Disclaimers in Part 1.

*********

Jack closed the door behind him, knowing she was crying. He couldn't say he blamed her. This was an awful lot to accept in a short time. The thing that hurt the most was he couldn't help her beyond offering support, and she'd just eighty-sixed that by asking him to leave. Until she was ready to face the world again, he might as well make himself comfortable.

He'd visited Sam on several occasions, but never spent the night on her sofa. The gang usually crashed at his home, not the other way around. Maybe it was because he had a house and Sam and Daniel had apartments. And Teal'c stayed in quarters at the base. Perhaps that's why they had a tendency to congregate at his place. Teal'c seemed at the same level of comfort wherever he was, which wasn't saying a lot. He wasn't looking forward to the evening on the narrow couch, but there wasn't much choice. He'd promised Janet he wouldn't leave her alone, so the too-small looking sofa would be home for awhile.

Jack usually didn't take the time to notice what adornments his friends had arranged to cozy up their living spaces. Most often they gathered for beer and TV, whether it be a video, or sports event. That was the focus of his attention, not what his friends had on the walls. But now there was little left to occupy his time. The thought of beer propelled Jack towards the refrigerator which held six longnecks of his favorite. He knew Sam would offer it, had she been in the room, so he helped himself. Twisting off the cap, he looked around her kitchen. Not a lot of pots and pans, but then he knew she wasn't big on cooking. Opening the cupboards, he noticed there wasn't much in the way of food. He hadn't thought of that. Knowing she was going on a mission, she probably thought it silly to stock up until she returned. Well, she'd done that, the only trouble is, she came back as a different person. He'd order a pizza when she felt like eating something.

Jack moved into the living room, searching the shelves below the ones with her books. He found strange pieces of primitive statues used as bookends--no doubt a gift from Daniel--holding together odds and ends, one of which was a photo album. He withdrew the book and began flipping though it. They were recent pictures, within the last five years, he guessed. Maybe this would help Sam to remember something, he thought, getting excited by the possibility. He took the album and lay it on the coffee table as he heard the bedroom door open.

Jack looked up, expecting to see Samantha, but only saw her back as she entered the bathroom. There was the sound of running water, then the door opening once more. Samantha tried to cover the fact she'd been crying, but the cold water she must have splashed on her face couldn't hide her red, swollen eyes. Jack's heart wrenched to see her forcing a smile.

There was a long silence, neither sure what to say. Samantha's gaze settled on the beer bottle sitting on the coffee table, and Jack looked slightly embarrassed.

"I just helped myself. Sorry."

"It's okay," she said. "I want you to make yourself at home."

It suddenly struck him as ironic that he should be more comfortable in her apartment than she was.

Samantha reached for the bottle, but he pulled it out of her reach. "I don't think so," Jack admonished. "Don't you think you've lost enough brain cells for a while?" He hoped his smile softened his reprimand.

"I suppose you're right," she sighed. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the fabric-covered book on the table.

"A photo album. It was on your bookshelf. I thought maybe it might spark something."

Samantha came around the table, taking a seat beside him. Opening the book, the first picture was her standing on the steps of the Pentagon, in her dress blues, with an older man, also in dress uniform.

"My father?" she asked.

"General Jacob Carter, United States Air Force."

"So, I'm an Air Force brat," she commented, moving on to the next picture.

Jack was amazed she could remember slang terms, but she couldn't remember being that military brat. How was that possible? It was if only selected memories were lost. Like everything that was "Sam" was now gone. But that wasn't necessarily true. It was more like Sam with out all the walls she'd built around herself. That everyone built around themselves. It wasn't so much that she was acting differently. She reacted to things the way she always had, only without the pretense.

"What about this one?" she asked, pointing to a shot of the four members of their team, arms around each other's shoulders, covered in paint. They were dressed in fatigues, with splats of florescent paint all over their clothes and in their hair. And they were laughing, not just smiling, but laughing so hard it looked as if they hadn't been supporting each other they would have fallen over.

Jack smiled at the memory of that day, wishing Samantha could share it with him. He started chuckling, as he recounted the tale.

"We, uh, kind of snuck off the base for a day of paint balling."

"Snuck off the base?"

Jack scratched his head. "Well, we were scheduled for training drills, but you got the bright idea of going paint balling instead."

"*I* did?"

"Yeah, I was a little surprised myself, 'cause you're usually a little more by-the-book than I am. But you convinced me that it was a good way of teaching Danny more about combat without him ending up in the infirmary, like he usually does. Plus, you thought it would be something different to show Teal'c. You even shot him right in the middle of his tattoo," he said, pointing to a vivid pink splotch in the middle of the Jaffa's forehead.

"It looks like we had fun," Samantha commented.

"Oh, we usually have a good time when we get together, but this was one of the best days. That is until we were busted the next morning."

"'Busted?'"

"Yeah, we had a briefing with the general the following day to discuss how our drills had gone. I gave him some dry report, but I could see the general's eyes kept straying to Daniel. When I looked up, I saw what had attracted Hammond's attention. Under the lighting of the briefing room, Daniel's hair had a distinct orange spot still in it. I quickly looked around to see if any of the rest of us had any remnants left, but I guess we managed to do a little better job on cleaning up than Danny."

"So what happened?"

"The general looked at Daniel and asked him, 'Dr. Jackson, is that orange marking in your hair some kind of Abydosian custom, or weren't you as thorough as your team mates at removing evidence? And Colonel, next time you decide to deviate from S.O.P. for training drills, make sure you run them past me first.'"

Samantha started to laugh, the first genuine laugh he'd heard since she'd woken from her coma.

"My mouth was just hanging open," he continued. I had *no* idea how he found out. I mean, the paint in Daniel's hair could have come from anything. I never did find out how he knew. He could have put an official reprimand in each of our files, but he didn't. He just looked at me, shook his head and tried to pretend he wasn't amused by the whole thing."

"General Hammond sounds like he'd be a good man to work for," Samantha said. "I only met him the once, but he seemed genuinely concerned about my well-being."

"He's the best," Jack agreed. "In fact if he hadn't been put in charge of the. . . ." he stopped himself just before he revealed what Hammond now considered classified information. Maybe he'd already said too much with telling her about the training maneuvers. But every branch of the military did that. It wasn't any secret.

"In charge of the what?" Samantha asked.

Jack's eyes met hers. "I wish I could tell you, Samantha. Like I said, I think not telling you is stupid and counter-productive, but I have to go along with the general on this one. His hands are tied."

Samantha nodded, looking away from him. She found another picture to question him about and the subject was dropped. Damn, he wished she'd remember something. *Anything* that would convince the general it was all right to tell Samantha about the Stargate program. He hated feeling like he was keeping secrets from her.

*********

Samantha and Jack spent the rest of the afternoon poring over the photo album. Many of the pictures Jack couldn't explain as they were from her life before she'd moved to Colorado. The others, that featured him and the rest his team, seemed to elicit more stories like the paint ball one. If she could take him at his word, they were indeed a close-knit group.

She asked Jack about the one he called Teal'c. He had an exotic look to him and the gold tattoo on his forehead was very unusual. Not the boy next door, she commented. That had gotten a laugh out of Jack and she found she liked making him smile. It made him almost look boyish. His explanation for Teal'c was he was part of an obscure religious group from Egypt. How he ended up being on an American armed forces team was still a mystery, but Jack's acceptance of him was so complete, she didn't think to question him further.

Even after talking with Jack, and looking at the pictures, nothing came back to her. Every once in a while she'd get a flash of. . .something, but before she could begin to identify it, it was gone.

"Hungry?" he asked, standing from the sofa to stretch.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am," she said. "I didn't think about it until you mentioned it."

"Well, that hasn't changed, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Getting you distracted from your work long enough for you to admit you were hungry was almost an act of God. You were totally single minded when you were working on some project."

"I don't know if I could be that driven now," she said.

"Don't sell yourself short, Samantha. I suspect whatever drives you is still there."

Samantha shrugged. Maybe he was right. She didn't have any other theories to work with at the moment.

"So, do I like anchovies on my pizza?" she asked.

"Hate them. Which is a good thing since you and I are sharing it. Daniel and Teal'c on the other hand can't get enough of the salty little buggers. Remind me too much of little Goa'ulds," he said, picking up the phone.

"Ghouls?"

"Uh, ya, 'cause they're so. . .creepy looking."

Samantha noted the strange look on Jack's face. He was lying to her about something. Okay, maybe not lying, who would lie about an anchovy? But he definitely tried to brush off his last comment. Maybe it was some kind of inside joke with them.

"Yeah," he said into the receiver, confirming his order. "And send a litre of diet whatever you got." Jack hung up the phone, turning to see Sam sitting on the floor before a video cabinet.

"You wanna watch a movie?" she asked. "I don't know what's in here, but we should be able to find something. Jack sat down next to her, their knees touching. The contact reminded her of looking at the photo album, how he'd lean over to point out a picture and his shoulder would brush hers. The contact was reassuring, yet it puzzled her. When she was in the infirmary, if someone came too close, she felt they were invading her personal space, making her feel like she needed to back away. Even Janet made her feel that way. But not Jack. She'd felt comforted by his nearness, and didn't question his little touches. Picking up her hand, touching her knee, brushing shoulders. They all felt right, somehow, not invasive.

Samantha returned her attention to the stacks of tapes. "Here's your trashy romances," she joked as many of the titles had romantic themes.

"Yeah, but you got science stuff in here too!" Jack whined. "Contact, Cosmos. Carl Sagan must have been a god to you!"

"Apparently."

"Now this is more like it," he said, pulling a tape out.

"Airplane? That have something to do with the military?"

Jack's face registered his shock. "You're kidding, right? Airplane is only *the* classic movie spoof of our time. Well, second only to Monty Python's Holy Grail."

Samantha couldn't help but grin at his excitement over the movie. "So this is good?"

"Carter, I've changed my mind about you. You *do* have taste!"

"I didn't know it was in doubt," she teased back. Samantha gracefully rose from the floor, while Jack extended his hand.

"Come on. Help and old guy up. That bum knee of mine is acting up again."

*So, it is from an old injury,* she thought. How could she have known that when she couldn't remember anything he'd showed her that day?

"Do you want to start this, or should we wait for the pizza?" she asked.

"Let's start. Who knows when the delivery kid will actually get here."

Samantha popped the tape in, bringing the remote with her as she settled on the couch next to Jack. "Ready?"

At his nod she pushed play, tossing the device on the coffee table, placing her feet next to it. Her head rested on the back of the sofa, and she almost wished Jack's arm was behind her so she could lean her head against it. Instead, his arms were at his side, hands folded in his lap, thumbs rotating around each other as if he were uncertain of what to do with his hands.

The movie started with the distinctive theme from "Jaws," and a tail fin of an airplane slicing through the clouds.

"I remember this now!" she cried, almost triumphantly. "First time I saw it in the theater I was laughing so hard I think I almost peed my pants! The guy I went with didn't have a clue. I'm sure he thought I'd lost my mind. Come to think of it, I don't think he called me again!"

Jack sat up, turning slightly to look at her. "I still don't get this. You can remember this movie--your date to see this movie--but you can't remember what you do for a living? I mean I've heard of selective amnesia, but ya gotta admit, this is really bizarre."

"I don't know what to tell you, Jack. If I knew the answers to that, don't you think I'd do something about it?" Her tone was sharp, almost confrontational as the buzzer to the outer door sounded, effectively ending their argument before it really got rolling.

"I'll get that," he said, as she paused the movie.

Samantha watched him pay for their dinner, suddenly feeling awful for having snapped at him. Here he was, trying to make her feel at home and she bitched at him. Some friend.

Clearing a spot on the table, Jack set the pizza down. "I'll get some plates."

Again he seemed to know her apartment better than she did as he retrieved plates, napkins, forks and a glass of ice for her soda. He grabbed himself another beer, then re-took his seat next to her.

"Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get angry. It's just that ever since I woke up, someone's been asking me why I can remember something's and not others, trying to find a pattern, I suppose. And I ask myself the same questions. I sure as hell would rather remember being an astrophysicist than a movie where June Cleaver can speak Jive! I'm just sorry I vented it on you, when all you've been is helpful and supportive."

"I'm sorry too," he said, pulling her into an embrace. "I guess I'm just used to you being the miracle worker. You're always the one assuring *us* things are going to work out. It's a little harder to put the shoe on the other foot. Especially when it fits you."

Samantha smiled against his shoulder, wishing she didn't have to leave the comfort of his arms as he pulled away from her.

Jack cleared his throat. "So, how 'bout some pizza, huh?" He dished up two pieces as Samantha started the movie again. Things are going to get easier, she told herself. This had to be the hardest day. Didn't it?

*********

Jack lay wide awake on the sofa. He'd dozed just long enough to make getting any real rest an impossibility. Samantha had left him a pile of blankets and two pillows, unsure how he liked to sleep. Well, he couldn't blame that on the amnesia. He'd never stayed at her house so she wouldn't have known. She'd stayed in his guest room--Charlie's old room--before, but he couldn't say he knew her sleeping habits either.

After they'd called a truce with the arrival of dinner, Jack found himself truly enjoying a movie he'd seen countless times. Samantha's infectious laughter and squeals of "I love this part!" kept him more entertained than what was on the TV screen.

She'd gone to bed soon after the tape had finished, leaving him on the lumpy couch to think about the day. Frustrations that even with visual aids, she couldn't remember her recent life. And the memory of how good she'd felt in his arms. That was the one image he kept trying to banish, and the one that insisted on returning. It was only a gesture of comfort, right? So why was he so embarrassed when he found his arms around her? Was it because he couldn't actually remember having initiated the hug? One minute she was apologizing and the next he had his arms around her.

He kept wishing he could find an excuse to put his arm along the back of the sofa so he could half-hold her. Maybe he should have tried the old "stretch and yawn" move from his high school dating years. He certainly was acting that age lately. Of course it hadn't helped matters when she didn't push him away or reprimand him with a sharp, "Sir! What do you think you're doing?" She wasn't acting very much like his second-in-command, but then again, he wasn't acting very much like her superior. And if you got right down to it, technically, since she was on medical leave, she wasn't his subordinate. At this point she wasn't even part of SG-1.

"Great," he mumbled to himself out loud. "Go ahead and make excuses for your inappropriate behavior. And when she's back on your team and the general notices there's a little more than CO and 2IC going on, you can tell him it was okay because she was out of her head." Trouble was, he felt like he was the one going out of his head.

And what was the big deal? It was a hug! Hell, he'd hugged Daniel and Teal'c enough times and didn't agonize over it. What was the difference in hugging Sam? Even he wasn't so naive to think he could pass that one off. It was the reason he'd gotten so defensive at Daniel's the other day. Because Danny voiced what he tried to deny. There was *something* between him and Sam. There had been, almost from day one.

Most times he could ignore it. Especially when they were off-world. His head was so full of mission details and over-all tenseness, Sam truly was just a member of his team. His concern for her didn't out-weigh that of Daniel or Teal'c.

But what about those times he let his guard down a bit? How they'd be camping on some alien world and he'd see her across the fire and admire the way the light reflected on her hair, or how she'd smile at him across the flames. Daniel said maybe it was a military thing. Yeah. Right. It was the most un-military thing there was.

Jack rolled over, punching his pillow. It was going to be a long night.

*********

Samantha's night had been punctuated by strange dreams. Perhaps it had been looking at the pictures and all the questions that stirred everything into one jumbled mess. She doubted she'd make much sense of it even if she knew what was truly her past and what wasn't. She was hoping once she were "home" some of the mysteries would be revealed, but that wasn't the case. If anything, it seemed to make things worse.

One of the recurring themes were flashes of her in various uniforms, most of the time she was carrying a gun. She wanted to drop it, but couldn't, as if it were glued to her hands. Then a man's voice behind her.

"Shoot, Sam! God! You'll never get over this gun thing if you don't pull the trigger!"

"I don't want too!" the plaintive voice of an older child wailed.

"Look, guns aren't a bad thing! They can protect you! Now aim at the damn can and shoot!"

"Guns kill people!" the child cried again.

"Sam, you're not killing anyone! You're just shooting a God-damned can!"

In her dream, the girl bit her lip, closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger of the pistol.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" the man asked her. "Next time, try it with your eyes open." his tone was one of disgust. She'd let him down. He expected her to fire the weapon without fear, and she'd disappointed him. The girl turned around, looking at the man who'd spoken the words to her. It was the same man Samantha had seen in the picture that afternoon. Her father.

There were other visions. She and Jack pinned down in a combat situation; running, helping some man to safety; explosions around her. But those couldn't be real, could they? She might be in the Air Force, but if she were a scientist, surely she didn't engage in actual fighting?

Samantha tossed and turned most of the night, getting very little sleep. It was almost a relief when she saw the sun rise. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she tried to find some order to the kaleidoscope of images she'd seen in her dreams. Suddenly Samantha looked up. Staring blankly at the wall before her, she had a revelation. A memory. She was older, at a shooting range practicing with a pistol. Hating every moment, but despite that fact, she was improving. She'd show him. Show him she could do this. And then he would love her.

"Oh, God," Samantha moaned, holding her head, falling forward over her knees. That's how she ended up in the Air Force. To show her father she had what it took. To uphold the family honor. She was a Carter, and by-God, Carters were tough. And if they weren't born that way, they were made. Had she really forcibly changed her nature to please her father?

Samantha stood up, padding into the bathroom almost in a trance. She turned the water on full blast, cranking up the temperature. She wanted to feel the heat and the pressure bearing down on her. Standing under the needling spray, she made a pact with herself. Sam might have changed herself to fit her father's image of who she should be, but Samantha didn't have to. She was through trying to remember being Sam. From this day forward she was going to stop trying to live some other woman's life. She was going to live her own. If that meant re-writing some if it, then so be it. Samantha rinsed the shampoo from her hair, watching the suds swirl down the drain, taking Sam with it.

Samantha felt liberated just having made the decision to move on. Even dressing was a new experience. No longer did she think, "is this something I liked?" She chose what *she* wanted. She looked for the most feminine casual clothes she--or rather Sam--owned. No more fatigues for this girl for awhile! The day promised to be warm, so she chose a sundress. It even had the tag still on it. Apparently Sam bought it but never wore it for some reason. Pulling the dress over her head, she fluffed her hair, applied a few cosmetics and inspected herself in the mirror. *Not bad, she thought.

Samantha stepped into the living room, noticing Jack sprawled on her couch. His lanky frame was far too long for the length of the sofa, and his legs extended over one of the arms. He lay, half on his side, with the blanket up to his shoulders. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. Even some of the constant frown lines seemed to have relaxed. His hair was a mess and Samantha resisted the urge to run her fingers though it, straightening it out.

Instead, she settled for getting some breakfast together, hoping she didn't disturb him as she rummaged around the kitchen. There certainly wasn't much in the way of food. Anything in the refrigerator would no longer be edible, so that left the freezer. Not much there either. Samantha sighed. Maybe if she could find her wallet, she might be able to offer to take Jack out for breakfast. Had she taken it with her to the base? Did Jack retrieve it with the rest of her personal belongings? She'd have to wait until he woke.

Maybe she should get him up, Samantha thought. It was early, but didn't soldiers get up at the crack of dawn? She was spared her dilemma when she heard Jack stifle a moan as he rolled over, attempting to sit up. He tried to smile at her, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Geeze, Carter. You gotta do something about this sofa. My back's killing me. I sleep better when we camp out!"

Still feeling exhilarated from her recent decisions, she decided to play with him a bit. "Maybe you should sleep in the bed," she suggested, strolling closer to him. Jack was speechless as he watched her cross the room.

"And I'll sleep out here." she added. Jack's grin was for real this time as he laughed at her offer.

"You've got a sick sense of humor," he teased her back. "I like that in a girl. Actually, I was wondering how you felt about moving this whole show back to my place."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, come stay at my place. My bed's a lot more comfortable," he said arching his eyebrows. Now it was Samantha's turn to be left without words.

"For me, of course. You get the spare bedroom."

"It's really a generous offer, Jack, but I don't need someone around all the time. I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself." "Hey, no one checks out of Jack's Day Care without my permission! I know you think it's silly, but the only way the Doc's going to let you stay off the base and out of the infirmary is if you're with someone. If you'd rather have Janet or someone else. . ."

"No! I mean it's not the company, really. I'm just tired of being a burden to all of you. Plus, I feel like everyone's waiting for me to have this big revelation or something and the pressure of it's starting to get to me."

Jack's face softened as he looked at her. "I know. And I'm sorry if I'm one of the ones putting pressure on you."

"It's not you. But I feel like I'm disappointing everyone, especially Janet. Like it's her fault I can't remember anything."

"You remembered 'Airplane' pretty well."

"Yeah, a lot of good that'll do me," she said, sitting on her coffee table before him. She propped her elbows on her knees, resting her chin on her palms. "I suppose I could make a living winning trivia contests or something."

Jack reached out an squeezed her shoulder. "I think we can do better than that. So. How about staying at my house?"

"You're sure you want me there? You're not just being polite? I promise I won't tell Janet you just dumped me to fend for myself," she teased.

"Yeah, Samantha. I really want you there. If nothing else so I can get a decent night's sleep!"

"Okay," she sighed, standing. "Oh, by the way. Do you have my purse or a wallet? I was going to fix breakfast, but it's looking a lot like Mother Hubbard's cupboard in there. I thought maybe I could take you out for all you've done for me?"

"Sounds good, but you really don't have to buy. I like doing things for my friends. You mind if I use your shower first?"

"Help yourself," she said, gesturing towards the bathroom. "And I'm buying. You got dinner."

"Arm wrestle you for it?" he smiled.

Samantha stopped dead. She'd heard that somewhere before. It had something to do with Jack, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Samantha?" Jack asked, waving a hand before her face. "You okay?"

She shook her head slightly to clear it, blinking several times. "Do we do that a lot?"

"Do what?"

"Arm wrestle."

"Uh, no. As a matter of fact, you owe me one. The day we met you threatened to arm wrestle me. It's kind of gotten to be a joke with us. Did you just remember something?"

"I'm. . .I'm not sure. It seems familiar. Kind of like deja vu. But then everything seems like that these days. Even the dream I had last night."

Jack grew excited. "You remembered something in your dream?"

"Well, I dreamt something, I don't know how accurate it was." Samantha quickly told him about her father trying to get her to use the gun, and how she hated them.

"Janet said one of the first things you told her was how you couldn't stand guns. But Samantha, you've been in the Air Force a long time. You've used a gun countless times. Especially recently. You've never said you didn't like them before."

"The feeling I got from the dream was I made myself learn to shoot, but I never got so I liked using a gun."

Jack shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose you could have talked yourself into using one. I just never got the impression they bothered you."

"Guess I'm pretty good at hiding what I really feel," she said, looking up at him.

"Guess we all are," he agreed, his eyes staring into hers. "I'm going to go take that shower now," he said, backing away from her, finally breaking eye contact.

*********

Jack pulled up in front of his house, watching Samantha to see if it seemed familiar to her.

"Looks nice," she said, smiling over at him. "The yard could use a little work though. How about I help you mow the grass since I'm the one who's been keeping you from your home?"

"That's not necessary, Samantha. I can get it done."

"Really, Jack, I want to help. I feel like I haven't done anything for weeks. Well, I guess I haven't. At least let me pull weeds or something."

"If you're sure. . . ."

"I'm positive. Show me where I can toss my stuff, let me change into some shorts and we'll get started."

Samantha climbed out of the car as Jack retrieved her bags from the trunk, shaking his head. Sam had never offered to help with yard work before, but then he supposed he'd never let it go this long. Maybe it wasn't so out of character that she volunteered to help.

The house felt cool as Jack opened the door, ushering Samantha in. She wandered down the short entryway, surveying his living room.

"Nice," she commented. "I like the fireplace."

"It's great in the winter," he commented, feeling a little proud that she liked his home.

"What's this way?" she asked, going down a short hallway. "Ah, the kitchen. Looks like you do more cooking than I do."

He was about to say Sara was the cook and he just hadn't removed the pots and pans, but she was already back in the living room, heading towards a short set of stairs leading to the bedrooms and bathroom.

"I'll show you the spare room," he said, leading the way. Samantha stood in the doorway as she watched Jack place her bags on the twin bed. The furnishings were generic, but there were still a few touches about the room that said a child once occupied it. Samantha picked up a model of a World War II aircraft, then placed it back on the shelf.

"My son, Charlie's," he said quietly. "I helped him put it together."

"I didn't know you had a son."

"'Had' being the operative word. He died." Jack sat on the bed, looking up at Samantha. The unasked question on her face. "Shot himself with my gun."

"Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry," Samantha said, her voice suddenly thick.

"Yeah, well, If I'd been a little more careful about guns in the house. . . ." Jack felt his throat tighten. How long would it be before he could talk about his son and not feel an over-powering rage at his own stupidity? He swiped at a tear that managed to escape and looked at Samantha again.

"You know, sometimes I envy you that you can't remember. I think I'd give anything if I could forget."

Samantha crouched down before him, taking his hands in hers. "Don't say that, Jack. You don't want to forget Charlie. It might take away some of the pain, but what about the good times? Would you want to forget them as well?"

"No," he admitted.

Samantha rose, still clutching Jack's hands, bringing him with her. When they were both standing, she wound her arms around him, hugging him close.

"Sometimes the pain lets us know we're still here. Still alive. Don't defile his memory by wishing you could forget him." Jack held her tightly, his head resting on her shoulder, fighting the urge to breakdown.

Jack heard Samantha sniffle and pulled back from her embrace. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I feel so bad for you, Jack. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you to lose him." He pulled her close again, running his fingers through her hair as he held her. God! What was he doing? This was Carter! It was just so easy to forget that fact when he needed and wanted the contact so much. Reluctantly, Jack pulled back again, smiling at her.

"Guess we better get to that lawn, huh?"

Samantha nodded, wiping away the moisture on her face.

"I'll let you get changed. Bathroom's the first door on the right. I've got my own, so go ahead and take over if you want."

"Thanks, Jack. I'll see you in a minute," she said, closing the door behind him.

He stood there for a moment, just staring at the door. Running a hand through his hair he let out a sigh. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to bring her here. They hadn't been in the door five minutes and he was all over her. Well, more precisely she was hugging him. But still. There was something about her being in his house that heightened the intimacy, even if she was in the room down the hall.

*********

Jack relaxed on the steps of his porch, a beer held loosely in his hand, surveying the fruits of his and Samantha's labors. The grass was mowed and trimmed, flower beds weeded and hoed. It looked like someone actually lived here again. The flower beds had been long-suffering. They'd been Sara's domain, and with her exit, Jack left them to tend to themselves. It wasn't a conscious symbolic gesture, but he realized today he'd let them overgrow as a way to prove he didn't care she'd walked out on him.

Samantha chastised him for their neglected state, but he said nothing. If she wanted to spruce them up, fine, but he still intended to ignore them. He had to admit she'd done a good job with the sagging perennials. They might even bloom this year.

Jack heard the screen door open and looked up to see a freshly showered Samantha. She was back in her sundress, smiling shyly at him. Damn, but she looked good, he thought. There was something about Sam in a dress that made it easy for him to forget she was a soldier. And it didn't help that she didn't remember being one. Or that she didn't remember being under his command.

"Want something to drink?" he offered.

"Gonna let me have a beer this time?"

Jack handed her the remainder of his, as she took a seat on the steps next to him.

"Hey! This bottle's half-empty!"

"Or half-full, depending on how you look at it," he smiled. "Just start slow, okay? You've been out in the sun all afternoon. It's probably going to hit pretty fast. Besides, Janet would probably have my hide for giving you alcohol."

"I guess it'll be our little secret," she smiled, taking a sip of the warming beer.

"You feel up to going out tonight?" he asked.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking maybe we could go over to Daniel's, see how he's doing?"

"Maybe see if I remember anything else about him or Teal'c?" she said, angrily clutching the neck of the beer bottle as if she were choking it.

"No, I just wanted to see how he was doing, and I know he's concerned about you as well."

Samantha relaxed her death grip on the beer. "I'm sorry, Jack. I guess I'm starting to sound paranoid. I feel like every suggestion has something to do with jogging my memory, and I feel like I'm letting everyone down when I keep drawing a blank."

"Well, I hate to tell you this, Samantha, but everything isn't about you." He wore a wide grin and he nudged her shoulder with his, letting her know he was teasing her. It had the desired effect. She smiled sheepishly,

"I guess that did sound pretty conceited, didn't it? Hey, you know what? I'd love to go visit your--our--friends tonight."

"Great! I'll give him a call and let him know we'll be over."

*********

Daniel struggled to stand when he heard his doorbell ring. Teal'c started to cross to the door, but Daniel waved him off.

"I got it, Teal'c." His left arm was still in a sling and would be for sometime, making it difficult for him to raise himself off the soft cushions. He was still a little woozy from the pain killers, but thankfully, he'd been able to slowly cut back on them. He didn't like the way they messed with his thought processes.

Daniel opened the door on the second ring. "Come in! Come in!" he cried, pulling Jack and Sam out of the doorway and into the now neatly organized apartment.

"Wow, Teal'c! I love what you've done with the place!" Jack crowed, causing Daniel to blush.

"Didn't know Jaffa moonlighted as maids, did you? So have a seat. Can I have my servant get you something?" Daniel's last comment earned him an arched eyebrow from Teal'c, but he said nothing.

"I'll take a beer if you've got one. And Samantha will have a soda, right?" he said, looking pointedly at her.

"Something diet would be great," she said, giving him back the stare.

Daniel noted the almost private exchange between them, wondering what had prompted the look from Sam. As they took a seat on his sofa, she seemed to sit quite close to him, almost as if she were apprehensive. Like he and Teal'c were strangers, and Jack was a reassuring presence.

"'Samantha?'" Daniel asked, eyebrows raised.

"She asked me to call her that," Jack shrugged, accepting his drink from Teal'c. "Guess 'Sam' isn't who she is now."

Daniel looked over at Sam, now Samantha. He was surprised she didn't speak up herself and tell him why she now preferred the long version of her name. It was odd to see her so subdued. She'd always had such a forceful personality, especially when they'd first met, when he was "rescued" from Abydos. This was definitely not the same woman who was nearly as fascinated by the cartouches as he was.

"How's your arm doing?" she asked, managing a small smile for Teal'c as he handed her a soda. It was obvious she was trying to make conversation, and it pained Daniel to see her consciously make an effort to fit into their group.

"It's doing much better," he said, hoping the smile he gave her was welcoming so she'd relax. "It'll still be a while before I can start physical therapy and Janet clears me to go back to work, but it gives me time to catch up on some of my studies."

Samantha looked at Jack. "I thought you said he was a civilian consultant. Why does an Air Force doctor have to clear him to work?"

Jack and Daniel exchanged looks before Daniel answered her question. "I am a civilian consultant, and I'm still technically connected to the military, so that's why Janet's taking care of my medical needs." That should be suitably vague, he thought. Samantha looked like she was about to make further inquiries when Jack said,

"Hey, Daniel, how about a game of chess? It's been awhile and I'm out of practice, so that might give you a fighting chance."

"Don't flatter yourself, Jack. You've lost to me as much as you've won."

"Care to make it interesting?"

"Loser buys dinner?" Daniel suggested.

"Deal. Get the board."

"I shall retrieve it," Teal'c announced.

"He's a handy guy to have around," Jack said, moving to sit at Daniel's kitchen table.

"Yeah, I'm going to miss ol' Jeeves when I'm doing better. Speaking of which, Janet said she tried calling Sam--Samantha--and said there was no answer. I told her you guys must have went out or something."

"Ah, yeah, we were. In fact, we'll be out for sometime."

Daniel gave him a quizzical look. "What are you talking about?"

"I moved her over to my place."

"You what?"

"Look, her sofa was killing me and she doesn't recognize anything in her apartment anyway. So, I figured, what the hell." He took a long drink of beer, gazing at Daniel as if waiting for the argument. Daniel didn't disappoint him.

"What happened to 'I can't look after her?' You've gone from CO to roommates in one day?"

"Daniel, it's nothing like that! It's no different than when you guys crash at my house. She's just doing it for a little longer, that's all. Besides, Janet's probably going to clear her to be on her own any day now."

"Sure, Jack. Whatever you say. Meanwhile, she's getting more and more dependent on you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I bet she didn't want to come over here tonight, did she?" Daniel said.

"Well, she did say she feels a little awkward around you guys, but it'll just take a little time for her to remember us as a team."

"She's never felt awkward around you," Daniel pointed out. "It's like you're the only one she trusts. Look at her. She's trying to talk to Teal'c, but she's not really comfortable."

Jack looked over to where Samantha was sitting on the sofa. "I've probably just been around more than you guys."

"All I'm saying is be careful. In the fragile state she's in she's likely to latch on to you, and I know the military frowns on that sort of thing."

"You're right," Jack sighed, setting up his chess pieces. "I guess Sam's not the only one with the selective memory."

Daniel saw the look of disappointment that crossed Jack's face as he watched Samantha and Teal'c. Maybe it wasn't Samantha doing the latching. Perhaps Jack was just as guilty of trying to hold on to her. He could understand Jack being protective--he was with all of them--but this was different. Jack liked being in the position of being needed, and right now Samantha needed him.

"So, you planin' on playing this game tonight, or what?" Jack said, bringing Daniel out of his musing.

Daniel moved a piece, earning him a low whistle from Jack. "You've been practicing, Danny Boy."

"Like Teal'c and I have anything else to do?"

*********

Jack tried to concentrate on the chess game, but found his thoughts centered on Daniel's observations. He was right, of course. He *was* getting too personal. But he couldn't just abandon Samantha either. Surely everyone realized these were extenuating circumstances. If Teal'c hadn't offered to look after Daniel, he would have volunteered for that duty as well. They were his team, his friends. He wasn't going to let them down when they needed him most. If he and Samantha were getting a little too chummy, they'd straighten it out later, when she wasn't so lost.

"Jack?" Daniel spoke, "it's your turn."

"Huh? Oh, sorry." Jack absentmindedly moved a piece forward.

"You sure you want to do that?"

"Yeah, why, you giving out second chances now?"

"Well, you seem a little distracted, and I didn't want to take advantage of you."

"Daniel, I assure you that's the move I wanted to make."

"I hope you brought a lot of cash to pay for dinner. Check mate." Jack looked at the board. It was such an obvious mistake even a novice would have noticed it.

"Okay, I guess I was thinking I should call Janet and let her know Samantha's all right."

"No excuses, isn't that what you're always telling me?" Daniel smiled.

"You're right." he said, tossing up his hands in resignation. "So, we gonna order in? I think since I'm buying I should get to choose."

"No more pizza," Daniel said.

"No Mexican," Teal'c added.

"Carter? You got any opinions?" Jack was surprised how easily he fell back on calling her by her last name when he was with the rest of the guys. He almost expected to hear her answer, "no, sir."

"Chinese?" she offered. He wasn't surprised; it was her usual choice. Maybe something's were coming back to her without her realizing it.

"Chinese work for you guys?" Daniel and Teal'c nodded. "That way when we're hungry in an hour, Daniel can spring for dessert."

"Cute, Jack," Daniel said, trying to look annoyed, but it was obvious he was glad they'd stopped by. If nothing else for a free dinner.

"Teal'c, toss me the phone," Jack said, catching the cordless handset when it was launched in his direction. Most people had their friends registered in their speed-dial. Daniel had take-out places. Pressing number six, Jack waited a moment before placing the standard order.

"It'll be about a half an hour," he announced. "You mind if I call Janet?"

Daniel absent mindedly shook his head as he wandered back towards Samantha and Teal'c.

There were several different tones on the phone before an automated voice requested he punch in the extension of the party he wished to contact. Jack pressed the keypad and waited a few more seconds before he heard,

"Dr. Janet Fraiser."

"Hi, Doc. It's Jack O'Neill."

"Where the hell have you been?" Janet's angry voice came over the line. "I've been trying to reach Sam all day!"

"It's okay, she's been with me. Just a little more touring around the city, seeing if anything jogs a memory." It was a bit of a stretch, but if he told Janet he'd had her doing yard work and drinking beer, he was sure she'd order him to return Samantha to the infirmary where she could be properly looked after.

"Any luck?" she asked, sounding a little calmer.

"She did mention something about a dream and why she hates guns, like she told you when she woke up, but other than that, nada."

"Where are you now?"

"We came to see how Daniel's doing. Do you want to talk to her?"

"Yes, and I want to talk to Daniel after that."

"Samantha, Janet would like to talk to you," he said, holding out the phone. Sam stood, taking the phone from him.

"Yes. Fine," she said, rolling her eyes at Jack. He didn't have to ask what that was all about. "No, really. No, he's not tiring me out. We're just hanging out with his. . .with Daniel and Teal'c. We're going to have dinner soon," she added, looking over at Jack shrugging her shoulders as if she didn't know what to say to the doctor.

"Yes. Okay. Uh, no. It's probably better if you try to get a hold of me at Jack's. Because the sofa was killing his back. It's only for a day or two, right? How much longer am I going to need a baby-sitter?" Samantha's voice was getting louder. "Okay. All right. Yes. I'll come in tomorrow. Bye."

Samantha handed the phone to Daniel who looked equally thrilled to have to answer Janet's questions.

"She give you a hard time?" Jack asked.

"I suppose she's just concerned, but Holy Hannah, she sure doesn't cut me much slack."

Jack looked up at her use of the expression. Did she realize it was a phrase she often used?

"She said she won't even consider letting me go home, by myself, until she sees me again. That's why I said tomorrow. No sense dragging this out."

"I suppose you're right. What time did she tell you to come in?"

"She didn't give me a time."

"Well, I should probably check-in with the general, too. 0800?"

"That's 8 a.m., right? Sounds good." Jack was about to make some comment about her forgetting military time when Daniel yelled,

"Hey, shouldn't you be going to get that food, LOSER?"

"You're eating last," Jack said, wagging his finger at Daniel. Fishing his car keys out of his pocket, he felt Samantha's hand on his arm.

"I'll go with you."

Jack felt a stab of guilt as he replied, "uh, why don't you stay here, get to know Danny and Teal'c better. I got this covered." He smiled and gave the hand resting on his arm a pat.

Samantha swallowed, her eyes growing large. "Sure. Good idea."

Jack felt his stomach twist at the look on her face. She looked almost terrified at the thought of being alone with them.

Jack lowered his voice, "it'll be okay, Samantha. They really are your friends."

She nodded, this time looking more confident. One thing hadn't changed--when she put her mind to something, she accomplished it.

"Be back in fifteen," Jack called, as he headed out the door. Daniel's voice barely reached him as he was heading down the stairs.

"Don't forget the fortune cookies!"

*********

Samantha closed the door after Jack, taking a deep breath. Okay. She could do this. It's not like Teal'c and Daniel hadn't been making an effort to make her feel welcome. In fact, it was painfully obvious they wished she'd relax and let them be her friend.

"You want to watch some TV?" Daniel offered.

Samantha was still standing next to the door, feeling like she didn't want to stray too far from the exit.

"No, not really," she said. Then she was struck by an idea. Jack tried to get her to remember her past by showing her pictures, maybe asking Daniel about any experiences they shared she'd feel closer to him. Looking at the album had certainly made her feel closer to Jack.

"Jack said I was some kind of scientist."

"Yeah, an astrophysicist, why?"

"Did we ever work on a project together? Maybe if you told me about it, it might spark some memory." Samantha could see he was trying to recall an instance, but every time he seemed to come up with something, he shook his head.

"We've worked on lots of projects, it's just this damn order of Hammond's. Anything I could tell you is considered classified."

"I understand," she said. Slowly walking away from the door towards the center of Daniel's loft apartment. She really liked the wide expanse of space, decorated with various cultural artifacts. It reminded her of what a back room at a museum might look like. Organized clutter and shelves loaded with exotic objects. She looked at Teal'c who was observing her. He wasn't staring, exactly. She'd probably appraised him in a similar fashion when she'd arrived with Jack.

Jack. God, what was taking him so long? She felt so. . .exposed with out him there.

"You're not from Egypt, are you," she found herself saying to Teal'c.

"I am not," Teal'c replied.

"Jack said you belonged to some obscure religious cult in Egypt."

Daniel exchanged a look with Teal'c. "My 'cult,' as you call it, has emulated Egyptian culture," Teal'c said. "Perhaps this is where O'Neill has gotten his impression from."

Samantha tried to hear the words Daniel was whispering into Teal'c's ear, catching only the word "classified."

"I see," he said to Daniel. The three of them ended up staring at each other, all at a loss for words.

"Maybe some television *would* be good," Samantha suggested. At least that way if they weren't talking it wouldn't be so noticeable. Daniel flipped through the channels as she took a seat next to him on the couch.

"Sports, more sports, cooking show, bad movie, sports," Daniel called out as the stations switched.

"Is that not the game O'Neill prefers?" Teal'c asked as a hockey game flashed on the screen.

"Yeah. I suppose we should leave that on. Jack's bound to know it's on and he'll make us watch it anyway."

"You don't like hockey?" Samantha asked.

"It's all right, I suppose. I just don't see the point of batting around a circle of rubber while on skates."

"About as much sense as moving small objects around on a board with squares," Teal'c interjected.

Samantha smiled as the men playfully argued over the merits of "intellectual" games as opposed to physical ones. She thought the hockey game looked rather interesting. Certainly more exciting than watching Jack and Daniel's chess match.

She was about to comment when they heard the sound of a boot kicking on the door. Samantha rose to answer it, to find Jack loaded down with bags of food. Taking the one out of his mouth first, she smiled when he thanked her.

"Guess I can't ask Daniel for a hand when he's only got the one. Thanks, Teal'c," he called out to the still-seated Jaffa. "Don't get up, we got this." Jack's sarcasm was completely lost on him, but Samantha grinned. There was something about Jack's humor she found endearing. It was one of his best qualities, she decided.

"Hey! I didn't know there was a game on today!" Jack said, dumping his bags on the table, promptly plopping himself next to Daniel. Samantha stared at the mess of bags on the table. Did they just expect her to do something about the food while the three of them sat mesmerized by the TV?

"Samantha, come watch the game. We'll take care of that when there's a commercial."

She took a seat next to Jack. There wasn't much room left on the sofa with the men sprawled out, so she wasn't surprised when Jack's arm draped over her shoulders as she settled back against the sofa. Actually, it felt good. She hated to admit how much more comfortable she was when he was in the room.

"You know anything about hockey?" he asked, eyes still glued to the screen.

"Not much. I know they're trying to get the puck into the goal, but that's about it."

Jack explained a few rudimentary rules in-between yelling at the television, at both the team he was rooting for and the opposing team. Every time he shouted at the screen, his hand squeezed involuntarily on her shoulder. It didn't hurt, but it was funny how she could tell an outburst was coming by the tension in his arm.

A commercial came on and Jack vaulted off the couch, heading for the food. "Daniel, you want me to get you something?"

"That'd be great, Jack," Daniel replied, his voice sounding sleepy.

"Daniel, are you feeling okay?" Samantha asked.

"I guess I'm a little tired," he admitted. I usually don't stay up this long at a stretch. This thing still takes a lot out of me," he said, nodding to his shoulder. "There's times I'd do anything for a sarcophagus."

"You remember what happened the last time you tried that," Jack warned.

"Yeah, I know," Daniel sighed.

"Sarcophagus?" Samantha asked. "As in the ancient Egyptian tomb thing?"

Daniel and Jack looked at each other, as if they'd said something they shouldn't have.

"Uh, yeah. It's a type of. . .painkiller Teal'c's people have, but it's highly addictive, so he doesn't use it anymore." Samantha noticed Jack's hesitation. Either he was lying again, or not telling her the whole truth.

"And it's called 'sarcophagus?'"

"Street name," Daniel added.

Samantha wasn't sure she bought their explanation. Maybe it was another one of those classified things they couldn't talk about. There sure seemed to be a lot of that going on around here.

"Ya know, Danny, maybe we should call it a night. You look beat. We can finish watching the game at my place."

"You just bought dinner. At least stay and eat something."

"We'll take it home. I can always nuke it when we get there. Janet's going to have my head as it is. I don't need to add you to my list."

"'Nuke it?'" Samantha asked.

"Yeah, microwave it," Jack slightly surprised she didn't recognize the term.

"But you guys just got here!" Daniel cried. "No offense, Teal'c, but it's nice to have someone else to talk to once in a while."

"None taken."

"I'll call you tomorrow," Jack promised. "Teal'c, make sure he lays down. And not on the couch," he added to Daniel.

"Who would have had you pegged for a mother hen?" Daniel said.

"That's Teal'c's area of expertise," Jack smiled, as he dished up Daniel and Teal'c's portions of food.

*********

Samantha had been quiet on the drive back from Daniel's. It wasn't a long trip, but even once in his house, Jack noticed she still hadn't said much.

"Samantha? Something wrong? You've been so quiet. Anything happen while I went to get dinner?" he asked, removing the wire bales from the paper take-out cartons.

"Hmm? Oh. No. I was just thinking. There's so much that you guys can't talk about with me. Not that you don't have anything else in common, but so much of your friendship seems tied to your work, I feel like I put a damper on your conversation when I'm around. Either you have to make up lame excuses or just skip over something I probably used to know."

Jack coughed. Well, he didn't really expect her to buy his explanations, did he? She might not remember having a Ph.D. in quantum mechanics, but that didn't mean she wasn't smart. In fact, she was probably quicker to pick things up now. She didn't have all that scientific stuff distracting her.

"It's not like that, Samantha. I suppose none of us know where we stand. It's kinda weird being best friends with someone and having to go back to square one. You forget how you became friends in the first place, so you're not sure where to start."

"And I feel like I should just be able to jump into being friends with you all again without the history. I don't know why I don't feel that when I'm with you, though. Technically I don't know any more about you and your life than I do theirs, so I can't explain why I feel more comfortable around you."

Samantha's honesty caught Jack off-guard. Not that he didn't suspect Carter felt that way by the rapport they had, but she would never come right out and admit something like that to him. Of course, he wouldn't either. It's probably why they had such a tendency to dance around each other. Neither could say how they really felt. But Samantha could. She had an innocence that reminded him of a child, but she was in no way naive. It was a strange combination.

"I'm glad your comfortable with me," Jack found himself confessing. Embarrassed, he turned back to heating their dinner. "Do me a favor? Turn the game on. At least I'll be able to hear it."

"Tell you what, you go watch it and I'll finish this."

"Thanks!" he cried. He should have just asked her if she minded getting it ready, but it seemed rather presumptuous when it was his house.

A few minutes later Samantha entered the living room with the cartons on a tray, along with plates and silverware.

"I hope you don't mind, I just dug around until I found stuff."

"No, no, fine," he mumbled, eyes glued to the TV set. "Oh, man! He should have had that one! That ref's an ass. . .jerk!" he amended, looking sheepishly at her.

"Hey, you aren't going to offend me," Samantha said, ladling stir-fry on top of her rice. Taking a seat on the floor in front of the sofa, she watched the replay and got nearly as excited as Jack. "That shot was in! You're right! The ref's an asshole! Can't they reverse his decision?"

"Not after he made the call," he said, helping himself to the remainder of the food, settling back on the couch.

"Jack, it's early summer. Why is hockey still on?"

"It's the end of the season. This game's like 'battle of the losers' or something."

Samantha laughed. "Then how come your watching it?"

"Hey, it's hockey! I'd watch it even if it was a bunch of old ladies and they were on skates and got into fights!"

"Oh, so *that's* what the big attraction is. You're not into all that wrestling stuff too, are you?" Samantha asked, cringing.

"Naw. All that's staged. If I'm going to see a fight, I want it to be over something that matters."

"Like a little hunk of rubber," she smiled.

"Exactly. Oh! It's back on again!" Jack turned up the volume as Samantha settled back against the base of the sofa. She let him watch the game with only a question here and there. If she would have said something, he probably wouldn't have heard it anyway. When there was a game on, it seemed he wouldn't have noticed a nuclear blast.

The game ended and he forced himself not to toss his plate on the table before him in his anger over the score. Samantha was sitting close to where his legs rested on the floor. She reached over and rubbed his shin.

"I'm sorry they lost. If it hadn't been for that bad call earlier, they would have won." She took his plate before he could throw it. Maybe she was a mind reader now.

"Thanks for getting this ready," Jack said, waving at the scattered cartons. Without thinking, he rested his hand on her head, threading his fingers through her hair, massaging gently. After a few seconds Samantha's head dropped back, eyes closed.

"That feels good," she mumbled. Suddenly Jack realized what his hand was doing and he jerked it back. What the hell was he doing? He quickly stood, picking up the mess on the table before him. He could feel Samantha's eyes on him, questioning.

"Let me help you," she offered.

"That's okay. I got it," he said a little harshly, turning to retreat into the kitchen. God, he hoped she didn't follow him. He needed a minute to himself. Jack dumped the containers in the trash, setting the tray and plates by the sink. Leaning against the counter, he rubbed his hands over his face.

What was he thinking? It just seemed so natural to touch her, he didn't realize he was doing it until his hand was buried in her hair. It felt good. He imagined his hand snaking further down the back of her head, caressing her neck, and onto her shoulders. And when she leaned her head back. . . . Damn it! Daniel was right. This was a dangerous situation! This was Carter, for Christ's sake! If she knew who she was would he be acting this way? He couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but he sure as hell wouldn't have acted on it!

"Okay, O'Neill," he said to himself, running a hand through his short hair, "get a grip. You're not sixteen, even if you've been acting like it. This is Carter, your second-in-command. Off-limits. No thoughts, and no more touching. Got it?" Jack sighed. "Yeah, right."

"Jack?" he heard her call from the other room. "I'm pretty beat. I think I'm going to turn in; we've got an early morning tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow," he called back. He was too chicken even to go in to wish her a good night.

*********

Samantha washed her face, brushed her teeth and walked quickly to the room she now occupied. She didn't want to run into Jack in the hallway. Apparently he didn't care to meet her either, as he still hadn't emerged from the kitchen.

What the hell happened at the end of the game? All he did was rub her head a little. What was so terrible about that? He sure seemed bugged by it, though. And it had felt so good. It had sent tingles down her spine. What would it have been like if his hand slipped lower? Jack had told her he was her commanding officer, did that have something to do with it? She supposed it probably was against some rule for people working together in the military to be involved, but it was just a pat on the head! Okay, so it didn't exactly feel platonic, but maybe that's the way he meant it and she'd just mis-interpreted it. But if that was the case, why was Jack so embarrassed? Why would he hide out in the kitchen until she'd left the room? That was the real reason she told him she was going to bed. So he wouldn't have to spend the rest of the night in the kitchen trying to decide how to gracefully re-enter the living room. Maybe things would blow over by morning and they wouldn't feel so awkward around each other. She hoped so. It'd only been about a half an hour and she already missed him.

Samantha sighed, sliding in-between the cool, crisp sheets. With the jumbled state her thoughts were in, she had a feeling she wasn't going to get much sleep.

*********

Samantha sat on the hospital bed as Janet examined her. Had it really only been two days since she'd been here? It felt as though a lifetime had passed. In some respects it had. She'd certainly been bombarded with enough information that it felt like years.

The morning was spent as normally as she could have expected. Jack was back to his "old self," if she could claim to know what that was after being acquainted with him for such a short amount of time. It was if the episode in the living room hadn't happened. In some ways she was a little disappointed he could turn his feelings on and off so easily, but then again it was nice to have things back on an even keel again. They'd even had quite an animated conversation in the car about how a person could like opera and Guns N' Roses in equal measure.

Thinking of Jack, Samantha wondered how his meeting with General Hammond was going. He said he'd pick her up in the infirmary when they were through. Obviously, the meeting was taking longer than he'd planned.

"All done," Janet announced. "Medically, everything looks good, Sam. Colonel O'Neill mentioned something about a dream, though?"

Samantha faltered, she wasn't sure how to explain it. "I'm not sure it was a dream. It was like a dream in that it was disconnected. But I was having an argument with a man about shooting a gun, and when I turned around, it was the same man that was in a picture Jack had shown me. So, I'm assuming it was my father. I just had a feeling I was letting him down somehow by not using the gun."

"And what about the pictures? Did they help at all?"

"Not really," Samantha said. "Jack told me stories behind the pictures. Frankly, if I hadn't seen myself in the pictures, I don't know that I would have believed him."

"Well, your team *is* a bit unorthodox, but you get the job done, and I guess that's what counts."

"I mean more about the part of me being in the military. It's just so odd that I can look at those pictures, see it's the person I see in the mirror, but it's like I have no connection to her. That's why I've started to go by 'Samantha.' I just don't feel like a 'Sam.'"

Janet sighed. "I really wish you could remember something. For two reasons, actually. The first is the obvious reason. The second is I don't think you should be alone if you have another spontaneous remembrance."

"Why should that make a difference?"

"Well, you could experience anything from a headache like you had the other day to possibly slipping into a coma again."

Samantha laughed. "Janet, you can't be serious? Fall back into a coma because I remembered something?"

"Samantha, to be honest, I don't know what could happen. You never should have been in a coma in the first place. You've only been out of here for two days. I don't want you to be alone."

"Janet, I can't ask Jack to take care of me anymore. He's got a life to lead."

"You could stay with Cassandra and me," she offered. Samantha froze at the suggestion. She felt slightly more comfortable with Janet than she had with Daniel and Teal'c, but she couldn't imagine staying at the woman's house. So why hadn't she balked at the idea when Jack had suggested his place? She hated to admit it, but it felt more "right" to be at his house than her own apartment.

"That's really kind of you Janet, but. . . ."

"But she's got a place to stay," Jack finished for her, crossing into the infirmary.

Samantha looked up, smiling with relief that he'd rescued her from having to make up an excuse.

"Colonel, won't you be returning to active duty soon?" Janet asked.

"That's what my little chat with the general was about. He wants Teal'c and me back, but when I pointed out how much Daniel and Samantha needed our help, he relented. Besides, I'm due some leave time as well. She can stay with me as long as she needs."

Samantha and Janet were both about to argue with him when he held up his hands. "End of discussion, ladies. Now, is Samantha free to go?"

"I don't see why not," Janet said. But if either of you have any questions, promise you'll call me?

"Ya gotta deal, Doc." Jack held his hand out to help Samantha off the bed. "Shall we?"

*********

Jack escorted Samantha to the elevators, his hand almost protective on the small of her back. He'd had a bit of a run-in with the general when he requested the extra time off. Since Teal'c was technically a civilian, Hammond didn't have a problem with him taking time out to help Daniel. He, however, was a different story. Hammond reminded Jack how he was second-in-command at SGC and although he empathized with Captain Carter's predicament, he couldn't see his way clear to authorizing more downtime for the Colonel to sit at home and "hold her hand."

Jack knew the general was right--anyone could keep an eye on Samantha--but Hammond didn't understand the situation as he did. He hadn't seen how scared she'd been to be left with Daniel and Teal'c, two of her best friends. How would she react to a stranger? Using his personal leave was a last resort. Not that she wasn't worth spending it on, but it didn't do much to curry favor with the general. Next time Hammond wasn't likely to be so lenient with him.

Jack's thoughts were interrupted by Samantha's voice as he opened her car door for her. "I just wanted to thank you for getting me out of the situation with Janet. I don't know if I could have stayed at a virtual stranger's house. Well, I guess I am," she smiled shyly.

"Samantha! You wound me!" Jack teased, putting his hand to his heart. "I thought we were beyond all that."

"I guess we are," she said, blowing out a breath. "I just wish I knew why everything feels right when you're around."

Jack wasn't used to Sam being so forthright with her feelings. It didn't scare him, exactly, but it did make him a little uncomfortable when he felt he couldn't be as up-front as she was.

"The others will start to feel right too," he said, squeezing her hand before reaching for the shift. He watched Samantha settle into her seat, contented smile on her face. He was a little surprised by the simple beauty of it. It wasn't that Sam didn't smile. She did. A lot. But there was always so much on her mind, it was rare to see her just enjoying the day.

Occasionally, he'd seen her lost in the beauty of a foreign world, but as soon as she realized someone was watching her, she closed down again. Samantha didn't do that, she now had a life free of regret and guilt. It was as if she'd been given a second chance. Granted, she'd traded her memories for that chance. He did envy that, though, no matter what she said. To have even one day without the guilt would be heaven.

"Jack, did you always want to be in the military?" Samantha asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Uh, it wasn't my first choice," he said, smiling at the memory. "I'd gotten into some trouble and my options were pretty slim. Join the military or go to jail. At the time there didn't seem to be much difference. I realize now that I made the right call. I can't imagine what my life would have been had I chosen the other path."

"I know how you feel. Not about the military thing, but about choosing a path. I feel as if I'm at a cross-roads. I'm not sure where to go, and yet I feel I can't go back."

"I'm not sure I follow you."

"It's pretty obvious I'm not cut out for the Air Force," she said with a smile. "I don't remember any of my training, and I'm sure as hell not going to go through it again. Can you see me in boot camp?"

Jack had to smile at the notion. Carter, he wouldn't have had any doubt about, but Samantha? She wouldn't last a week.

"No, I guess I can't."

"So, there you go. I can't see going back to school to become a scientist either. So I'm going to have to look elsewhere. Didn't I have any other interests? Knitting? Dog sitting? Hamster farming?"

Jack laughed at Samantha grasping at career straws. "No, you had pretty much a one track mind."

"Too bad. I can think of one more track I should have thought more about," she smiled at him.

Was she flirting with him? She was! Jack did a bit of a double-take as she turned from him, closing her eyes to the sunshine flowing through the car window. She still had a small smile on her face. How did he respond to something like that? He decided ignoring it was the best course of action at this point. Damn, it was hard to remember this was Carter when she acted like this!

"You know, you don't have to decide anything today," he said, hoping they were back on neutral ground.

Samantha seemed to realize he was trying to stay on their original topic. "You're right. Not something I have to know by tomorrow."

The mood in the car had changed and Jack didn't know how to lighten things up without making some joke. Why couldn't he tell her this was hard for him as well? To see his once confident friend and comrade at loose ends? Or to admit, especially lately, he'd added another track to his thoughts.

*********

During the next week or so, Jack acted as a guide for Samantha, taking her all around Colorado Springs. It felt odd seeing a city he'd lived in for so many years through the eyes of a tourist, but he'd had a great time. It wasn't visiting a new planet, but it was still discovering new things with Samantha. They'd gone to dinner, movies, even drove to Denver one night to see a play. Jack had always been under the assumption he'd be bored with a "normal" life. His short-lived retirement certainly had proven that. But then, he'd basically been alone. With his estrangement from Sara, he had no one to share his thoughts with as he now did Samantha.

He'd shown her his telescope, pointing out things that went un-noticed to the naked eye. She'd gotten really excited by what she'd seen and had taken to reading everything she could find on Jack's book shelves about astronomy. He teased her about not being able to take the "science" out of the "scientist," but she ignored his jokes. They spent hours on his roof, Samantha peppering him with questions. Many he couldn't answer, but he loved to watch her, seeing her so animated. Her enthusiasm reminded him of Daniel and his "rocks." There were times she was like the Sam he used to know. Still, there was side of her he was finding himself more and more attracted to. The side that didn't remember the Air Force. The side that didn't know it was considered wrong for her to look at him the way she did sometimes. And he found himself wanting to forget as well.

A soft breeze would blow her short blonde hair, catching the light of the moon, and all he wanted to do was run his fingers through it, pull her close, kiss those tempting lips. . . . But he couldn't. Nothing had been decided about her position at the SGC or in the Air Force. It would be wrong to act on what he felt they both wanted when it might be taken away the next day.

*********

Jack woke to find Samantha sitting on his porch, watching the sunrise, mug of coffee in her hands.

"Morning," he said with a yawn, opening the door and joining her. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Watching the sun rise. It's beautiful," she sighed, reaching up to take his hand and pull him down next to her. Their shoulders touched as they sat on the steps in silence, watching the sky change color.

"Want some coffee?" she asked offering him her cup.

He took the mug from her hands, taking a large sip before handing it back. "So, how come you're up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep. Too much stuff in here," she smiled, tapping her head. Samantha looked at the fully-risen sun. "Ever wonder what it would look like if the sun was a red giant, or what a sunrise on a planet with a binary star system would be like?"

Jack's head whipped around to look at her. Had she remembered going to PR9-263 a few weeks ago? It had been a binary system Sam had been totally fascinated with.

"What?" she asked, taking another drink from her mug, eyeing him curiously.

"Yeah, I guess I have," he said, trying to sound like he'd had the same thoughts and hadn't actually witnessed it.

"Well, I just bet it would be spectacular, that's all."

"I bet it would," he said, still waiting to see if she added anything to her statement, but Samantha was off on another tangent.

"How about we invite Daniel, Teal'c, Janet and Cassie over tonight," she suggested. "I mean, maybe you could. It is you house. I didn't mean to be presumptuous."

"You really want them to come over?"

"Yeah. I think I do. It's time I made some new/old friends."

Jack's face lit up. "I'm glad you want them to come over. They keep asking about you."

Samantha looked him squarely in the eye. "I can't stay here forever, Jack. I need to get back to having some kind of life. Friends are the first step."

Jack's enthusiasm waned a bit. She hadn't been in his home that long, but already she seemed to be a fixture. Samantha was right of course, but he was really going to miss her if Janet cleared her to be on her own.

"Is that okay, Jack?" she asked, touching his arm to get his attention.

"Yeah. Yeah! It's great! I'll set it up."

"Thanks, Jack. I don't know what I'd do without you," Samantha said, giving him a peck on the cheek. She rose quickly, moving into the house before either of them had a chance to get embarrassed by her impulsiveness.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do without you either," he mumbled to himself.

********

Samantha was doing her best to have a good time at the party. She knew the happier and independent she seemed, the sooner Janet would release her into her own custody. Not that staying with Jack had been a hardship. Quite the opposite, actually. That was the problem. She was getting a little *too* comfortable in his house. The only time she went to her apartment was to water her plants, and Jack drove her. He had no life, no time by himself. Surely he was getting tired of her constantly being around. She'd taken to letting him go up on the roof to use his telescope by himself just so he had some time alone. That is until he asked her if she'd lost interest, since she didn't come up with him. She tried to explain she was "giving him his space," but he said she'd know when he wanted it. So, they were back to being joined at the hip. She just hoped his friends didn't bug him about it. She'd seen how defensive he'd gotten at Daniel's when he suggested she and Jack were spending so much time together.

Samantha was surveying the room when Cassandra came up to her. "Hi, Sam. Oops. Sorry, Mom said you like to be called 'Samantha' now."

"It's okay," Samantha smiled. "Either one is fine. So, how's the party so far?"

"Seriously? Kind of boring. You know, all they talk about is adult junk. Usually something to do with work."

"Well, that's the thing they have the most in common."

"Yeah, but you don't talk about work. At least not anymore. Mom says you don't remember who you are." Cassie was blunt, but Samantha found it oddly refreshing.

"No, I don't. In a lot of ways I'm like you, I still have to figure out what I'm going to do and where I belong."

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

Samantha couldn't help the surprised laugh that escaped her.

"Sorry," Cassie said. "Colonel Jack says that a lot. Mom doesn't like it when I say it."

"Colonel Jack's nice, huh?" Samantha said, looking up to see Jack's gaze resting on her as she talked with Cassandra.

"Yeah. I wish I saw him more. Well, all of you guys actually. But I know you're busy."

"I'm not that busy. How about we go to the park, say, on Sunday?"

"Really! That'd be cool! Mom's so busy she hardly has time to sleep these days. Course I don't know what she was like before I came to live with her."

Samantha gave Cassie a quizzical look. "Before you came to live with her?"

"You know, you're the one who found me on Hanka. Oh, I suppose that's one of the things you don't remember, huh? You found me on Hanka and brought me here and. . ."

"Cassandra!" Janet's voice rang out across the room, causing her to jump. Janet was making a bee-line for the girl who only looked confused.

"Cassie, honey, why don't you go see what Daniel is up to?"

"But, Mom! I was talking to Sam!"

"I know, sweetie. You can talk to her later. I need to talk to her right now."

Janet turned to Samantha, smiling. "Kids, huh? She telling more of her tall tales?"

"She said I was the one who found her *on* Hanka. I'm assuming Hanka's a town somewhere. So how come she didn't say *in?* Hanka?"

"She probably just got confused. So, Samantha. I haven't had a chance to talk to you all night. How are things going?"

Samantha knew Janet was trying to change the subject by the way she hustled Cassie off. Must be more of their top-secret stuff, but how would a child be involved in all that? Samantha refocused her attention on Janet's conversation, hoping something would begin to make sense.

***

Samantha spent the night circulating from one person to the next, trying to find some common ground with each of them. At the end of the evening, she found the only one she truly could relate to was Cassandra, and she was the person with whom she'd had the least contact in the past. She didn't really feel depressed at the way things turned out, but she was a little disappointed. And she felt like she'd disappointed Jack as well. He so wanted her to remember these people who were such a part of his life. Every time she felt him looking at her, she flashed him a brilliant smile, hoping he'd think she was having a good time, so he'd relax and enjoy himself.

It must have worked, because he was jabbering to her a mile a minute as they cleaned up empty soda and beer bottles, as well as the remains from several bowls of chips. Something about what he and Daniel had been discussing

"This really was a great idea, Samantha. I think it was good for Daniel to get out for awhile too. And I'm glad you finally had a chance to meet Cassie."

"Yeah," she agreed. "She's a great kid."

"Smart too. She's got a great sense of humor."

"She idolizes you, you know," Samantha said.

"Well, probably because she doesn't have a dad."

"I think she's got a crush on you," Samantha smiled.

"Jealous?"

"Maybe," she teased back. At that Samantha looked up at Jack, not sure what emotion was registering on his face.

"I was kidding," she said, resuming her clean-up efforts, but the tension seemed to remain. Did he want her to be jealous?

Samantha tried to get past him to get the vacuum, but he took her by the arms, holding her at bay.

"Leave the rest. I'll get it in the morning. Why don't you get some sleep. You look tired."

"Well, now that you mention it, I am a little sleepy. You sure you don't mind leaving this mess until morning?"

"If you weren't here, I'd leave it 'till the next party," he grinned. He leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead. "'Night, Samantha."

Samantha froze as he neared her. Oh, how she wished it wasn't such a platonic kiss! It'd been a rough night trying to pretend she was getting to know "the gang" better. What she really could have used was a hug. But she couldn't tell him that.

She gave him a weak smile. "You have a good night too." Slowly she backed away from the hands holding her, retreating to her room.

***

As tired as she as she was, sleep seemed to allude her. She tossed and turned so much, her blankets were in a ball at the end of the bed.

"This is ridiculous," she sighed, getting up. Maybe some warm milk would help. "or a beer," she added.

Jack had long since gone to bed and was no doubt out like a light. For a guy who was supposedly "combat ready," he sure slept soundly. Since he was down for the count, Samantha didn't feel the need to put on a robe over her nightgown. It was hot enough without an extra layer.

Padding to the refrigerator, Samantha eyed the milk and the beer. She knew in her already melancholy state the beer probably wasn't the best choice, but she took it anyway. She walked back into the living room, setting the bottle on the table, using a magazine as a coaster.

She felt like crying. For the first time since she woke up in the infirmary, she really missed being Sam. She *wanted* to be a part of the group that gathered here. She wanted to laugh with them about some silly exploit they'd all shared in. She wanted to be able to answer Daniel's questions if she believed in the theory of an expanding universe. She wanted to remember being Jack's second-in-command, to know what that level of trust felt like. And most of all, she wanted them to not have to walk on egg shells around her because something about their work might slip out.

Samantha pulled her legs up, hugging her knees to her chest. She lay her head on her knees as the tears silently fell. Suddenly, the harsh glare of the overhead light assailed her.

"Sam? It's three a.m.! What are you doing up?"

She quickly tried to hide the fact she'd been crying. "Would you mind turning the light off? It's hurting my eyes."

The light snapped off as Jack entered the living room. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she swallowed. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd come out here for awhile."

"And have a beer?"

"Well, I had to be such a good girl with Dr. Frasier in the room," she tried to joke.

"Come on, Samantha. You never get up in the middle of the night. Especially to sneak a beer. What's up?"

Samantha cleared her throat. "I told you. I just couldn't sleep. I thought maybe a beer would make me drowsy."

"All out of milk, huh? Damn. I hate it when I have to eat corn flakes with beer."

Samantha made an attempt at smiling. "There's plenty of milk and you know it."

Jack sat down on the sofa next to her. He was dressed in just a pair of sweat shorts, and she couldn't keep her eyes from straying to his chest. The residual light from the street was almost reflecting off him.

"You've been crying, haven't you?"

"No, not really."

"Samantha. . . ." he warned.

"Okay," she sighed. "I guess I was feeling a little sorry for myself, so I came out here to cry in my beer," she tried to laugh, but it came out a rather choked.

"C'mere," he said, pulling her into his arms. "You know it's not so terrible to admit you feel upset. Hell, I was beginning to wonder if you cared at all you couldn't remember who you were."

His words caused her cry again. "Shhh. It's okay. Just let it out." he mumbled other words that made little or no sense, but she didn't care. The feel of his fingers in her hair and the vibration in his chest as he spoke were comforting, reassuring.

"I tried so hard to get on with my life," she sniffed. I wanted to prove to myself being Sam Carter wasn't everything. That I could have a life without remembering her. But I can't seem to. Everyone's in limbo, waiting for me to wake up and take my place again. I realized tonight how much everyone misses her, and I found I was missing her too."

"We miss her for your sake," Jack spoke, lips pressed into her hair. "It's not like we don't care about the person you are now--we do--but we feel bad for all you've lost."

Samantha stopped crying, but Jack held her still. She didn't want to move for fear he'd let go of her and she'd have to apologize for getting too personal. Instead his arms seemed to tighten, almost as if he were afraid she was going to try to break the contact. His hands continued to run absently though her hair, and she felt him place a kiss on her temple. He moved slightly, kissing her ear. Taking her hand, she wiped the spent tears from his chest, placing a soft kiss where her hand had just been.

Samantha felt his breath catch and knew he was feeling the same desire that was spreading though her. She turned her head to look into his eyes. He was staring at her, almost questioning before he moved closer to kiss her on the mouth. It started out light, reassuring, but when she opened her mouth beneath his, it quickly turned heated.

"Samantha," he moaned into her mouth, their tongues beginning a slow dance, "this probably isn't a good idea," he managed before she claimed his mouth again.

"You're right," she spoke against his lips. "You want to stop?"

"No," he said, moving his lips to her shoulder. "You?"

"No," she replied, pulling his head back up to her mouth. Samantha's hands roamed his shoulders and chest, meeting at his spine, tracing the dip in his back. She wasn't sure if he pushed her back onto the sofa or if she lay down, brining him with her. She was only aware of pulling him closer, wrapping herself around him.

This probably *was* stupid, she told herself, but she didn't care. She'd felt an attraction to him from the moment she'd seen him. Samantha didn't want to admit it at the time, but she'd been disappointed when Janet told her he wasn't her husband.

Jack was depositing light kisses on the exposed column of her throat, causing her to groan. His hands pushed the spaghetti straps of her nightgown over, as he trailed his lips and tongue over her collar bone.

"Jack. . . ." she sighed.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, kissing the valley between her breasts.

"God, no!" She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. "Make love to me."

Jack pulled back, looking into her eyes, as if seeking confirmation.

"Don't make me beg," she smiled. "It'll ruin the moment."

Jack kissed her again as he picked her up, carrying her to his bedroom. Somewhere along the way, they managed to shed their scant clothing, allowing it to fall haphazardly to the floor.

*********

Slowly, Jack began drifting back to consciousness. He'd had the most erotic dream about a woman.

"Sara. . . ." he mumbled. Suddenly his eyes popped open, knowing it was the wrong name. He felt a body stiffen beside him, then a cool rush of air as the covers were dragged off him. Samantha was wrapping the sheet around her body, struggling to get out of the bed.

"Samantha!" Jack cried, trying to grab her around the waist to prevent her leaving. He missed, but she didn't go. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, ready to flee.

"Samantha, I'm sorry," he said, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Who is she, Jack?" Samantha's voice was cold, hurt.

"My wife. My *ex* wife," he quickly amended.

"Apparently she's not as 'ex' as you think." Samantha moved further away from him as he lay his hand on her bare back. "Please don't touch me."

"It was a mistake! I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, it was a mistake all right," she said. Somehow he didn't think she was referring strictly to his calling her by the wrong name. At least she was still in the room. That was one good thing.

"Samantha," he said quietly. "Ya gotta understand. I haven't. . . I mean there hasn't been anyone since Sara. And we were married for a long time. It doesn't help that you bear a similar physical resemblance to her. . . "

"So that's what this was about? Close your eyes and it could be like it was with your wife?" Samantha was off the bed now, wrapping the sheet tighter around her body. He felt naked in more ways than one.

"That's not what I meant!" he cried, trying to get off the bed. "Samantha, listen to me! I only meant I was confused for a moment!"

Her back was to him, her voice so low he had to strain to hear it. "I thought there was something special between us, Jack. I thought I felt something the minute you picked up my hand in the infirmary. I guess I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong, Samantha," he said, taking her by the shoulders turning her around to face him. "I suppose it's like Daniel said. There's always been something between us, but we never acted on it out of professionalism. I'm still not sure this is fair to you. . .to either of us should you resume your career in the Air Force. Last night, I just couldn't fight it any more."

Samantha looked up at him and he hoped it was forgiveness he saw in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jack. I guess I over-reacted a little. This is new for me, in so many respects. I suppose I was a little nervous about how you were going to react waking up with me in your bed. It wasn't exactly the scenario I'd worked out."

"Oh?" he smiled. "And what did you have in mind?"

"Well, it didn't involve a fight."

"I'm a little cold here," Jack said, "Think we could share that sheet?"

Samantha grinned as she unwound the cotton material from her body, wrapping it around him instead. "You are cold!" she exclaimed as he pulled her close.

"Care to warm me up?"

She slid her arms around his neck, dragging his head down for a long kiss.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

"Yes."

"This a little more what you had in mind for when we woke up?" he teased.

"Yeah, but I had the impression we'd be horizontal when it actually happened," she smiled against his lips, kissing him again.

"That can be arranged," he said, dragging them back towards the bed, falling with her when his calves contacted the bedframe.

"Much better," she sighed, lightly biting his neck.

*********

Jack lost count the actual number of times they'd made love that morning. It was past noon, so it had to be in the hundreds, didn't it?

*Yeah, right, old man. Dream on!* he smiled to himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed in bed so late, but he wasn't complaining. Samantha was dozing, draped across his chest while his arm encircled her shoulders. She had great shoulders. He should know, he'd bitten them often enough in the past few hours. Now he settled for running his fingers over them, lightly tracing patterns on her smooth, if now slightly red skin.

God, it felt good to hold her like this, he thought. He'd wanted to for so long now. When, exactly, had he begun to think of her as more than his Captain? He couldn't put a finger on it, but if he were truthful with himself, it was before the accident on P6J-847. The trouble was, Samantha didn't remember being his Captain, and her guilelessness didn't help matters. She was so open and honest it was hard to resist the pull he'd nearly always felt towards her.

He'd only meant to see why she was crying. He'd had no preconceived notions about taking her to his bed. And then to wake up with Sara's name on his lips. He understood why she'd been hurt. If she'd called him by another man's name he would have been devastated. For so long he'd thought of her as his, he couldn't imagine her with another man. It'd kill him.

Jack rubbed his stubbly cheek against Samantha's hair. "Wake up, sleepy head. I'm starving and this time you're not on the menu."

He felt her smile against his chest. "Good thing, too. I really need to go to the bathroom." Samantha shifted so she was propped up on her elbows, looking into his eyes. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure. After noon, though. I heard the clock in the living room at least a half an hour ago."

"I guess this means we should get up, huh?"

"I'll make you breakfast," he bribed.

"Really? I was under the impression the only thing you knew how to make was reservations."

Jack grabbed her, rolling her over so she was pinned beneath him as he began to tickle her mercilessly.

"Oh, you're going to pay for that!"

"Only if they give me the bill," she laughed at him.

Jack dug his fingers into her ribs, producing several squeals he never heard from her before.

"Jack! St. . .stop it! Pl. . .please! I can't breathe!"

He leaned over and kissed her, stealing the last of her breath. "Okay, I'll stop. But only because I don't want you to have an accident in my bed!"

Samantha jumped off the bed, once again stealing the sheet from him. "Just remember pay backs are a bitch!"

He watched her practically run for the bathroom. "Oh, I hope so!"

On to Part 3

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