~20~

Sam leaned back, rubbing her weary eyes. She's been staring into a microscope for nearly twelve hours with practically no breaks. The last one had been four hours ago when she stopped long enough to refill a Thermos with more coffee. Thank God caffeine didn't seem to affect the virus one way or another.

She knew Janet and her teammates were conscious of the hours she'd spent sequestered in the medical lab, but for the first time since she'd known them, none of them badgered her about how long she worked. They were all more than aware that time was running out for her. However, she wasn't going to fall into the trap of self-pity she'd found herself in the night before. She'd had her burst of emotionalism. It was time to get down to business.

More determined than ever, Sam sat up straighter and looked into the microscope once more. Janet had given her a crash course on microbiology, pointing out elements she should be watching for. So far, nothing she'd tried seem to stop the spread of the virus. Each time she introduced an altered version of the toxin to her sample, the virus mutated just enough to render it ineffective. Janet had likened its response to a cold, transforming just enough to elude a cure. If that was the case, she was no doubt fighting a losing battle. How the hell was she supposed to fight something that could continue to change indefinitely?

Sam heard a knock at the door of the lab and looked up to see Janet giving her a tired smile.

"How's it going?" she asked, leaning into the doorframe.

Sitting back, Sam tossed a pen on her desk. "Not so hot. How about you?"

"I think we're tied for who's had the most frustrating day. I've tried everything I can think of, but every time I think I've come up with something, the virus changes just a little bit. I haven't even found anything to slow its growth. At least it hasn't accelerated it though." Janet said, moving into the room to take a seat next to her friend.

Running her hands through her hair, Sam turned to face her. "You're sure this is going to start blocking the neural pathways in my brain?" She knew she was grasping at straws about the final outcome, but it was just so hard to believe when she felt perfectly fine.

"No, I don't know for sure. I can't be sure about anything, especially when this virus is of an alien nature. But you can't pretend it's just going to go away," Janet gently reminded her. "I can't imagine how terrifying this must be for you, but you have to be prepared."

"I know," Sam said, gazing down at her hands nervously twisting in her lap. "I've been thinking. I should probably consider a Power of Attorney, you know, if any decisions have to be made and I can't make them."

Janet swallowed, blinking back moisture that was rapidly gathering in her eyes. "It would be a good idea. You know if there's anything I can do. . . ."

Reaching over, Sam squeezed Janet's hand. "I know. You've been a true friend, Janet. I just wanted to make sure you knew that before I lose the ability to tell you."

Sam's words broke Janet's resolve and she moved forward to embrace her in a fierce hug. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry! I wish there was something I could do. You have no idea how much this hurts that I keep coming up with dead ends! I'm not giving up, you know that, but I don't know what to do!"

Tightening her arms around Janet, Sam said, "Look, this thing killed the Goa'ulds in a matter minutes, right? And look how long it's been since I've been exposed. That had to be a good sign, doesn't it?"

Janet sat up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Your own immune system seems to be putting up a good fight," she agreed.

"What about the Tollan, or the Nox? Even the Asgard? Their medicine is far more advanced than ours."

"Sam, I didn't want to tell you in case you got your hopes up, but General Hammond has tried contacting our allies, and none of them can or are willing to help. Apparently the Tollan feel sharing medical knowledge falls into the same category as technology."

"I guess that's not a big surprise."

"Although, they did send they're best wishes for a 'timely recovery,'" Janet added bitterly. "The Nox claim they have no need for 'conventional' medicine because of their ability to channel energy to heal their sick."

"But they brought me back from the dead!" Sam protested. "Surely a virus would be easier to cure than bring people back to life!"

"From what I understand, they repaired the damage done to you from a staff weapon blast. It's not the same as curing a disease like this. At least it's what they claimed."

"The Asgard?" she asked hopefully.

"We haven't been able to contact them," Janet said, her gaze dropping to the floor. "From what we've been able to gather, they're having a tough time of it with the Replicators. It's doubtful even if they were able to help, they'd be able spare a ship." Janet looked up at her once more. "Colonel O'Neill in particular was holding out hope for them."

Sam nodded, trying to push her disappointment down. Jack had always seemed confident that whenever he snapped his fingers Thor would come running. However, regardless of the affection the alien had for him, there were some things beyond even Thor's control.

"So," she said. "We're back to square one and good old-fashioned Human ingenuity. We've pulled off the impossible before Janet, we'll do it again."

"Of course we will. But not tonight. You've been at this all day, Sam. It can't help matters if you exhaust yourself. You have to be especially aware of your health, now. That includes eating and getting plenty of rest."

Sam was about to protest, but Janet had a point. It was just so hard to go home and leave this problem in the lab as if it was an average experiment. Time was conspiring against her. How was she expected to go home, kick off her shoes and forget each minute was bringing her closer to losing her ability to reason?

"Cassandra and I were talking about taking in a movie, maybe getting a bite to eat. Why don't you join us?" Janet offered.

Sam smiled at the invitation, but she really didn't feel like being sociable. "Thanks, but I've got some stuff at home to take care of."

"Sam, I really don't feel comfortable with you away from the base on your own. We just don't know what this virus is capable of."

"Everything was fine last night. I don't need a baby-sitter. At least not yet." Sam was ashamed of how self-pitying the statement sounded, but she couldn't help it. She was feeling claustrophobic. Although her friends meant well, they were smothering her with their concern. They'd have plenty of time to take turns feeding her in the near future. Repressing a shudder, she turned to Janet,

"I'll take a pager, okay?"

Janet was uncertain, but seemed to understand Sam's need for independence. "Fine. But I'm going to call you later."

Past arguing with her, Sam conceded. Rubbing her hands over her face, she tried to hide an amused smile. "All right. Just don't make it too late. I have to get some sleep, you know."

~21~

General Hammond leaned back in his chair, trying to concentrate on Daniel's speech concerning P5F-883. According to the MALP transmissions, there was a recently thriving culture resembling that of the Incas and he was petitioning for the planet to be to SG-1's next mission.

He'd more or less decided to approve the request, but he was wondering if Major Carter should be included. Since her headache had dissipated, she seemed to be functioning normally, but Doctor Fraiser still appeared concerned. And rightfully so, he agreed. Whatever the alien virus was, it was still inside her, perhaps affecting her in ways they had yet to discover.

Glancing over at the major, he noticed her staring off into space. Not that he could blame her; he was having a difficult time concentrating on Jackson's impassioned plea as well. But it wasn't typical of her behavior. Whether or not it was out of courtesy or genuine interest, Sam Carter seldom spent a briefing day-dreaming.

"Thank you, Dr. Jackson," Hammond said, once Daniel had wrapped up his presentation. His words startled Sam out of her stupor, and he noticed her guilty expression and quick glance around the room. Either she was checking to see if anyone had observed her lack of attention, or was trying to catch up on what she'd missed. All four members of SG-1 turned to him for his decision.

"Well, General?" Jack prompted.

"I agree it's a planet worth looking into," Hammond began, noting the excited look on Daniel's face. "However, I can't in good conscience send Major Carter. If I authorize this mission, you'll have a *temporary* replacement." The general looked at Sam, making sure she understood the meaning of his words--she wasn't being cut from the team.

"General, I understand your concern, but I assure you. . ."

"Hammond's right. Maybe you should sit this one out, Carter," Jack said, his face revealing his worry. "Besides, you really want to go crawling around a bunch of ruins on some mountain top?"

"Actually, sir, I do," she stated, staring back at him.

Hammond decided to end the matter before things got out of hand. "Major, I understand your wish to accompany your team. If Dr. Fraiser clears you, I won't remove you from this mission."

Sam was slumped in her chair, a posture he'd seldom witnessed. She was radiating her anger, but to her credit, didn't pursue the matter any further.

Pushing himself back from the table and standing, the general announced, "I'll speak with Dr. Fraiser and give you my decision concerning Major Carter within the hour. In the mean time, Colonel, start preparing your team."

"Thank you, sir," Jack said glancing at a jubilant Daniel. Hammond didn't miss the look he cast in Carter's direction, sympathy was practically radiating from him.

"I'll be in my lab, sir. If you change your mind," she said softly. Looking up, she managed a smile for the rest of her team. "Good luck, guys."

***

Hammond looked up at the knock on his door. "Come."

Peeking around the door, Janet asked, "You asked to see me, sir?"

Motioning her inside, he indicated she should sit in the chair in front of his desk. "Thank you for being so prompt, Doctor."

"Am I to assume this has something to do with Major Carter, sir?"

Hammond smiled. "How did you know?"

Returning the general's smile, Janet said, "she stopped by my office on the way to her lab. She wasn't too happy, sir. She said I should be expecting a call."

"So, then you're aware of what this is about."

"If you mean Sa--Major Carter's inclusion on the mission, then yes, I do. She tried to convince me to clear her for the assignment."

"I'm not surprised," Hammond said, arranging papers on his desk. "Over all, how's she handling things, Doctor?"

"I'd say as well as could be expected, sir, considering she's got an alien virus no one else seems susceptible to, and we can't seem to find a cure."

"Are you any closer to a antidote?"

"No, sir. The virus just continues to mutate with each antitoxin we come up with. I have to admit, I wouldn't be as far along as I am without the major's help."

The general nodded. Between the two of them, if there was an answer to be found, they'd be the ones to do it. "So, is Major Carter up to this mission?"

Janet took in a lungfull of air. "Physically, she's certainly up to it. Emotionally, I'd say she could use something else to think about."

"I sense a 'but' is coming."

"Sir, I just don't know what's going to happen next with this virus, and I don't want Major Carter to be off-world, if and *when* it does."

"You're convinced there'll be further complications?"

"Her headache might be gone now, but I think that was just a precursor. Her body has been fighting the virus. I think the real damage is taking place now."

"You mean the loss of certain mental functions you mentioned earlier."

Janet swallowed. "Yes, sir. She's already starting to show some signs of forgetfulness and inattentiveness that frankly just aren't normal behavior for her."

"I noticed that myself today. She seemed quite distracted during Dr. Jackson's presentation."

Trying to hide her grin, Janet said, "From what I understand it's a rather common problem."

Hammond, too, found his lips twitching into a smile. "Usually not to this degree."

"In that case, sir, I really can't recommend Major Carter for this mission. I have no idea how fast this is going to progress. As I've mentioned to the major, it's remarkable it's taken as long as it has. From what we've been able to tell, death was almost instantaneous for the Goa'uld. I would have though this disease would have progressed beyond this point by now."

"I take it you see this as a positive sign?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, sir, the longer it takes her to develop more symptoms, of course the better. It also gives us more time to find a cure. I'm not stopping until I find something. Even if it merely treats the symptoms, it's going to be a step in the right direction."

Running a hand over his broad face, Hammond nodded in agreement. "I'm going to assign Captain Robelek to SG-1 for this mission. I'm counting on this being only a temporary assignment, Doctor."

"I hope so, too, sir."

Hammond dismissed her with a relaxed salute, but before she left his office, she turned back to him. "One more thing, sir. If this does go to a worst case scenario, Major Carter is going to need someone to look after her." Clearing her throat, she continued. "I'm volunteering my services, and I'm sure SG-1 would be willing to help as well."

"There's no doubt in my mind, Doctor. In fact, I'd like to see you *try* to keep them away."

Janet managed a small smile. "It's inconceivable, sir."

~22~

Sam was back in her own lab, taking a breather from working on the virus. Lately, the more she stared at it, the less she seemed to see. A break in her routine was certainly what she needed. But sitting at her desk, she couldn't for the life of her figure out what she was going to work on. Looking around the table were several items SG-1 had brought back from P5F-883.

"Right," she said aloud. "I was going to test the artifacts for naquada." Shaking her head to clear it, she found herself drifting off again as she absentmindedly fiddled with a statue. Why was it she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything lately? It was as if her attention span had gone to that of a two year-old. "Or Colonel O'Neill," she said with a smile.

She knew what it was. But she didn't want to face it. How long had Janet been warning her this was going to happen? But it seemed as if it had gotten worse in the last few days. It started two days ago when she couldn't find her car keys. Being a creature of habit, she always placed her keys on the table in the foyer. But that morning, she found them on her bedroom dresser, after searching every logical place she could think of. Why she'd placed them there, she had no clue. Apparently she'd forgotten to leave them in their usual spot, and just dropped them when she'd gotten to her room. It was odd she'd head there in the first place. Normally she'd remove her jacket and check her messages.

Everything she'd done that night had been out of sequence. At the time, she'd put it down to being preoccupied, but she couldn't use that excuse any longer. The lapses were becoming more frequent. It was as if there was a wall between her and what she knew. The information she needed was all there, she just couldn't access it. Like a computer with a corrupted file.

Running her hands through her hair, Sam realized she'd drifted off again. It was a disconcerting feeling to be so unfocussed. Still, ignoring the signs wasn't doing her any good. There were decisions to be made, and she had to make them before she couldn't.

Logically, she knew she had to inform Janet of the changes, but she hesitated. A part of her didn't want the actual confirmation, and yet there was a part of her that needed facts. She needed a time frame to prepare herself.

"Just go, Carter!" she admonished herself. "Ignoring the problem isn't going to make it go away." Sucking in a deep breath, she stood, determined to face this latest revelation head-on.

***

Sam knocked on Janet's door, causing her to jump at the sound. "Sorry," she apologized as she entered the cramped office. Leaning against the doctor's desk, she met her friend's questioning gaze. "I think I need you to do another CT scan."

"Something else happen?" Janet asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Nothing Earth shattering," she said with an embarrassed smile. "It's just that my concentration seems really off the last couple of days, and I'm getting kind of absent-minded." She went on to tell her the story of her car keys as well as the other instances she'd noticed.

"I'm scared, Janet," Sam confessed. "You have no idea how frightening this is, wondering if today is going to be the last day I remember people, or places. Or if this will be the last day I'll be able to communicate intelligently." Sam looked down at her fingers, flexing them as if she was checking to see if she still had motor control. "I was in the grocery store the other day. There was a mother and her son. He was about twelve, I guess. Anyway, it was obvious he had some kind of learning disability. This mother had all the patience in the world with him, pulling down boxes of cereal, asking him if that was the kind he wanted. She'd make him try to read the name, and most of the time he got them right. She was grinning from ear to ear, telling him how pleased she was he'd been making progress at school and how he could read so much better, et cetera. All I could think of was that was going to be me. In a short time, I'd be that kid, struggling to read "Froot Loops."

Janet enveloped her in a hug, fighting back tears. "I wish I knew what to say, Sam. I can't promise you that won't happen."

Swallowing back her own emotion, Sam said, "I know. It's just that everything I am has been associated with my intelligence. I was doing math before I was in kindergarten. It made me special. I *liked* that it made me special. It made me try all the harder to learn everything I could." The look on her face turned wistful. "You should have seen my Dad when I won my first science competition. He was so proud of me. I think it was one of the few times he'd ever said the words. Mom had recently died and he'd shut himself off from Mark and me. I tried so hard to impress him, to get any reaction out of him. I needed his approval so much. I'll never forget that smile he gave me. It was the first I'd seen in months. From that moment on, I knew I had to be the best. There was no way I was going to let him down."

"Sam, you've contracted a *virus* you didn't have any control over catching it. Surely you don't think this is going to change how your father feels about you?"

Sam looked up, the tears she'd been struggling with making her eyes luminous. "Logically, no. I mean I *know* he loves me, but that scared little girl is still in here too, terrified the only reason he cares is because I'm smart. And soon, I won't even have that."

"Have you talked to your Dad? I mean I know you can't see him, but maybe you should try the long-range communication device. I'm sure he'll tell you your fears are groundless."

"I've been kind of scared to try. What if he *is* disappointed in me?"

"Sam! You can't honestly believe he would feel that way! He's your father! And you've said yourself you've mended a lot of fences since he's become joined with Selmak. I think you have to talk to him, Sam. It's not going to change what's happening to you, but maybe he can help ease some of your worry."

Janet was right. Sam knew she was right, but it still didn't make it any easier to take that first step to try to contact him. She would do it though, if for no other reason than to say farewell. She wouldn't say good-bye. She wasn't to that point yet.

~23~

Paperwork. God he hated it. What he wouldn't give for a distraction right about--a knock sounded on his office door--now. Jack looked towards the ceiling, mouthing a silent "thank you."

"Come."

Sam stuck her head into his office. "Are you busy, sir?"

Pushing the reports to the side of his desk, he gave her an inviting smile. "Not at all, Carter. What can I do for you?" He saw her eyes flick to the stack of papers and knew he hadn't fooled her for a moment.

"It's kind of a personal matter, sir."

"Oh," he said, starting to feel decidedly uncomfortable. Carter never talked personal stuff with him. He knew about certain aspects of her life outside the SGC, but they'd never really talked about it. "Ya know, maybe this is something Fraiser or Daniel is better equipped to handle. I mean they. . . "

"Janet's the one who suggested I talk to you," she interrupted. "Well, not you *specifically.* That was my choice."

"Oh," he said again, unsure what to add. "I guess I'm flattered?" The fact he'd winced and made the statement a question probably tipped her off he wasn't comfortable with the direction their conversation was taking.

"Sir, I know this is probably making you uneasy, but I have to make some arrangements."

*Bingo!* he thought. "Arrangements?"

"Legalities, actually."

"Legalities. As in. . . .?"

Sam took a deep breath. "As in Power of Attorney. I'm going to need someone legally able to make decisions on my behalf in the future."

Jack stood, pacing behind his desk. "Look, Carter aren't you jumping the gun a bit? I mean you and Fraiser could find a cure to this tomorrow or. . ."

"That's not likely, sir. Truth is, the symptoms Janet warned me about have started to set in. And the CT scan I had this morning confirmed it. I'm still 'all here' at the moment, but I've already had some lapses in concentration, periods of absent-mindedness. It's only going to get worse."

He'd been trying to ignore his own observations of her uncharacteristic behavior, but it was little hard to look her in the face and deny it was happening. Daniel had told him he'd caught Sam sitting in her lab, staring off into space with a vacant look on her face. He'd tried to joke it away, but in his heart Jack knew Sam's worst nightmare was coming true.

"Shouldn't this be something your Dad or Mark should do?" he asked. Not that he wasn't willing to help her out, but it seemed as though he didn't have the right to be the one to make important decisions for her.

"Well, Dad can't come to Earth for obvious reasons, and Mark? He could deal with my finances, I suppose, but anything having to do with the SGC, he wouldn't have clearance for. Sir, I know this is a lot to ask of you, but you're the one I trust to carry out my wishes."

Jack swallowed, ending his pacing to look her in the eyes. She trusted him that much? "Carter, I'm honored you think so highly of me, but are you sure you've got the right guy?"

"Sir, every time I step through that 'gate I put my life into your hands. All I'm asking you to do is extend that trust into a little responsibility as well."

When she put it that way, did he really have a choice? "Of course I'll do it, Carter, it's just that I think it's unnecessary. You're going to be *fine.*"

Sam smiled at him, touching his sleeve. "I thought I had a corner on the denial market. This is happening, Jack. No amount of wishful thinking or rationalization is going to make it go away. Within the week I'll probably have lost the ability to make this choice."

Jack didn't know what shocked him more, her sudden familiarity or that she was going to be incapacitated in such a short time. "God, Sam," he choked out. Not even thinking he pulled her into a fierce hug, holding her so close he was probably hurting her. But she clung to him just as tightly. Time seemed to stall as they embraced, neither wanting to break the spell holding them together.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered.

"I don't want to be lost," she replied, pulling out of his arms at last. He continued to hold her hands, unwilling to let her go just yet.

"Carter," he said, slipping back into his usual role, "This is probably premature, but I wanted to make sure you knew what it's meant to me to have you as my second-in-command."

Sam tried to disengage her hands, but Jack held firm. "Sir, you don't have to say. . ."

"I know, but I want to. I should tell you this more often. It shouldn't take something like. . .this to force my hand." He blew out a breath, then looked up to meet her gaze. "You're the best, Carter. I don't just mean at the science stuff. That goes without saying. We work so well together. You've always been a mind reader," he said with a smile. Sam looked away in embarrassment, and he disengaged a hand long enough to turn her face back towards him. "I've never had to explain what I meant when I gave an order. You always just knew. That first mission, when we went back to Abydos to find Daniel? Even when I was giving you six kinds of shit you were professional. Sliding into the role of 2IC like you'd always been there. It impressed the hell out of me."

Sam's eyes grew wide. "Really? I thought after that mission you'd gone straight to Hammond and demanded a replacement! I thought perhaps I'd gained your respect over time, I mean I *hoped* I had. . ."

"You've always had my respect, Carter. And you always will. No matter what happens."

Sam swallowed, blinking rapidly. "Thank you, sir. You don't know how much that means to me."

There was an awkward silence, and Jack dropped her other hand, realizing for the first time he'd still held it. Clearing his throat he motioned back towards his desk. "I suppose I really should get some work done on those."

"Of course, sir," Sam said, straightening her posture and taking a step back. "I'll get the papers drawn up and bring them by tomorrow if that's okay?"

"Sure."

They continued to stare at each other, both clearly unsure what else to say. Sam spoke first, saving him from saying something lame.

"Thanks again, sir." With that, she exited his office, leaving him feeling completely overwhelmed.

*What the hell did you get yourself into this time, Jack?* he asked himself as he took his seat behind the desk. Well, he could hardly refuse her. But, God, he didn't want to think about having to make decisions for her! What if this virus *did* start affecting her autonomic functions and she was being kept alive on machines? He knew her wishes when it came to that. Hadn't he already "pulled the plug" on her once already? Could he do it again?

Burying his face in his hands he felt the weight of this responsibility settle squarely on his shoulders. He didn't want it, but at the same time he couldn't have stood idly by if she'd chosen someone else to carry out her wishes. It would have hurt more than the obligation she'd saddled him with.

"There has to be a way to stop this," he mumbled to himself. He couldn't believe he was going to have watch her slip away a little more each day. Again he was impressed with her bravery. He wouldn't be handling this as well as she was. He'd always assumed he'd go out in a blaze of glory, hopefully saving his team in the process. No doubt she had similar notions. To be condemned to a walking void had to be worse than dying.

*Why did it have to be Sam?* he raged inwardly for the millionth time. Why not him, whose brains weren't worth as much as hers? He would gladly sacrifice himself for her as he'd once tried when Freya was going to try to "cure" him. But this time, he hadn't been given the choice.

~24~

Janet walked into the commissary, getting herself a mug of coffee before she joined SG-1. SG-1 minus Sam. She'd asked them to join her, but felt since her office was close to Sam's lab, she might have seen her team mates gathered and wonder why she hadn't been included.

"Thank you for coming," she said, joining the men at a table in the corner.

"So, Doc, what's this all about?" Jack asked, already fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers.

Janet looked at each of them. "As you might have guessed, it has to do with Sam."

"Got that when she wasn't here," Jack said, leaning back in his chair.

"Did something else happen?" Daniel asked, concern evident on his face.

Rubbing a hand across her eyebrows, Janet gave an exasperated sigh. "Nothing more than has been happening." Taking a seat she took a sip of coffee before she continued. "As I'm sure you've noticed, Sam has been starting to show signs that the virus is blocking her neural pathways. She's become less attentive, sometimes searching for a word she wants, even if that word is a relatively simple one."

"Spacey," Jack said.

"What?" Daniel asked, his attention pulled away from the doctor.

"Spacey. Carter's spacey. You know, zoned out."

"I got that," Daniel replied, sounding irritated. "Go on, Janet."

Casting a glance at O'Neill she added, "From the scans I took earlier, it's progressing at a fairly rapid rate. By the end of the week, I think she's going to have real problems communicating, as well as not remembering a good portion of her life." The three men sat in shocked silence.

"That is most unfortunate," Teal'c said, genuine sympathy in his voice.

"What about us? Will she know us?" Daniel asked.

"I can't say for sure. I'm hoping she'll have that at least. In a way, this is like Alzheimer's Disease. She'll probably have access to random memories, but in no specific order. Sometimes she may know you, others, she might not."

"God," Daniel sighed.

"Ya. Tell me about it," Jack said. "You know she asked about giving me Power of Attorney?"

"I thought you'd be the one," Janet said. "When she brought it up, I thought it was probably a good idea. Are you okay with that, sir?"

"No!" Jack almost yelled. Then quieter, he added, "It's not that she asked me. It's knowing *why* she asked me."

Janet simply nodded. "I know none of us want to face the fact we're losing the person Sam is by the hour, but sticking our heads in the sand isn't helping anyone. Within the week she's going to need assistance."

"What kind of assistance?" Daniel asked, his gaze flicking to each of his friends.

"Well, to be blunt, baby-sitting. She won't be capable of working at the SGC, and she's going to need someone watching over her. If she cooks, making sure the stove gets turned off; if she goes outside, that she's dressed properly. You get the idea. She won't be able to drive, so if she needs to go to the store, someone will have to take her."

"So what are we talking here? Twenty-four/seven?" Jack asked.

"Not at first, but it may come to that. I'm open to suggestions."

"I believe we should take turns guarding SamanthaCarter," Teal'c stated.

"Well, I don't know that she has to be guarded, but I was thinking of something along the lines of setting up a schedule. At first someone checking on her once or twice a day should be enough. If she continues to deteriorate, it may end up being around the clock. In that case, I think we'll have to think about the possibility of permanent placement in a facility designed to care for people with these types of problems." Janet closed her eyes against the pain. She didn't want to think of that eventuality, but if she expected her friends to accept the bitter truth, she couldn't ask less of herself.

"No." Jack stated resolutely.

"No, what?" Daniel wondered.

"No, I won't put Carter in a home. I'll retire myself first."

Janet gaped at him along with his teammates. "Sir, I admire your loyalty to Major Carter but I don't think you're aware of what you'd be taking on."

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Tomorrow she's giving me the right to make decisions for her, and the first one I'm going to make is not letting her be put away in some box with nothing but white walls to stare at all day."

"Jack it's not like you couldn't visit her," Daniel tried to reason.

"Are you telling me you think some sterile home would be what's best for her?" Jack accused.

"No, of course not. It's just that maybe Janet has a point and you'd be taking on more than you could handle. I'm sure Sam wouldn't want you giving up your life for her."

"Gentlemen, It's really neither her nor there at this point. This may not become as bad as it could. Maybe the virus will mutate again and she won't lose her cognitive abilities. I just want you to be prepared for what *might* happen."

"So, she could still kick this thing?" Jack asked hopefully.

Not wanting to raise false hopes, Janet tried to decide how to word her reply. "She's already hung on longer than I expected. We're seeing a totally new strain of the virus in her. It was designed to seek out a Goa'uld and kill it. But Sam doesn't have a Goa'uld, so the virus has had to get creative. It's attacking her brain in a similar fashion, but lacks whatever is necessary for it to carry out its function to completion."

"Are you inclined to believe you could still cure MajorCarter if you were able to make a vaccine?" Teal'c asked.

"Yes, I think I could. *If* and it's a big 'if' I could find a way to make a broad-based vaccine it before it has a chance to mutate. The only trouble is, I don't have a pure sample. Even the first blood I took from Sam it had already changed. I need a specimen of the virus in its natural state. Preferably dormant."

"I believe this might be possible."

"What are you saying, Teal'c? Daniel and I have been back to that planet and we didn't find any sign of the virus."

"Well, maybe we did and we just didn't know it," Daniel said. "After all, we're immune. We could have touched it, inhaled it, took a bath in the stuff and it wouldn't have made any difference."

"I believe I may be of assistance in this matter."

"How?" Jack and Daniel asked at the same time.

"If I were to accompany you, my symbiote would react to the presence of the virus. Perhaps you could use its reaction to locate the sample you seek."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Teal'c," Janet said. "After all, your symbiote is just as susceptible as any Goa'uld."

"Besides, we don't know how this is transmitted," Daniel spoke up. "If it's airborne you might pick it up before you know it."

"I do not believe that is the case, DanielJackson. The only time my symbiote was agitated was while I was in the temple. I was there long enough to have breathed in a virus had there been one present."

"So, what other ways are there to get a virus?" Daniel asked.

"Touch, ingestion. But I doubt any of you--including Sam--ate anything you found in the temple."

"Touch," Jack said. "You mean touching something that might have been infected. Like the bones or something?"

"Well, that could be one way," Janet agreed, but the first Goa'uld wouldn't have had any infected bones to touch. Now if this *is* the delivery system it could be absorbed into the skin or if there was a break in the skin--like a cut--that could be how the virus enters the host's body.

"It is highly unlikely the Goa'uld would have any lesions," Teal'c added. "The host's body would have been healed of such imperfections."

"Well, it could be similar to how a cold is transmitted. Touch something with the active virus on it, then touch your eyes, nose, mouth anything that's an opening, and you've picked up the cold."

"I did not touch anything the last time I entered the temple. If I do not this time, I believe my symbiote would not become infected."

"That's a pretty big risk, Teal'c. It's not like we can just stop in at Chulak and get you a new primate. . ."

"Prim'ta."

"Whatever."

"Have you not risked your life for SamanthaCarter on many occasions, O'Neill?"

"Well, yeah, but it kind of goes with the territory of being a CO and all."

"On several occasions she has taken risks with her life for mine. I could do no less for her now."

Jack didn't have a counter argument for Teal'c and Janet knew it would be futile to try to convince the Jaffa not to go. Providing Hammond authorized the mission.

"Okay," she conceded. "But this time I'm going with you. It's not that I don't trust you guys, but I might find something you might miss. And Teal'c, you're wearing a hazmat suit. No arguments or I won't allow you on the planet."

"Agreed."

Janet looked at the men who seemed a bit more hopeful than a few minutes ago. "Now all we have to do is convince the general to send us back."

~25~

Sam stood at the doorway of her house, having the nagging feeling she was forgetting something. Not that she didn't always feel that way lately. It was like everything she was trying to think of was just beyond her reach. Okay. Retrace her steps. Janet said seeing something where she'd just been might spark a memory. So. Where had she come from? Kitchen! She'd been picking her jacket up off the dining room chair.

Walking back to the table, she noticed papers on the countertop of the island. Papers! That's what she was missing! She was supposed to give them to. . . to. . .Jack! Colonel O'Neill! God she hated this feeling. It was if she was seeing everything through a haze. Like being continually drunk or stoned. She couldn't believe people actually *tried* to achieve this state! Well, she'd been there herself more times than she wanted to admit, but if she ever got over this, her future limit was going to be two beers!

Sam stared at the papers in her hand. Why was she supposed to give them to Jack? Power of Attorney? Right. Because she couldn't seem to keep a thought in her head for more than a minute. Okay. Driving to work. She needed keys. Looking down at her right hand, she noticed she was clutching her keys as if she was determined not to lose them. Well, she probably was. Take the papers; go to the car.

Stepping out into the early morning sun, Sam was dazed by the sight. It was beautiful, she decided, the first orange rays were touching the tops of the trees. But she was supposed to be going to work, not admiring the sun. She had work to do. She couldn't remember quite what it was, but it was important. Something to do with Janet and why her memory was crap lately. The virus. Right. The one that was making everything she did twice as hard as it should be.

Sam unlocked the door, sliding into the driver's seat, placing the papers on the other seat. *Don't forget to take them,* she mentally reminded herself as she stuck the key in the ignition. But she sat there, just looking at the steering wheel, thinking of nothing, just staring. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there, or how long she would have continued to stare off into space if her neighbor hadn't called a greeting to her as he jogged by. The sun was much higher now, so she must have been sitting there for some time.

Shaking her head, trying to clear the cobwebs, Sam turned the key, starting the engine. She had to work on keeping her mind on what she was doing. Driving to work. First step, check to see if there were cars coming before she pulled out away from the curb. She took a deep breath. So far, so good. *I can do this,* she told herself as she accelerated to the stop at the end of her block. Sitting there for a moment she couldn't remember if it was right or left. Left. It was left. Put on the turn signal. Check for cars.

The rest of Sam's journey to Cheyenne Mountain was just as methodical. If she broke everything down into small steps, it seemed her mind didn't have so far to wander. Although, she had run a red light and it was only by the grace of God she hadn't been side-swiped by an on-coming car. Pulling into the lot at NORAD, she wondered if she'd be capable of a return journey.

She remembered to grab the papers off the passenger seat--they were important for some reason. Stepping up to the check-point, she blinked at the clip board the airman was holding out to her.

"I need your signature, ma'am," he said when she didn't take the sign-in sheet. The pen felt awkward in her hand, and her writing wasn't as fluid as it had been yesterday. God this was frustrating! She tried to make her hand obey her, but it seemed to have a will of its own. The airman frowned at the scribble on the sheet, looking up to make sure it was indeed Major Carter who was attempting to enter the facility.

"I hurt my hand," Sam said, knowing it was a flimsy excuse, but she didn't want to explain to a check-point guard what had happened to her in the past week. He simply nodded and sent her through.

She continued to talk herself through each step of her journey, garnering strange looks from the other occupant in the elevator as she muttered her plan to get to her lab.

"Major Carter, are you feeling all right?" the female lieutenant asked when she began repeating her steps aloud. Sam stared, then blinked. It seemed like ages passed before she found herself answering she was fine. Just a little tired.

*No,* she thought to herself. *I just can't think!*

"Maybe you should see Dr. Fraiser?" the woman suggested, moving closer.

*Janet! Yes! I should talk to Janet. She'll help me,* Sam thought. "I'll stop and see her," she told the lieutenant, giving her a crooked smile.

"Ma'am? Would you like some assistance?" The concerned airman asked.

"No! I'm fine! No one believes me that I'm fine!" Sam shouted, stepping away and turning her back on the woman. "I just need to think!" she slapped her forehead as if it was going to help clear the haze, but it didn't help. At this rate she'd be incapacitated before the week was out.

The elevator stopped on level 21, but Sam stood before the open doors, unmoving.

"Ma'am, this is your floor," the woman said.

"Yes, yes it is," Sam said, taking a step forward, wondering if the woman was going to follow her. Fortunately the doors slid shut once more, leaving her alone in the hallway. For a moment she stood there, trying to remember if she wanted to see Jack--Colonel O'Neill!--or if she should try to find Janet. Level 21. Her lab was here as well as the infirmary. Janet would be the closest.

Still clutching the papers in her hand, she walked towards the medical facility. Sam entered the infirmary, but had forgotten exactly why she was there. She wasn't hurt, but she knew she was supposed to come here. Dazed, Sam stood in the doorway, until a nurse approached her.

"Major Carter? Is there something I can help you with?"

"Um. Yeah, I think so. Janet. Is Janet here?"

"No, ma'am. Dr. Fraiser and the rest of SG-1 have gone back to the planet. The one where you. . . .contracted the virus?" The nurse seemed to hesitate, as if she didn't want to remind her of why her team would be off-world without her. "I thought she called you."

Sam gave the nurse an embarrassed smile. "You're right, she did. I guess it slipped my mind." *Understatement of the year!* she thought to herself.

The nurse's face screwed up in an expression of sympathy. "Is there something I could help you with?" she asked, starting to reach for the papers in her hand.

Quickly moving them out of her reach, Sam clasped the sheets to her chest. "No! They're for Jack!" she cried, then calmer, "I mean Colonel O'Neill. They're for him."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize. . . ."

"I'm sorry too, Captain. It's been a rough morning."

The nurse patted her arm. "Let me know if I can help you with anything."

"Yeah, help me remember where I left my mind," Sam muttered to herself as she left.

With everyone gone, she felt even more lost. Janet would have given her something to work on; Daniel would have stopped by her lab and talked to her about the latest translation he'd made. And Jack? He might have come by as well, berating her for working too hard or not eating.

Had she eaten that morning? She couldn't remember what she'd had, but then again she couldn't remember *not* eating. She didn't feel hungry, so she must have had something, right? It didn't matter. When she got hungry, she'd go to the. . .the. . . comm. . .commissary to eat. That's where people who worked here ate. Now she had to go to work. She worked on this floor. Down this hallway to the left. She would work in her lab, and when her friends came back from the planet, maybe they'd have something to help her.

~26~

Janet stepped through the event horizon on R4X-642 trying to quell her nausea. Looking over at the guys, they seemed to be taking the sensation in stride, but then again, she supposed if you did this enough you'd eventually get used to it. If you weren't susceptible to motion sickness that is. Unfortunately, she was. She'd taken something for it, but apparently wormhole travel was a bit more than it could handle.

"You okay, Doc? Ya look a little green," Jack said, trying to hide a smirk.

"Great," she said. "Just trying to blend in with the scenery."

Daniel stepped closer, taking her arm to steady her. Quietly, so the others wouldn't hear, he whispered, "I still feel that way every time I go through. Don't let Jack give you any crap."

Janet smiled at his words and assistance, standing up straighter. Daniel's hand fell away as she gazed in wonder at the scenery. It was so rare that she traveled off-world, she knew she looked like a kid at Christmas, gaping at the sight before her. Glancing over at O'Neill, she saw him smothering a grin and knew he'd caught her staring in open-mouthed amazement.

"Sorry, Doc but we really should get to that temple if we want to have a look around," he gently reminded her.

"Of course," she said, shaking off her stupor. Although she knew the teams she took care of went to other worlds, she still found it astonishing after all these years. But to actually go herself seemed almost beyond her comprehension. There were times she envied Sam her position on this team, but when she thought of what being part of SG-1 had meant for her recently, Janet wasn't so sure she wanted to trade places with her.

Looking back at Teal'c, she asked, "How're you doing with the suit?"

"I find it somewhat restrictive, but I shall persevere."

Janet smiled at Teal'c's comment. It was the closest he'd come to complaining.

"Okay, kids. Time's a-wasting," Jack said, heading off into the tropical foliage.

Janet knew she should be looking for possible clues to Sam's illness, but she couldn't help admiring the planet. It was so much like Earth. If it wasn't for the absence of high-rise hotels and tacky souvenir vendors, she would have sworn she was in Hawaii.

"Almost there," Daniel announced.

"Ya know, this place is starting to give me the creeps," Jack said, holding a branch aside for Janet.

"I too have had my reservations about returning to this planet," Teal'c said, his voice oddly hollow in the hazmat suit.

"I think it's the lack of people that gets me," Daniel said. "It's just so eerie that they vanished without a trace."

As O'Neill pushed his way through the last of the foliage, Janet saw what Daniel had been talking about. The village was deserted. It looked abandoned rather than destroyed.

"This does seem odd," Janet said, moving forward to inspect one of the cooking pits. "Their utensils are just left here like they were going to return to their tasks, but they never came back."

Daniel crouched down beside her. "And nothing is disturbed. The fires just eventually burned themselves out."

"Guys, I know you find this little mystery fascinating, but we have another that's a bit more pressing, don't ya think? Carter's losing it by the hour. Right now I don't care what happened to these people unless one steps from the jungle and tells us how to cure her."

Jack's tone was harsh, but Janet couldn't blame him. He'd tried to be professional throughout this whole ordeal, but it was wearing on him. They were all concerned about Sam, but none more than O'Neill. She understood his frustration. Without a scientific background, he wasn't any help in the labs. *This* was what he could do. He could come to this planet and look for answers. At least this way he was doing something to help her. She'd watched him growing more and more restless as the days went by without a solution. He needed this trip to the planet almost as much as Sam did.

"Is that the temple?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jack acknowledged. "You need any help with your gear?"

"I've got it. Thanks." Janet followed O'Neill into the temple, lugging her sample case. Daniel and Teal'c brought up the rear. "This is amazing!" Janet breathed, looking around at the carved stones. "I'm no archeologist, but isn't this a little advanced for a Polynesian culture? It almost seems Mayan."

Daniel's face glowed with pride. "Yes! That's what I thought! It could be that the culture here moved beyond that of Earth's or maybe there *was* some type of Mayan or Mayan-like influence because if you look at this inscription over here. . . "

"Daniel! Can we skip the history lesson?"

Daniel's face fell, and Janet immediately felt sorry for him. Sometimes in his bid to help one of his friends, Jack didn't realize how he hurt the others.

"I'd like to hear more about this," Janet assured him, "but Colonel O'Neill is right. We're here to look for some clues to the virus."

Daniel nodded, the hurt look fading from his face. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"Well, I'm not sure. So far we've ruled out airborne, so it might be on something, the rocks, in the dirt, maybe even the statue."

"The statue!" Jack exclaimed, striding to where it sat in the middle of the room. "The last time I was here I tried to move it and it was covered with this sticky stuff. I thought it was some kind of jungle mold or something. Could it be living in that?"

A smile burst across Janet's face. "It's a very good possibility! Teal'c, are you sensing anything?"

"I have felt nothing since entering this chamber. Perhaps this suit is preventing my symbiote from detecting its presence."

Janet's grin widened. "That's the point, Teal'c. To prevent you from getting sick."

"But I cannot be of assistance if I cannot ascertain if the virus is present or not." Before Janet could stop him, Teal'c was opening the closure on the orange suit.

"Teal'c! You're exposing yourself to the virus!" she cried, rushing to re-seal his suit.

"I shall be fine, DoctorFraiser," he said, gently pushing her aside as he approached the statue. "This is most definitely the source," he said as he hurriedly backed away. "Once more I find I must leave."

Janet watched him vanish through the small opening in the wall, following immediately behind him. "Teal'c? Are you all right?"

He was leaning against the side of the temple, breathing hard. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, but he gave her a slight nod. "I shall be fine," he stated again. "I was not that close the last time."

Janet was instantly concerned, placing her hand on the hot skin of his forehead. "You're very warm. What about your symbiote?"

"My Prim'ta is agitated but only in reaction to the presence of the virus. I do not believe it has been harmed. I did not touch the statue so I do not believe I have come in contact with the infectious agent."

Jack crawled out of the temple, moving to help steady the Jaffa. "You okay, buddy?"

"I shall be fine, O'Neill."

"Is that all he ever says?" Janet asked, searching through her bag for a thermometer.

Daniel suppressed a smile as he joined them. "Either that or 'do not concern yourself.' Teal'c when are you going to learn that just because you're a Jaffa you're not invincible?"

"DoctorFraiser needed to know if the virus was present. I am the only one who could determined that fact."

Daniel just shook his head. "I guess there's no arguing with you."

"Indeed."

Janet slipped the thermometer into his mouth, holding up her hand to forestall his argument. "I know, I know, Junior will take care of you, but humor me. Whether you've contracted the virus or not, your symbiote is working hard to protect you. I just want to make sure its not working *too* hard."

Teal'c stood mute, managing to grimace around the temperature gauge protruding from his mouth. The beeper sounded and Janet removed the device.

"It's a little high for you, but not dangerous. I'm going to take another look at that statue. And you," she said, poking Teal'c in the chest for emphasis, "are going to stay out here. Is that understood?"

Teal'c merely inclined his head.

"Sir, stay with him? Make sure he's okay? Daniel, could you give me a hand?"

Daniel followed her back into the temple, accepting the pair of rubber gloves she handed him. "So, what are we doing?"

"My theory is that whatever substance is on the statue, it's the medium used to keep the virus alive." Janet moved to let the sunlight hit the sculpture, using a tiny plastic spatula to scrape some of the coating off. It was gelatinous, coming off in long strings that she wound around the collector before placing it in a bag.

"Ewww," Daniel said as she gathered another sample. "I can just imagine what colorful metaphors Jack would use to describe this."

Janet smiled. "It boggles the mind."

"Funny you should say that." Glancing up, Janet gave him a quizzical look. "I just mean since it's 'boggling' Sam's mind and all."

"Well, hopefully this is going to help. I had some new thoughts about how we might develop a broad-base vaccine. I just wish there was a virologist I could talk to that had the proper clearance."

"Surely there has to be someone," Daniel said.

"General Hammond is working on it. Even though this doesn't appear to affect Humans, it's not the sort of thing he can afford to have leak out to the public. He keeps telling me he has complete faith in me. I wish I did."

"Hey," Daniel said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, giving her a hug. "We all have faith in you. You've never let us down yet!"

Janet blinked back the moisture gathering in her eyes. "Thanks, Daniel. I know I'm supposed to stay detached, and not get involved, but it's a little hard when it's my best friend. Watching Sam deteriorate daily is killing me. This has to work. I don't know what else I can try."

"You'll do it, Janet. No doubt about it. Now, we should get this stuff back to Earth before Jack decides he wants to try to help."

~27~

Sitting on a bed in the infirmary, Janet found herself empathizing with SG-1. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd been the recipient of a post-mission physical, but this time she thought Dr. Warner was being excessive. Even *she* wasn't this thorough! Looking to her right, she saw Colonel O'Neill staring back at her, grin as wide as Texas across his face.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," he said, somehow managing to grin even wider. "Just nice to see the shoe on the other foot for a change. Or, the needle in the other butt as the case may be."

Janet narrowed her gaze at him. "Remember, Colonel, I'll be on duty after your next mission." Jack's smile slipped a bit at that, but he was still milking her discomfort for all it was worth. She supposed she couldn't blame him. After all, he had to go through this on a regular basis. But did he have to be so accommodating to Warner just to piss her off?

Finally cleared, Janet headed straight to her lab, only to find Sam seated in front of a microscope, staring off into space.

"Sam? What are you doing here?"

Sam jumped at the sound of Janet's voice, turning to look at her with vague eyes. She blinked slowly, appearing almost drugged.

"Janet?"

"Yeah, honey, it's me," she said, taking a seat next to her. "Sam, what are you doing here?" she repeated. "I called you last night and told you not to come in because I was going off-world, remember?"

"No, I don't," she said, tears filling her eyes. "I talked to you?"

"Yes, I told you that since I wasn't going to be here it would be better if you stayed home. Did you drive here?"

"I think so," she said, looking like she really had to concentrate to access the information. "Yes. Yes I did drive here. I think I almost hit a car."

Janet took a deep breath. She was really hoping they wouldn't have to take turns watching her; that she'd have a cure before Sam degenerated to this. Unfortunately, it seemed as if she was losing the battle against the virus, her own immune system unable to slow the spread of the disease.

"Sam, I've talked with the guys and we're going help you at home for a while, okay? You're going to need someone to drive you home and help you with some chores around the house."

"No," she almost wailed. "I don't want help!"

"Sam!" Janet said sharply, then softened her tone. "You need help. It's just like when you broke your arm, the guys and I all helped you out then, didn't we?"

"Yes," she said, looking down at the floor. "But I don't want you too. You're busy."

"Not too busy to help. Granted, it's probably going to be the guys more than me since I'm still hoping to find a cure for this."

Janet noticed Sam's speech was changing as well. She spoke in shorter sentences, with simpler words. That more than anything hit home how much this was affecting Sam. She'd always been so articulate, never at a loss for words. To see her struggle to get concepts across was almost physically painful.

"Sam, there's a drug I want you to try called L-DOPA. It helps your body produce dopamine which stimulates the neurotransmitters in your brain. Now it's not a cure, but it may stave off some of the symptoms you're showing. I would have had you try this sooner, but you were holding your own. However, your condition is deteriorating faster than I had anticipated."

"Will it help me think?"

Janet smiled. "Well, I don't know, but things you try to do shouldn't be as difficult. Come on. We'll try a sample dose and if there's no side effects, I'll let one of the guys take you home."

~28~

Daniel tapped his pen against his desk, lost in thought. He was pretty sure he had cracked the language barrier on the temple, but if he was reading it correctly, it didn't make sense. From all appearances, the people of R4X-642 actually loved their Goa'uld god. Naturally he expected to find words of praise on a temple dedicated to Pele. What surprised him were the tales of how she actually *defended* her people against the "evil ones." There were no words to incite fear and awe of their god as was usually the case when he found texts referring to the "gods." Instead there were tales of how she vanquished those who would "take what was hers."

At first Daniel thought the script was referring to the naquada statue, but upon closer study, it was the *people* she saw as her valuable commodity. He couldn't say for sure, but if the praise was accurate and not borne of fear, Pele cared for her people as they apparently cared for her.

He was still puzzling over this strange finding when Jack knocked on his door.

"Hey. You ready for the debriefing? Hammond wants to put a period to this mission today."

"Yeah," he said, standing. Pushing his glasses up his nose, Daniel grabbed his notes. "I found out some pretty interesting stuff. Kind of a contrast to the Goa'uld's usual MO. In fact. . ."

"You know, Daniel, I'm sure it's fascinating, but if you tell me now, you'll ruin the suspense. I think I'll wait for the debriefing."

They headed for the elevator, walking side by side. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Never let me finish what I was going. . ."

"I don't!"

". . . to say."

"Okay, bad example."

"Jack!"

"What?! If you tell me now, you might leave something important out at the meeting, and I'm sure Hammond wants to hear every word."

Jack hadn't fooled him for a second. He didn't know why he even bothered to try to enlighten the man. It was obvious he had a one-track mind. If it didn't involve how it could better the SGC or the military, he didn't want to hear about it.

Entering the conference room, Daniel noticed Frasier, Teal'c and Hammond were already present.

"Are we late?" Daniel asked, taking a seat next to Janet.

"I just arrived myself, Doctor. So, Colonel O'Neill, would you like to start us off?"

Jack launched into his abridged version of the mission, punctuated from time to time with comments from Teal'c and Janet. Daniel had been silent during the meeting, so he wasn't surprised when the general asked,

"Doctor Jackson? Do you have anything you'd like to add?"

"About the mission? No, sir. It happened pretty much the way Jack described it." Hammond was about to close the meeting when Daniel quickly added, "However, I do have some interesting observations about the temple writings."

Glancing around the room he saw Jack roll his eyes; Janet slump a little in her seat and Teal'c remaining the same. Hammond gave a resigned sigh.

"Go ahead."

"I didn't have time to make copies of what I found, so I guess you'll just have to imagine how the text is laid out."

"What? No visual aids?" Jack quipped.

"I think you'll be able to follow along," he said, giving Jack a glacial stare. "Okay, when I first translated the writings on the temple, I thought they were just the usual 'Pele is wonderful' kind of thing. But as I dug deeper, it seems the people genuinely *cared* for her not only as a deity but as someone who'd helped them in the past."

"What makes you say that," Jack asked, wincing as if he was going to regret having voiced the question.

Daniel paged through his notes, pulling out the sheet he wanted. "As best as I can translate, there was a line that said: 'she whom we adore has saved us from the evil ones.' Now, evil ones could mean other people on the planet, but since the UAV didn't seem to find any other civilizations, I'm guessing they were referring to the Goa'uld."

"Maybe she just wanted to keep these people for herself," Janet interjected.

"I thought of that too, but you saw the village yourself, did it look like any type of slave activity had been going on to you?"

"Well, I didn't have much of a look around, but no, it just seemed like an abandoned community," she said.

"Which is unusual when there's a regular Goa'uld around."

"It could be they have been on their own for sometime," Teal'c suggested.

"That's very possible, but I think they had been protected as well. I think Pele might have been a rather benign Goa'uld. Possibly a Tok'ra sympathizer. I also think she was a victim of her own line of defense."

A frown creased Jack's brow. "I don't follow you."

"I think the virus was designed to kill any raiding Goa'uld, and the naquada statue was the bait."

"Okay, back up here. Why would she risk creating something that would be deadly to herself?"

Daniel looked down at the table. "I don't know. Unless she thought she could control it somehow, had an antidote or something."

"Well if she had an antidote, there must be one around!" Jack cried.

"Colonel," Janet spoke gently, "If Pele thought she had an antidote, it obviously didn't work. I can't be one hundred percent sure, but one of the skeletons was female. Odds are it was Pele."

"That doesn't mean a cure can't be found," he insisted.

"You're right. I haven't had much time to work with the sample I brought back, but I have had some success with a combatant for Major Carter's symptoms which may prove instrumental in creating a vaccine. On the downside, her neural pathways are being blocked at an alarming rate. Much faster than I anticipated."

Daniel shot Jack a look, not surprised to see the color draining from the man's face. "Blocked," Daniel said. "So you're saying if she gets an antidote, it's possible this won't have done any permanent damage?"

"The way it looks now, I'd say she's got a pretty good chance for a complete recovery. However, the longer it takes, the greater possibility for irreversible damage."

"Doctor, you said you've had some success with a treatment?" Hammond asked.

"I've tried a drug called L-DOPA, which is often used to treat Parkinson's Disease among others. It helps maintain her dopamine levels, which in turn will help keep her neural pathways clear. This isn't a cure, but it should slow down her degeneration and help her retain some level of functionality."

"Well, that's something positive for a change. Thank you, Doctor," Hammond said, giving her a warm smile. Turning to face Daniel, he asked, "Dr. Jackson, you said you have reason to believe Pele was a Tok'ra? When I contacted Persus to inform him of this virus, I mentioned the name Pele. He didn't seem to recognize it as being Tok'ra."

"I didn't say Tok'ra necessarily. Tok'ra don't take on the personalities of gods, but I do think she was a sympathizer. Not all the Goa'uld are out for conquest and power. That's not to say she didn't capitalize on the fact she had a 'following.' I just think she probably didn't mistreat them in a typical Goa'uld fashion."

"Lesser of two evils?" Jack supplied.

"Something like that."

Jack rubbed his hands over his face, leaning forward on the table. "Let me get this straight. You think Pele developed this virus to kill off the Goa'uld who wanted her piece of the action, right?"

"Well, that's not exactly how I'd put it, but yeah."

"And the infected statue is kind of an eternal 'up yours' to the rest of the Goa'uld?"

"Basically, yes."

"Sweet," he said, leaning back into his chair.

"Doctor Fraiser, it seems you have your work cut-out for you," Hammond said. "I've tried to get clearance for the virologists you've suggested, but my superiors say it's too risky."

"Too risky?" Jack yelled. "Carter could die from this and they're worried about a little breach in security?"

"Colonel, I know how you feel when it comes to a member of your team, but my hands are tied. Believe me, I pulled every string I could."

Jack slumped back into his chair. "I'm sure you did, sir."

"There's one more thing," Janet said, causing the men to look at her. "I need to get back to the lab, and Sam's going to need someone to take her home tonight."

Jack sat up straighter. "She's here? I thought you were going to tell her not to come in today with us being off world."

"I did, but she forgot I called her. I'm actually quite surprised she made it here without either getting lost or getting in an accident. Although, she said she did have one close call."

"I'll take her," Daniel said. "I'm basically finished for the day."

"Or, I could," Jack volunteered. Daniel thought O'Neill was doing a pretty fair job of seeming nonchalant, but he knew him too well. He might have fooled the general with his off-handed suggestion, but Daniel could see he wanted to be the one to take Sam home. He was about to retract his offer when Hammond spoke before he had a chance.

"That would be fine, Dr. Jackson. Jack, you and I need to discuss retrieval of that statue. We need to find a way to secure that naquada before someone else gets their hands on it."

After witnessing Jack's disappointment, Daniel tried to reassure him. "I'll make sure she gets home. Maybe you can take a shift tomorrow?" If Janet didn't come up with a cure soon, Jack would have more than enough time to spend with her.

~29~

Jack sat at his desk, pushing papers around, trying to fool himself into thinking he was working. One look at his out-box proved he hadn't accomplished squat. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with Sam. Well, more wrong. He'd seen Daniel in the commissary when he'd arrived on base, but his assurances Sam had been fine when he'd visited her that morning were far from convincing. Until he saw for himself she was coping, he couldn't relax. The trouble was, he couldn't tell Daniel he didn't trust his judgment, nor could he think of an excuse to give Hammond as to why he needed to check up on her when Daniel had seen her a little over an hour ago.

So, he retreated to his office, in the hopes he'd forget the nagging thoughts in the back of his mind, or the way his stomach hadn't untied itself all day. He was jolted from his reverie as the pencil he'd been fiddling with snapped in two.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself, reaching for the phone. He'd call her, make sure she was all right, and get back to work. He'd tossed the broken pencil into the trash and replaced it with a pen he now tapped incessantly on the desk. "Come on, Carter. Pick up the damn phone." After ten rings he decided she was out. But where would she go? Her car was still in the parking lot topside. If she'd gone somewhere, it would have been on foot. Was there anywhere she could walk to? If he recalled, most of the stores were some distance from her suburban home. He dialed the number of her cell phone, hoping she'd at least thought to keep it with her.

It rang about twelve times before he gave up. Jack rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the knots in his stomach tighten further. Maybe Janet had heard something. It wasn't so unusual for him to ask after Sam in a situation like this, was it? God, he hated this second guessing! He was worried and he felt like he couldn't even express more than casual concern on the off chance someone would view it as extreme. He stood up. He wouldn't be having this internal debate if it were Teal'c or Daniel. It shouldn't make a difference that it was Carter. But it did.

"Screw this," he said, tossing the pen onto the desk with such force it skittered off the surface landing near the door. It was a sign. It was telling him to go. To exit through that door and put his mind to rest, and for the first time that day, he didn't hesitate.

***

It was starting to sleet as Jack crossed the parking lot to his truck. *What a miserable day,* he thought, realizing it matched his inner turmoil. There was something off, he could just feel it. He never questioned his gut reactions in the field; he wasn't going to ignore them now.

Visibility was low as he made his way to Sam's house, making the journey that much longer and nerve wracking. He was going to feel like such an ass when he found her relaxing on her sofa. Maybe she'd turned off the phone to get some rest. There were a million reasons why she wouldn't pick up the phone and still be fine. She was never going to let him forget this. She'd tease him forever about his overactive imagination and excessive concern. God, he hoped so.

Jack pulled up to the curb, noting there was nothing unusual about the house. Everything seemed intact and as it should be. He felt a portion of himself relax slightly, but until he saw her grinning self-consciously at his worry, he couldn't let the tension go.

Jack jogged to her porch, zipping his jacket against the driving wind and sleet. He shook off the slush that had accumulated in his hair, as he absently cursed the late fall weather. Knocking on her door, he waited interminable minutes for her to answer. He tried again, this time pounding on the door longer and louder.

"Carter! Come on! Open up!" There was still no sounds coming from the interior, and he called again. "Carter, it's me!" He waited a few more seconds before he tried the knob, surprised when it easily turned.

Stepping into her foyer, he spoke tentatively. "Carter? You didn't answer the door so I just. . . ." His eyes quickly scanned the room, fearing he'd find her passed out or something. But the room was empty, and he didn't know if that was better or worse. A quick check of the rest of the house revealed she wasn't there. Where could she be? Where would she have gone?

Jack looked around her kitchen, hoping to find some clue. Maybe she needed to go out and called a cab, but there was no evidence of that either. Picking up her phone, he quickly dialed Daniel's number at the SGC.

"Daniel Jackson."

"Daniel! You have any idea where Carter might go?"

It took him a moment to respond. "Jack? Where are you?"

"I'm at her house, but she's not here," he said, trying to curb his impatience.

"What are you doing there? I thought you were on the base, working on reports or something."

"Look, Daniel, I'll give you my itinerary later. Sam's not here, and her door wasn't locked. Did she mention anything to you this morning about any errands she had to run?"

"Um, no. I would have taken her if she'd said something. Of course, being Sam, she probably thought to ask would be an imposition." Even though Daniel couldn't see him, Jack found himself nodding.

"Grab Teal'c and start looking around the stores and stuff. I'm gonna drive around her neighborhood. And keep your cell with you!"

"We'll find her, Jack. She couldn't have gotten far."

"I know, but the weather is really crap out." Turning around, he noticed her jacket hanging on a peg near the door. "And it looks like she isn't dressed for it. Call me if you get anything." Jack closed his phone and ran out the door. Now he was really getting worried. The temperature had continued to drop since this morning, and who knew how long she'd been out there without adequate protection?

Climbing back into his truck, Jack berated himself for letting her out of his sight. *I should have insisted Daniel stayed with her until someone else could take over. We shouldn't have left her alone, regardless of how 'fine' she said she was.* As he turned a corner, he found himself smiling, speaking aloud. "As if she'd *let* any of us stay with her." She was strong willed. Too strong willed sometimes. Unwilling to let others help her, even when she needed a hand. Apparently she'd learned more from him than just military tactics.

The sleet was thickening more into snow, and his wiper blades where having a hard time keeping his windshield clean. Add to that the deepening twilight and it was nearly impossible to see the road, let alone someone out walking. He took a left and found himself on the backside of the park that was across from her house. He remembered how she kept going on and on about the park when she'd been looking at buying the house. As if it was the real draw. At the time he thought it was strange she wanted to buy a house when she was rarely home, but then again, the same could be said for him. Even if he didn't spend a great deal of time there, it was comforting to know he had a retreat from the base that was less sterile than an apartment. He remembered teasing her about her "need for nature" when she was out in it all the time when they went off world. In the end, she'd bought the house and adopted the park as her back yard.

"Of course! The park!" he yelled. He should have thought to look there first. He could easily imagine her strolling the asphalt paths as she struggled with a physics problem or even something as mundane as what to fix for dinner. Whenever she needed to think, to escape, he could see her going to the park.

"D'oh!" he said, slapping his forehead. How come he hadn't thought of it sooner? Maybe he was getting as absent minded as she was. Slowing down, he scanned the walking paths, but they were deserted, as expected in weather like this. Jack rolled down his window, hoping to see further into the gloom than he had through the water streaked glass. There! Was that someone on a bench? There was a dark shaped huddled on what appeared to be a bench along one of the paths.

"Carter?" he called, but the figure didn't move. Pulling over, Jack threw the truck into park, jumping out of the vehicle almost before it had stopped moving. "Sam!" he called again, but the figure still hadn't moved.

As he closed the distance between himself and the person on the bench, he noticed the hair plastered to the person's head was blonde, and he felt his heart drop to his socks. Not that he wasn't relieved to find her, but the thought she'd been out in the sleet with no coat or hat for God knew how long, made the pain in his stomach intensify.

Jack rushed up to her, continuing to call her name until he crouched down beside her. She didn't look up until he touched her, and then it seemed to take her long seconds to realize who he was.

"Jack?"

"Yeah, Sam, it's me," he said, pushing her dripping, slush encrusted hair back from her face. "What are you doing out here without a coat on?" he asked, helping her to stand.

"I went for a walk. It was sunny out."

"That was a long time ago! How long have you been out here?" he asked, quickly shedding his jacket and wrapping it around her.

"I don't know."

"When the weather got bad, why didn't you go home?"

"I. . .I tried. I can't find it." Tears were mingling with the melting snow on her face and Jack pulled her close. Sam was shivering so hard, her tremors were shaking his body as well. His shirt was already soaked as he began to lead her towards the truck.

"Let's get you home and warmed up," he said still holding her close, sharing what body heat he could offer. He opened the passenger door for her, helping her into the truck.

"I'm wet," she protested as he settled her on the seat.

"Yeah, but it'll dry," he assured her, brushing the wet hair from her face once more. Her lips were blue and her teeth chattering. Lord only knew how long she'd been sitting out there. If she'd zoned out, it could have been for hours.

Jack dug a blanket out from behind the seat, tucking it around her before he climbed into the driver's side. Starting the engine, he turned the heater up full blast, hoping it would begin to warm her. He remembered his cell phone was in the pocket of his jacket which was now buried underneath the blanket he'd just secured around her.

"Sorry, but I need to get my phone," he said, unwrapping her from the rapidly dampening blanket. Jack quickly dialed the number, surprised when Daniel picked it up after one ring.

"Hello?"

"Daniel! I found her!" he heard muffled sounds as Daniel relayed the news to Teal'c.

"Where was she?"

"In the park. On the far side." Jack looked over at Sam, his hand was resting on her shoulder, as if he was making sure she was still there. "She said it was nice out so she went for a walk. God only knows how long she's been out here without a coat." He pulled his hand away from her in order to move the truck from its spot along the curb.

"Are you bringing her into the infirmary?" Daniel asked.

"Maybe later, right now I have to get her warmed up and her house is the closest."

"Do you want Teal'c and I to come over?"

"No, that's okay. I'll stick her in the shower, warm her up and then I'll see. If she seems like she's worse, I'll bring her in. I don't know that there's anything Janet or you guys can do, anyway."

"No, I suppose not," Daniel sighed. "Well, let us know what happens. I could bring a pizza or something," he offered.

"It's okay, Daniel. Thanks, though. I'll call you later." Daniel's phone clicked off as Jack closed his. By the time they'd finished their conversation, he'd arrived back at Sam's house. She was sitting there, shivering, even with the heater blowing on her. Helping her out of the truck, he kept the blanket wrapped around her.

"I'm so cold," she said through clenched teeth and Jack found his arms tightening around her.

"I know. But we'll warm you up in just a minute." He opened the outer door, leading her towards the bathroom. Sitting her on the edge of the tub, he started by removing her socks and shoes. Once he'd taken them off, he rubbed her feet, trying to get her circulation going. Helping her to stand, he pulled off her sodden sweater and removed her jeans. She was standing there, staring off into space totally unaware he was even there.

"Sam!" said, gently shaking her shoulder. "Come on! Snap out of it! You, uh, you need to do the rest."

She looked down at her partially unbuttoned shirt and bare legs as if she wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"You need to get in the shower. I'll get the water ready. You, uh, finish getting undressed."

Jack turned all of his attention to adjusting the temperature of the bath. He was *not* going to think about the fact Sam was undressing inches from him. She was cold. She needed to warm up. It was no different than if they were on a mission. *Stay focused,* he told himself, but all he could focus on at the moment was the memory of her standing before him, barely covered with a clinging shirt and underwear. He'd never seen so much of her legs, he realized, and he was thinking maybe that was a good thing. Sure he'd seen her in civvies, admired her figure in jeans, but it wasn't the same thing. God, she had great legs! He swallowed, closing his eyes. He couldn't believe he was checking her out! She was on the verge of hypothermia and he was thinking about what lay beneath her soaked blouse!

"Carter? You ready?" he asked, hoping his voice didn't sound as rough to her as it did to him. "I'm going to turn around so you can get in the shower, okay?"

"Okay." Her voice sounded distant, as if she still wasn't all there. Like she was doing as he instructed simply because she'd been told. Jack heard the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back, and the water now sounding like it was hitting something softer than the far wall.

Putting down the lid of the toilet, Jack took a seat, unsure if he should give her some privacy or stay close in case something else happened. Even as steam filled the room, he felt himself shiver. His clothes were nearly as soaked as hers, only he hadn't been exposed to the cold wind for the length of time she had. Thoughts of joining her in the shower were quickly squashed. He could take one after her. That is if she didn't use up all the hot water.

Jack couldn't help his eyes from straying to outline of her body shadowed against the shower curtain. The blurred image showed her less clearly than her clothing, but somehow this was much more erotic. The thought she was less then a foot from him, naked, was doing strange things to him. The tension in his stomach had changed from one of painful knots to frustrated desire.

Shaking his head, Jack tried to clear the impure thoughts plaguing him. This was Carter! His 2IC! But that was the problem. This was Sam, and that was making this situation dangerous. The sooner he got her warmed up and into some nice bulky unrevealing clothes, the better. How could he even be thinking of her in that way when she wasn't able to think clearly?

"You're sick, O'Neill," he muttered to himself as he struggled to think of the body behind the shower curtain as just another soldier. *But Kawalsky never looked like that,* he mused.

Clearing his throat, he called, "how're ya doing, Carter?"

"Fine, sir. Getting warm."

*Sir,* he thought. *Good. Keep that up Sam and we'll get through this and laugh about it later.*

Jack looked up as he heard the water turn off. Was she done already? Her hand started pushing the curtain back and he leapt to his feet. "Carter wait! I'll get you a towel!" He searched her cupboards but couldn't find any. "Uh, where do you keep them?" There was a moment of silence. "Carter?"

"I. . .I'm not sure. Hall closet?"

It seemed like a strange place to keep towels, but just because she was logical at work didn't mean it was extended to her home. It turned out the closet was just outside the bathroom so it wasn't so illogical after all. Grabbing two towels, he re-entered the bathroom, averting his eyes as he passed the bath sheet behind the curtain. It wasn't long before she stepped out from the tub. Jack chanced a glance up, relieved she had the towel wrapped around her slim frame. Her hair was dripping wet, and he wondered why she hadn't ran the terry cloth over her head first.

"You didn't dry your hair," he said, taking a step closer with the other towel.

"I forgot," she said, moving one step closer to him. Before he realized what he was doing, he was running the towel over her hair, absorbing the excess moisture. He felt her hand on his cheek, the touch feather light.

"Thank you," she said, staring into his eyes.

Jack felt his throat tighten and his heart begin to beat faster. "For what?"

"For finding me," she whispered. Her fingers were caressing the hard angle of his jaw and he closed his eyes. He wished she'd stop, but at the same time prayed she wouldn't remove her hand. "I was so cold."

"I know," he said, barely breathing. "How do you feel now?"

"Warm," she smiled.

He didn't know if she was purposely being seductive or if her normal reserve had been stripped away along with her reasoning processes. That was the trouble. She wasn't in her right mind. She'd never act this way with him under normal circumstances. Not that he hadn't wished for it. Dreamed of it even. But in this situation it wasn't right, and he had to stop her before she did something she'd regret. That they'd both regret.

Her hand left his face, trailing down to his soaked shirt. "You're wet. You should get warm too."

He didn't tell her he was already feeling the heat rising in his body. "I'll change when I get home."

"I have something big you can wear," she said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

Jack froze. He knew he should stop her. It would only take a single word, but his voice was suddenly gone. He could push her hands away, but his own refused to move. This was wrong on so many levels, and yet the ripples of pleasure that flowed over him at her touch were clouding his judgment.

Another button loosened and she pushed the fabric further off his chest. He held his breath, suspended between wanting to finish the job himself and waiting for her to continue her slow torture. The last closure was opened and she slid her hands up his cold skin to push the shirt from his shoulders. As she did, she leaned in, kissing him lightly on the chest.

Jack sucked in a breath, still paralyzed, afraid any movement would shatter the moment. How long had he fantasized about a situation like this? How long had he wanted her? He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't thought of her without a bittersweet ache. The rules were still there. She was uninhibited because her mind had blocked her reserve along with complex concepts. She was acting on instinct and their innate desires were mutual. This might be wrong, but nothing had ever felt so right. His gaze locked with hers as her hand moved up to caress his cheek once more.

"I want you, Jack," she spoke, voice hoarse with emotion.

He closed his eyes, trying to forget how her words, her touch were affecting him. "Sam. . ."

She moved her fingers over his lips, stopping any further protests. "This isn't the virus. This is me. I don't want to die not knowing you."

Her words broke the spell that held him. Crushing her to his chest, he held her tight. "You're not going to die! Doc Fraiser is gonna kick this thing in the ass!"

"The other's died," she said, wrapping her arms around him.

"They were Goa'ulds! You're not! That El Nino or Dopa stuff she gave you helped already!"

"It's not a cure. I could die."

Jack pulled back, tipping her head up to make her look him in the eye. "You're not going to die. I won't let you."

Sam managed a crooked smile. "You don't know. That's why I want now. I want tonight. I don't want regrets."

"Sam, you're in shock, you were sitting out in a snowstorm for God's sake! You're not thinking clearly!"

"Then that's my story," she said, running her fingers through his damp hair. "Just hold me, please?"

Jack couldn't refuse her request. He pulled her close once more, but soon Sam's hands were roaming over his bare back, kissing him on the neck. He wasn't going to do this! He'd hold her, keep her safe and warm but that's as far as it was going to go. She moved out of his embrace long enough to let the towel fall to the floor, and his resolve crumbled. God, she was beautiful! And he'd been in love with her for so long. He'd tried everything to get over her, but nothing worked. He'd finally convinced himself he didn't *want* to get over her. Even the ache of feelings he couldn't act on was better than nothing.

Her fingers wound themselves into his hair once more, pulling his head down to hers. Just before she kissed him, she whispered against his lips, "don't you want me?" And thoughts of another alien virus flashed through his mind. He'd pushed her away that time, unsure how he felt about her aggressive behavior. Now he knew. He did want her. More than he thought possible.

"Sam," he said, but it came out almost more of a moan as he moved the fraction of an inch closer to capture her mouth. The relatively light touch of their lips soon turned heated as he pulled her closer, and he was lost. Regulations and common sense be damned.

He was drowning in her kiss and he didn't care. He never wanted to come up for air. Somehow they'd made it to her bedroom, and along the way, the rest of his sodden clothes found their way to the floor.

"You're cold," she spoke against his lips. "I'll have to make you warm." Pulling covers over naked bodies and chilled skin, together they created heat.

On to Part 4

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