh, come on!" Amy groaned, falling further behind. "Why are you running like the hounds of hell are after you? Slow down! Or is this punishment for all the years I made you watch rom-coms?"

"It's not a punishment," came the clipped response.

The sound of Amy's feet came to an abrupt stop behind her. "That's it. You're officially weirder than usual. What's going on?"

A few more steps carried Mel forward before realizing her companion had stopped. A sigh escaped as she slowed, turning back to meet Amy's questioning gaze. "Nothing."

The word hung there, unconvincing.

"Liar," Amy shot back. She straightened, hands folded on top of her head and her chest heaving for air while she stared Mel down. "You've been weird all morning. Spill."

A strand of hair had slipped free from her ponytail and Mel swiped it from her forehead. She bit her lip but she wanted to tell. "It's… this woman."

Amy's brows shot up. "A woman? That explains some things. Who is she?"

Exhaling sharply, Mel began pacing ahead, restless energy making it impossible to stand still. "Her name's Sam. She came into the bar two weeks ago—Thursday night. But… she's military. A captain."

"A Captain? Fancy," Amy teased, falling into step beside her as Mel began jogging again. "What happened?"

This time Mel kept her pace deliberatedly slow as she spoke, her voice softer now. Apparently this had turned from a run to a conversation real quick without her input. "We talked. All night. She was… amazing, Amy. Just this perfect mix of sharp and kind and—God, the way she listened to me. Like she actually cared. Like she wasn't just waiting for her turn to talk."

Amy's teasing smirk faded into something more thoughtful. "Huh. The way you talk about her sounds different."

"She was," Mel said, a wistful edge to her voice. "And she didn't freak out when I told her I don't do one-night stands. You know how that usually goes."

A knowing nod came from beside her. "Yeah. Most people bolt."

"Not Sam." Once more, just the thought of her had a small smile flicker over Mel's expression. "She just smiled, like it was a relief or something. We kept talking—about everything. Work, life, the stars. She's just… incredible. I kissed her goodnight, and she promised to call."

The silence that followed felt heavier. "But she didn't, did she?"

Clenching her jaw, Mel shook her head. "It's complicated."

"Complicated?" Amy sounded incredulous before her eyes widened. "Don't tell me she's in a relationship? Or married to a dude?"

"No," Mel laughed. She thought of how Sam felt in her arms, how perfect she fit there with Mel's hands against her waist, how good she'd tasted in their kiss. "She got hit by a car."

That seemed to short-circuit whatever Amy had been thinking. She blinked rapidly, sputtering. "What?!"

The bile rising in her throat had nothing to do with the jog. Mel slowed, Amy struggling beside her to keep up as the story spilled out. Sam's accident, the visits to the hospital, the way the transfer meant there'd be no more visits. A quick swipe at her eyes was passed off as something caused by the cold air, though Amy wasn't buying it.

"So yeah, complicated," she finished, voice strained. "Now that I've spilled my guts, can we talk about something else? I'm already overthinking it without dragging it all out again."

The trail stretched onward, quiet except for the crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the occasional chirp of birds overhead. Amy's presence beside her, steady and warm, offered a strange kind of comfort, even as they moved on to lighter topics.

"You know, I can't believe how bad traffic's been lately. They've been doing construction on Cascade Avenue for weeks, and it's like nobody knows how to merge anymore."

"Oh, I noticed," Mel said dryly. "Almost got sideswiped last night. Some guy in a minivan thought his lane was an optional suggestion."

"Sounds about right," Amy replied with a knowing nod. "I swear, half the drivers around here got their licenses out of a cereal box."

Mel chuckled, her mood lightening. "At this rate, they should just close the roads altogether and let us all walk."

"Not the worst idea," Amy said, glancing down at the trail beneath their feet. "Though it'd take me a month to haul groceries back on foot."

"Better start training," Mel teased. "Or just bring Luis along. He can carry the heavy stuff while you supervise."

"Speaking of Luis," Amy said, her tone brightening, "he's taking the kids to the science museum today. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without him. Between school, work, and those two little maniacs, life's been non-stop chaos."

"Luis deserves a medal," Mel replied, her voice warm with genuine admiration. "And the museum? That's a great call. They'll love it."

Amy huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, after they finish World War Three over who gets the window seat on the drive there. It's a new exhibit—dinosaurs, comets, all the fun ways the world could end. You know the drill. There's some planetarium thing, too. Honestly, I can't keep up with half of it, but they're obsessed."

"Did you know time actually passes differently near a black hole?" Mel said suddenly, her pace slowing slightly.

Amy glanced over, her curiosity piqued. "Wait, what? Like time travel or something?"

"Not exactly." Mel's expression softened, her voice growing more animated. "It's called gravitational time dilation. The stronger the gravity, the slower time moves. So, near a black hole, time for someone close to it would crawl compared to someone farther away. It's mind-bending if you think about it."

Amy's eyebrows shot up. "Hold on—this is real? Not just sci-fi nonsense?"

"It's real," Mel said, nodding. Her gaze drifted ahead, as though she could see the stars through the daylight. "And stars… they're incredible. Like neutron stars—those are what's left when massive stars explode. They're so dense, just a teaspoon of one would weigh billions of tons. Then there are red dwarfs, which burn fuel so slowly they can live trillions of years. That's way longer than our sun will last."

The words spilled out like a revelation, unfiltered and raw, until Amy finally stopped jogging and turned to face her. "Okay, where is this coming from?" A smirk tugged at her lips, but her tone softened. "You didn't just read this in National Geographic, did you? This is Captain Gorgeous knowledge, isn't it?"

Heat rose to Mel's cheeks as she groaned, already regretting the slip. "Maybe."

"Oh my God." Amy's grin widened, a burst of delight lighting up her features. "You've got it so bad, don't you? Look at you! Geeking out about black holes and red dwarfs like you're serenading her with science. It's adorable."

"I do not have it bad," Mel protested, though the blush creeping up her neck said otherwise.

"Oh, you absolutely do," Amy countered, laughing now. "Come on—gravitational time dilation? Stars living for trillions of years? That's basically the nerdiest love poetry I've ever heard."

A glare formed but quickly dissolved into a faint, reluctant smile. "Fine. Maybe I do. She's just…" The words hung in the air, as though searching for the courage to land.

"She's just what?" Amy prompted, her voice gentler this time.

"She's … amazing," Mel said, barely louder than a whisper. "She's a scientist. Astrophysics. Smart, kind, and funny in this dry, understated way. She made me feel like I mattered, you know? Not just some bartender trying to make a good tip. It was… different. She was different."

Amy's smirk returned, playful as ever. "So let me get this straight. You, of all people, managed to find yourself a scientist to swoon over? What's next, you're going to start hosting trivia nights about constellations?"

Mel groaned, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

"I'm serious!" Amy pressed, her grin widening. "Little Melanie Banks, who never paid attention in high school physics, now waxing poetic about neutron stars and black holes. You've got to admit, it's kind of hilarious."

"Okay, first of all," Mel began, trying to suppress her smile, "I did pay attention in physics. I just hated my teacher. And second, it's not like I picked her because she's a scientist."

"Oh, so you picked her for her looks?"

"Amy!"

Amy offered a warm, reassuring smile, brushing back a few loose strands of hair. "Alright, alright. I surrender. But I've got to get home and have dinner ready before Luis and the kids return. So can we please finish this run before I end getting dragged into the science museum by you instead of my kids so you can show off to your Captain by knowing space stuff?"

Laughter bubbled out of Mel, easing the tightness in her chest. "Deal. But if you pass out, you're on your own. I'm leaving you here."

"Typical," Amy replied with an exaggerated eye roll, her grin breaking through. With that, they fell back into an easy jog, their steady rhythm a contrast to the chaos both women kept at bay in their own lives.

The morning air felt a touch warmer now, the crispness softening as the sun climbed higher. For the first time in days, Mel's thoughts weren't a tangled mess of what-ifs and regrets. Sam would call. Mel chose to believe that.

By the time they reached the parking lot where they'd started, Amy slowed to a dramatic halt, bending over with her hands braced on her knees. Her breath came in short, uneven bursts.

"Five miles?" Amy wheezed, her face flushed as she glared up at Mel. "Are you trying to kill me? I'm a mother of two. I'm not made for this."

A grin stretched across Mel's face, her chest heaving steadily. "You did fine. Barely broke a sweat."

Amy shot her an exaggerated death glare, though the corners of her mouth twitched with amusement. Her face shone red and sweat matted her hair in wet strands "Fine? Fine? My legs are filing for a restraining order, and my lungs are drafting complaints. Tomorrow, I'm going to need crutches just to get out of bed."

"You'll thank me later," Mel teased, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. Despite the dull ache in her muscles, a rush of energy surged through her, leaving her feeling more alive than she had in weeks. "A little suffering is good for you. Builds character."

Groaning dramatically, Amy groaned as she straightened up, swiping at the sweat dripping down her temple. "Character? Melanie, I'm drowning in character. What I need is a nap and a gallon of water. Maybe a stretcher."

Mel laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained, as though shaking off the invisible weight that had been pressing on her shoulders. For once, the sticky heat of sweat and the burn in her legs felt like a badge of resilience rather than a burden.

Amy tilted her head, giving Mel a side-eye. "Why do you look like you just got off a spa day? I feel like I've barely survived an ultra marathon in the Sahara."

"Endorphins," Mel quipped with a shrug. "They're magical. I feel great." She bounced a little on her toes, testing her energy. "Might even do another mile."

"Says the former olympic hopeful," Amy sputtered. Mel almost regretted telling her of her teen obsession with biking that had very nearly become her adult job before she'd decided to quite professional racing. Since then, her friend seemed to take great pleasure on bringing it up every time they talked about physical activity. "Another mile? Go ahead, Wonder Woman, but I'm done. My lungs have already signed their resignation letter." She straightened up and started walking toward her car, muttering under her breath. "The kids are going to be bouncing off the walls with dinosaur facts and planetarium popcorn. I'll be lucky if I don't fall asleep in my mashed potatoes."

Mel chuckled, jogging a few steps in place before slowing to join her friend. "Fine, fine. I'll let you off the hook this time. But don't think I'm going to let you dodge our next run."

"Oh, don't you worry," Amy replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'll be here. Same time, same place, ready to suffer all over again. Because, you know, apparently I hate myself."

With a shared laugh and a knowing glance, the two women parted ways. Mel climbed into her car, her muscles still tingling with the satisfying burn of effort. Maybe once Sam's bones had healed, she'd join them on a run. Well, that thought had come out of nowhere, Mel thought and butterflies made a ruckus in her stomach. That was distant dreams but it told Mel she definitely had to get her head out of it. Picking up speed, Mel finally ran, leaving the car lot behind to go for another lap. Maybe she'd just do the whole five miles again. This time, pushing on the speed.

Balancing a precarious stack of books, Daniel navigated the winding halls of the SGC with a practiced ease. The weight of his thoughts, however, was harder to carry. Approaching Teal'c's quarters, he hesitated briefly before knocking—a soft, polite tap that didn't fully betray the swirl of uncertainty inside him.

It was late at night, the day long having since passed. Jack had gone home to catch some sleep and Sam would not be leaving the infirmary for weeks.

The door opened with its usual quiet efficiency, and Teal'c stood framed in the threshold, his expression calm but curious. His quarters were as neat and orderly as ever, the scent of a faintly burning candle adding a meditative quality to the space. When Teal'c inclined his head in greeting, there was no mistaking the mild surprise in his gaze.

"I was wondering if you had a few minutes," he began, juggling the books slightly for emphasis. "I need a bit of a distraction, and, well, you seemed like the right person to talk to."

Teal'c stepped aside, motioning for him to enter. "You are welcome here, Daniel Jackson," he said, though his tone carried a hint of confusion. "It is unusual for you to seek conversation in private. Such matters are often discussed in the meeting room."

A brief, self-conscious laugh escaped him as he set the books down on the nearest surface, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, I needed a change of scenery. And, honestly... I just needed something to get my mind off Sam's accident. If you don't mind?"

The faintest shadow of concern crossed Teal'c's face, but he merely nodded. "I do not mind."

Taking a seat, he felt the weight of the books lessen but not the weight of his thoughts. His gaze flickered briefly to Teal'c, who had resumed his usual poised stance. He knew why he'd really come, even if he wasn't ready to admit it aloud. The knowledge sat heavy in his chest, a truth he wished wasn't so complicated.

Sam's secret was one she could never voice, not in her position. The military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy loomed over her life like a shadow, and he couldn't ignore how unfair it was. She shouldn't have to hide who she was—not from her friends, not from her team, and certainly not from herself.

The problem was, even in their tight-knit group, he didn't know how everyone truly felt about relationships like hers. And if he wanted to help her—really help her—he needed to find out.

He just hoped Teal'c's answer would be one of support.

Shifting in his seat, Daniel licked his lips, pondering how to approach the subject. "Yeah, I was just... thinking," he started, hesitating before continuing. "You know, about how different cultures view relationships. It's something I've been studying for a long time." He paused, leaning forward slightly, choosing his words with care. "There's this story from ancient Greece. One of their gods, Zeus... he had a relationship with Ganymede, a young man. And, well, I was wondering—what do the Jaffa think of that? Same-sex relationships, I mean."

Teal'c's brow furrowed for a moment, and Daniel briefly wondered if he'd crossed a line. But then Teal'c nodded thoughtfully, his expression unchanging.

"I do not understand how we arrived at this topic, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c responded slowly, "but I will answer your question. Among the Jaffa, relationships between individuals of the same sex are not seen as unusual. In fact, such unions are often considered pure, as they are based solely on affection and love, rather than the need to reproduce. The bond between two people who share that connection is honored." He met Daniel's gaze directly, his voice steady and firm. "There is no dishonor in such relationships."

Surprised by the clarity of Teal'c's response, Daniel blinked, a mixture of relief and curiosity stirring within him. "So, you're saying same-sex relationships are... celebrated? Respected?"

"Indeed," Teal'c confirmed, his voice unwavering. "They are recognized for their strength, as they are formed without the expectation of children but instead because of deep mutual affection. It is a sacred connection."

A smile tugged at Daniel's lips at the simplicity of Teal'c's explanation. "That's... really great to hear, actually," he said, his fingers absently brushing the edge of Sam's blanket. "It's not quite the same on Earth, though. At least, not here in the United States."

Deepening seriousness marked Teal'c's expression, his gaze sharpening with intent. "Explain."

Sighing, Daniel leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "Well, for a long time, relationships between people of the same sex have been... discriminated against. Some parts of the world are making progress, but here in the U.S., especially in the military, people still face a lot of challenges. It's not really... accepted." Pausing, Daniel carefully gathered his thoughts before continuing. "There's this policy called 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell,' which was put in place a few years ago. Basically, it says people in the military aren't supposed to talk about their sexuality. They can't be openly gay, lesbian, or bisexual. If their superiors find out, they could be discharged. It's supposed to be a compromise, but it's really not. People are still terrified of being found out. It's a mess."

Teal'c's frown deepened, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. "The Tau'ri discriminate against those who form such bonds?"

The weight of the words settling heavy in the air and Daniel nodded gravely. "Yeah. It's been like that for a long time. People are afraid of losing their jobs, their homes, even their lives sometimes. It's getting better, but it's still not where it should be."

The jaw tightening was the only visible sign of Teal'c's rising frustration. A flicker of anger passed through his normally stoic expression. "That is most unfortunate," he said, voice low but controlled, though it held a sharp edge. "I had thought the Tau'ri wiser than this. I have seen their capacity for greatness, their understanding of honor and loyalty. This... discrimination you speak of is not befitting of a wise people."

Slowly, Daniel exhaled, nodding in agreement. "I know. It's frustrating, to say the least."

For a moment, Teal'c sat as still as a statue. Then, he rose in a fluid motion. "I will speak with General Hammond on this matter."

Surprise flickered across Daniel's face. "Teal'c, I don't think—"

A cocked head silenced him. "It is unjust," Teal'c said firmly. "Such a practice dishonors those who serve with loyalty and dedication. I will not stand by while those I care for are subjected to such treatment."

Swallowing, Daniel glanced at Sam's room, where his thoughts lingered. Teal'c's words rang true—what Sam faced, what she had to hide, was wrong. But this wasn't just one conversation with General Hammond. The battle was bigger than that.

Gratitude for Teal'c's unwavering support welled up in Daniel. If only the rest of the world saw things as clearly as his friend did.

Please review!

Merry Christmas :) It's more of a filler chapter here but some important things are happening nonetheless!