Light Shed

Part One

Someone on Gateworld mentioned that there weren't a lot of fics that dealt with the time that SG-1 spent on the planet after becoming addicted to "The Light". At around the same time, the tumblr MOS challenge was announced with a prompt of "Lost File".

So, naturally, I thought, "Hey! Two birds! One stone!"

Well, little did I know that this thing would grow as it has. I fretted and worried and edited this until finally, the other day, I had to admit that what I was writing wasn't a story, but an episode. Since I don't have the ability to actually film this, well, it's remaining a fic.

So, I hope it makes sense, and furthermore, I hope that you all like it.

-OOOOOOOO-

It had to have been a dream.

Heated pleasure, gentle joy, and the sweet relief of release.

Please, she prayed, let it have been a dream.

-OOOOOOOO-

"So." He'd stood next to the last load of supplies, fingers braced on his hips. "We're stuck here."

"For at least a few weeks." Glancing up at the Colonel, Sam paused in her catalog of the boxes. "It looks like we'll be eating well, at least."

O'Neill snorted. "If you call MREs 'eating well'."

"If you're going to be picky, it'll seem like longer, Sir." Sam rose, clicking her pen closed and stowing it in the breast pocket of her overblouse. "Besides, the General said he'd send through supplemental and fresh foods as well. And hey - maybe you could catch some fish for us."

He'd already found the rod and line. "That's definitely on the docket."

"I'll be spending my time studying the writing on these pillars." Daniel snapped a new cassette into his video camera. "General Hammond sent me enough tape to record the entire place."

"You really know how to kick back, don't you, Daniel?" Jack grinned. "Vacationing with you must be a blast."

"I'm not sure." Daniel smiled ruefully. "I've never really taken one."

Sighing, Jack looked around. "Well, we might as well make the best of it. Loran?"

"Yes, Jack?" The young man straightened. He'd been observing them quietly, leaning against a pillar near the back of the room where the 'Gate stood.

"Personal quarters are where, exactly?"

"If you mean bed chambers, they're all down the corridor where my room is. The other side of the Palace is mostly storage areas, and common rooms."

Sam leaned slightly against the boxes at her side. "Where's the kitchen?"

Loran pointed towards the rooms on the opposite side of the Palace. "Over there."

"Okay, then." The Colonel grabbed a box. "Let's get settled in, people."

-OOOOOOO-

They'd chosen rooms, delegated duties. With as long as they'd been together, the team knew the needs and the strengths of each other during extended missions. Sam had chosen the bedchamber closest to the bathroom facilities, the Colonel the room next door - mostly because it had a door that led out onto a patio of sorts that opened directly onto the beach. Teal'c's and Daniel's rooms flanked Loran's, chosen for sleeping arrangements and available seating space. Since Teal'c had no use for the larger of the two beds, he claimed the room with the smaller one, then handily moved it to allow a larger area for kelnorim.

It had only taken an hour or so to organize the supplies and unpack, and a single planning session to figure out the best way to take in their dosages in the Light room. Sam had utilized the first full day in the Palace to rig a timing device that interfaced with the podium to turn off the device automatically - a necessary precaution given their common addiction. Only two people were allowed in the Light room at a time, with alarms set on their watches as a failsafe in case Sam's timer somehow malfunctioned.

They'd all brought things to do to occupy their time during detox. Sam had been working on a presentation she'd been asked by a former professor to make at the Academy. She'd found a large table in one of the common rooms and staked her claim, spreading charts and books and papers out in academic abandon as she collected the information she wanted to pass on to the students.

Daniel's main focus was recording and interpreting the writings on the pillars of the Palace. A rough translation had proven interesting enough for him to draft Loran and Teal'c into the work, as well, and the three of them had become a valuable partnership. Loran's parents had started figuring the language before they'd succumbed to the Light, and he'd listened. He was a bright kid, if a little immature, and Daniel's patient demeanor had allowed the young man's confidence to flourish. Teal'c had offered more than mere translation. He'd helped identify different dialectal differences between sections of writing, indicating the basic era and group responsible for the decorations.

And the Colonel. Sam sighed, reaching for a pencil and the pad of sticky notes she'd been using to mark pertinent pages. The Colonel had taken up residence in her improvised office, his dream of spending his days fishing dashed by the constant, unrelenting storm that had been raging outside for more than a week.

He'd taken to whining. He was good at it.

"I can't believe the kid didn't tell us about the weather here."

Sam had been practicing her 'Mom' voice. "And what, exactly would we have done about it?"

"I don't know." O'Neill had been rolling a pen back and forth on the table for the better part of an hour, bumping the instrument between his palms. "Brought a Playstation?"

"No TV."

"Brought a TV?"

"No electrical outlets, let alone the proper current."

"Naquadah generator?"

"Sir, I'm not going to utilize powerful and rare resources just so you can play Super Mario Brothers."

He frowned. "That's Nintendo, Carter."

"Sir, I'm not going to utilize powerful and rare resources just so you can play Doom."

He thwacked the pen off the end of the table. "Damn."

Sam finished jotting a cross-reference on the note and stuck it on the margin of the coordinating page. "You could always go get dinner started."

He straightened, rounding the table towards her side. Stopping next to her, he exhaled a dramatic groan, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What's on the menu?"

"I'm not sure." She tapped the eraser of her pencil against the pad of Post-its, making a quick perusal of the materials spread out on the table. "That's why we posted a list in the kitchen - so we wouldn't have to remember."

Leaning into her, he nudged her shoulder with his own. "I want pizza."

"There isn't any, Sir."

"You could make some."

Sam snorted, turning her head to focus on the man at her side. "Who do I look like, Papa John?"

"Of course not." The dimples deepened in his cheeks as he grinned. "You're a girl."

"Sir." Rolling her eyes, Sam sighed heavily. "I don't know how you expect me to get anything accomplished."

"Well, duh." He nudged her again, his whole body colliding with hers - shoulder and hip and thigh. "I'm trying to distract you, Carter. You're the smarty-pants. I thought you'd have figured that out by now."

"And if I don't want to be distracted?" Somehow, their bodies had remained in contact, comfortably sharing heat and space - as if remembering past times when they'd been drawn this closely together. When it had been allowed. She looked over at him, near enough to see the tiny hairs that had grown since his morning shave. Her fingers twitched, knowing what his beard had felt like against her palm. Against her cheek. "What then?"

"Well, you'll lose." He winked at her. "I know your greatest weakness."

Heaven help her, she'd been sucked into his ridiculousness. "Everyone knows my weakness. It's chocolate."

"Nope." He perused her with a leisure that she was fairly certain he wouldn't have shown back at the SGC. Waggling his eyebrows, he poked her in the arm, then turned and headed towards the arched entryway.

"Okay, then. Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream."

"Not even close."

"Sir?"

He was halfway down the hall before he answered. "Figure it out, Major!"

-OOOOOOOOOO-

"Did you figure it out yet?"

She'd been working all morning, filling in the outline she'd created during the previous days. Color-coded index cards had replaced her sticky notes. The Colonel had been stealing them while she'd been checking her references, switching them with cards belonging in other parts of her lecture.

"Figure what out?"

"What we talked about the other day."

"Ummm – The pizza thing?"

"No."

"Fishing?"

"Sadly, no." He grimaced. "Still no joy on that front."

She snatched the green index card he'd been trying to hide and placed it back with its index card buddies on the far side of the table. Considering, she switched two different cards around, then straightened, staring down at the new order of her notes. "I'm sorry, Sir. I'm a little lost."

"I'm talking about your weakness."

The urge to groan and roll her eyes hit her again, this time with enough force that she actually did it. "Sir - I really am trying to concentrate on this."

O'Neill reached forward and grabbed the two cards she'd switched, placing them back how they'd been in the first place. "You were right in the first place. It reads better like this. It's a more gradual and effective rise in logic towards your ultimate thesis."

She sighed again. It was becoming a habit – like a tic that wouldn't abate as long as he kept inserting himself into her existence. Sam placed her hands on her hips and watched as the Colonel twizzled at the cards before standing upright.

Flipping back the glare guard on his watch, he pursed his lips dramatically before tossing a look her way. "Well, look at that. It's my turn in Paradise."

-OOOOOOOO-

"Dangling participle."

"Excuse me?"

"Here." He pointed at sentence on one of the pages of her mostly-final copy. "You've got a dangling participle."

Sam glared down at where his finger had parked itself on the page. With a little sigh, she read out loud. "'Working under the philosophy that something could be in two states at the same time, the quandary of the cat in the box was formed.'"

"Like I said, dangling participle."

"It makes perfect sense."

"Not so much. You need to have some sort of reference as to whom was working under the philosophy. I know who it was, and you know who it was, but will the hot-shot students you'll be lecturing know who it was?"

"Sir - "

"Here." He grabbed the paper and a pencil, quickly scribbling in the margin. When he was done, he held up the paper and cleared his throat. "'Working under the theory that something could both live and not live in the same instant, Schroedinger formed the quandary of the cat in the poison-filled box.'"

"Schroedinger, Sir?"

"Yeah." He looked at her for a moment before handing her the paper. "He's the sicko who poisoned the cat, right?"

"Well, yeah. But - "

"And now we've eliminated his dangling participle. You've also misspelled 'formula' and 'mechanics'." He pointed again. "See? Here and here."

Sam glared at him. "Once I get back to the SGC, I'll type all this into the computer, and my friend named 'Spellcheck' will take over from there."

"Naturally."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Science majors and Business majors." He sniffed. "I worked in the tutoring center on campus briefly. Science and Business majors had - hands down - the worst grammatical skills of any group."

"So?"

"So, Spellcheck was their friend, too."

Sam managed to keep her voice calm. Kind of. "I'll have you know that I aced my English classes in college."

"I'm sure you did." He pointed at another section of paper. "And yet you have a split infinitive there, you don't need an apostrophe in that 'its', and this is an incomplete sentence."

"It is not."

"Is too." He read out loud. "'Easy seemed unlikely'."

"I just forgot a word. It's supposed to say, 'Easy explanations seemed unlikely'."

"So, it was an incomplete sentence." He scanned further. "And here's a misplaced modifier. 'Scientists were in custody of the answer'."

She couldn't answer him past the other - ruder - words gathering in her throat.

He didn't seem to notice, because he continued. "A more proper way of saying that would be, 'Scientists were in possession of the answer', but even that sounds awkward."

Her voice came out somewhat terser than she'd intended. "It's called a 'rough draft' for a reason, Sir."

Oh, that grin. Both lecherous and innocent at the same time. How he accomplished that was a mystery. "Well, boy howdy, Doctor Carter, I didn't know you liked it quite that rough."

Sam's right eye narrowed. And then it twitched. And then, apparently, Jack decided that it was time for him to go, because he made a bee-line for the door without another word.

-OOOOOOOO-

"So, are you feeling improvement?"

Sam glanced up, surprised to see Loran standing near her. He seemed unsure, awkwardly turning himself halfway back towards the 'Gate room, as if preparing to flee. In the week and a half they'd been there, it was the first time he'd approached her.

He took her pause as an opportunity to clarify. "From the effects of the light. Are you feeling improved?"

"Yes, thank you." She grinned up at him, indicating the bench next to her. "Want to join me?"

"I don't want to bother you."

"It's no bother." She raised a brow in a gentle invitation. "I wouldn't mind the company, to tell you the truth. You and I haven't had an opportunity to get to know each other very well."

"I've been helping Daniel with his translations."

Nodding, Sam leaned back against the upholstered backrest. She'd found this room several days before. The room was set away from the other common areas, equipped with thickly padded benches and coordinating individual footrests all arranged along a low, wide expanse of windows which faced the sea. Quiet, cool, it was a nice place to go and think for a while. Loran was the first of the guys to find her here. "He says you've been a real asset to his work."

"I like it. It's interesting."

"Maybe you can continue your studies once we get back to Earth."

He didn't answer, merely throwing a look back over his shoulder at the hallway behind him.

"Are you supposed to be helping him now?"

"Daniel is taking his turn in the light room right now." Loran took a hesitant step towards her. "Teal'c is meditating."

"Kelnorim." Sam provided. "That's the actual term for it."

"Kelnorim." The young man tried out the word softly, nodding when he'd figured it out. "Anyway, I came out here looking for Jack."

Sam reached out and moved a cushion, providing a place for Loran to sit. "He's at the 'Gate making his report to the General."

"Oh." Slowly, Loran lowered himself to sit next to her on the bench. "I didn't know. When I saw you out here, I thought he must be somewhere nearby."

She frowned, casting him a questioning look. "Why did you think that?"

"Because you're usually together."

Sam felt herself stall. She'd been hoping that they hadn't been that obvious. In fact, she'd only truly noticed it the night before, while they'd been preparing the evening meal. She and the Colonel had always been in tune with each other, but with recent events - armbands and confessions, not to forget the time they'd spent under the ice city – their connection had only grown more profound.

They'd been standing together at the table in the kitchen, preparing a salad from the produce Hammond had sent through the 'Gate. O'Neill had washed the vegetables and handed them to her. She'd cored and peeled as he'd cut and diced. They'd handed knives and tomatoes and greens back and forth as if in the throes of some ancient, intimate dance.

Wordless, efficient, and easy.

Naturally, Daniel had noticed. "Geez. It's like you two are an old married couple."

Jack had been reaching around her to grab the head of lettuce, close enough that his whole body had been in contact with hers, his belt buckle hard against her hip. His breath had stirred the hair near her ear as he'd answered. "What?"

"Look at you. You don't even have to talk to communicate." Daniel's brows had flown high. "It's like you share a brain cell."

"Just the one?" O'Neill's tone had been dismissive. But he'd taken a step backward, anyway, careful not to touch her again as he'd moved around her. His shrewd eyes had taken in her expression, though, reading her stillness. He'd known how close to home Daniel's words had hit her. Sensed what she was feeling.

"You know what I mean." Daniel frowned, returning his attention back downward, where his video camera's battery compartment sat open. He grabbed a Q-tip and started cleaning gunk out of the housing where a battery had leaked. "I guess it just goes to show how long you've been working together."

"You and I have been working together longer, Daniel."

"Right - but you and I aren't in tune like this." Daniel picked up a screwdriver and started working on a particularly stubborn bit of crap inside the housing. "In fact, you usually end up arguing with me about every little step of - like - everything. Sam doesn't do that to you. You two are totally in sync."

Sam had pressed her lips together, placing the knife down on their improvised cutting board. Stretching her fingers, she flattened them on the board, trying to control their tremble.

"Yeah." O'Neill had nodded. "I know."

Whether he was answering Daniel's observation or acknowledging Sam's falter, she couldn't have told. Still, he'd given her a long moment before he'd nudged her with his shoulder and said, "Come on, Carter. You're holding up the works."

She'd fled as soon as the meal had been eaten, hoping nobody else had noticed how she'd pushed the food around on her plate, too preoccupied to eat. To be perfectly honest, until that moment, she'd been enjoying their time on the planet – despite (or perhaps because of?) the Colonel's meddling in her work. She'd obviously gotten complacent, though, losing sight of the perspective she'd thought she'd found since their time under the ice. It had been too easy during the past weeks to fall back into the kind of behavior that became complicated. The kind that had allowed her to do what - play house? Pretend?

Remember what it been like to be with him.

Certainly, they'd become too close again, too familiar, breaking down the sketchy re-constructed barriers that had previously been blasted away by mind stamps and za'tarc detectors. She hadn't even realized that they were doing it again until that moment, when Daniel had seen what was happening and had pointed it out.

And now Loran, too.

Sam looked down at where her boots seemed worn and crude propped upon the elegant tufted ottoman. Delving deep, she found a careful tone before tossing a glance back at their new friend. "We've been working together for a long time."

The young man's smile seemed poignant. "You remind me of my parents. They always enjoyed each other's company, too. They hated to do things without the other."

She thought about that for a moment. "I don't think that the Colonel and I are that bad."

"Bad?" Loran frowned. "How is that bad? They taught me that was how it should be. When you choose someone - you should always want to be with that person. You should yearn after them. That's what my parents used to say - that they yearned for each other."

She let out a tiny laugh. "That's sweet, Loran. It must be wonderful to have those memories of your parents. But it's not how Colonel O'Neill and I feel about one another."

He stared at her for a long uncomfortable moment before mirroring her pose, stretching his gangly legs out onto the stool in front of him. "It seems like it."

"Maybe that's just because you don't understand our ways."

"Maybe." Shrugging, Loran stared through the bank of windows into the stormy green of the ocean. "It seems that are a lot of things that I don't understand."

Sam watched him out of the corner of her eye, at how the youth's shoulders slumped, his face looking crestfallen. "You'll get there, Loran. Figuring things out is tough at your age. Being a teenager is one of most challenging times of life."

"Yeah. Maybe." He met her gaze, his eyes holding more wisdom than she'd thought possible in a kid his age. "Although sometimes it seems like I've already lived a whole lifetime. Born and lived and died, you know? And now I'm just waiting for the next life to start."

"And it will. When we get back to Earth."

He smiled, the expression carrying just a hint of skepticism along with his customary optimism. "You're probably right."

"You'll be okay, Loran."

"And you'll teach me?"

"We'll all help." She reached out and touched his arm. "With whatever you need."

Abruptly, he stood, giving her another gentle smile. "I'd better get back to Daniel. He'll be done in the Light by now." And with a spare nod, he walked away.

-OOOOOOOO-

She'd been indoors too long. Stretching, Sam rose from her chair and made her way out of her office and into the hallway. It was quiet - abnormally so, even for only five people in the huge building. She took a few steps towards the kitchen area, but a quick glance into the room proved it to be empty. Curious, she walked back down towards her office, and then past it, continuing beyond the Light room and into the large chamber holding the 'Gate.

Empty.

"Daniel?" Nothing.

"Teal'c?" She paused, listening. "Colonel?"

Silence. Frowning, Sam walked down into the hallway where their private quarters lay, but was met with still more quiet. Backtracking, she went back through the 'Gate chamber and out the opposite door, to where another large room looked out over the ocean.

For the first time in nearly two weeks, sunlight blazed in through the wide expanse of windows on the far wall. Beyond the windows, the ocean had started to clear, the waves dancing rather than raging. The shoreline was littered with debris and the odd bluish seaweed prevalent on the planet, but the sand had already started to dry into white dunes, and blue, bright sky peeped out from increasingly large holes in the clouds.

The storm had finally abated.

Turning right, Sam quickened her pace towards the door at the end of the long room, pushing it open and stepping out into the clear air. She hadn't realized how stuffy the palace had grown while they'd been stuck inside. She inhaled deeply, and then coughed a little at the salty, dank smell of the ocean. Grinning at her own foolishness, she hurried around the tiled pathway towards the dunes.

She'd forgotten about the huge stone sphinx-like things that stretched out like guardians along the shore line. The first one sat a few hundred feet behind the Palace. Sometime long ago, the head had become detached from the rest of the body, and it still lay there in the sand, on its side, its eyes half-buried in the dune, like some kind of eerie warning. Further down the beach, the other creatures stood stalwart against the winds and waves, beautiful, in their own way.

From the sandy expanse between the Palace and the broken statue came shouts and laughter. Sam watched for a moment as her friends emerged from around the second of the sculptures, sand kicking out from their feet as they ran. Someone had unearthed a ball of sorts from somewhere, and they were hurling it back and forth at each other across the sand.

Teal'c to Loran, Loran to Daniel, and then Daniel reached back and threw an admirable pass to the Colonel. O'Neill took several steps backwards and chucked the ball back to Loran, who missed it. The ball took a nasty bounce off a half-buried log, and rolled a stop a few feet from where Sam had stopped to watch.

"Sam!" Daniel waved at her, then pointed at the toy. "Throw it here!"

Smiling, Sam bent and picked it up. Instead of throwing it, she tucked it in her elbow and stepped off the walkway, slogging down the sand towards her team. "Can I join in?"

Jogging in her direction, Daniel grinned. "We thought you were still working."

"I needed a break."

"We were just tossing it around, but we could make a real game of it."

Sam glanced down at the ball in her hand. It was multi-colored, mostly round, although elongated - about the size and shape of a rugby ball. "Football?"

The Colonel hustled over. "Football? Are we putting a real game together?"

"Sure." Daniel grinned, holding his hand out to Sam, who tossed the ball to him. "Me and Jack against you and Teal'c and Loran."

"Sounds fair." O'Neill took a few steps backwards as Sam and Daniel started towards the sandy expanse upon which they'd been playing. "Touch or tackle?"

"You're old, Jack." Daniel snorted. "Better stick with touch."

It took a few moments to mark of boundaries and explain the basics of the game to Loran. A rousing game of "Rock, Paper, Scissors" determined that Jack and Daniel would possess the ball first. They started with an easy lateral pass and an attempt at a run towards the goal, but Teal'c simply reached out and tagged Daniel, ending the play.

Daniel passed to Jack next, and then the younger man took off through the defensive line, blazing past Loran just in time to pivot and receive Jack's high pass. Turning towards the goal, though, he stumbled in the soft sand and Sam had time to reach him and smack him on the back, killing the ball.

They spotted the ball at the point of the touch, and both teams regrouped for a confab. This time, it was agreed that Sam would defend the receiver, and Teal'c and Loran would rush the passer. Jack and Daniel had formulated a running play, though, involving another sneaky lateral pass and a path that took Jack around Teal'c and across the line for six points.

Sam and her team made a touchdown in the very next play. Acting as quarterback, Sam retreated for a few steps and then hurled a bullet all the way down the field towards Loran, who jumped easily in the air and snatched the ball mid-spiral in both hands, tumbling over the line to score.

"Hold up!" Jack raised both hands in the air. "Gotta get my game on, here." He shunted off his over-blouse and then bent to unlace his boots. Once barefoot, he loped up towards the walkway, depositing the clothing on a small retaining wall before heading back into the field.

Set up again, Jack retreated at the hike, then hard-lined it towards the beach, running around Sam on his way towards the goal line. Halfway there, Loran reached out for the tag, but the Colonel hucked the ball sideways towards Daniel just in time. Sam was there first, though, making the interception. Jack parried, twisting in the sand until he'd reversed direction, launching himself towards her. She dodged, but his height won out, and he ended up grabbing her shirt and taking her down.

Flat on her back in the dune, she cradled the ball close as she kicked some loose sand at the Colonel with a smile. "Hey! This isn't tackle, Sir."

"Sorry!" He braced himself up on his elbows. "That was an accident."

She stared at him speculatively. "Right."

"Promise." Pushing upright, he leaned down, offering a hand to Sam. "Come on. It's your ball."

She took his hand, accepting his help gratefully. Handing him the ball, she unbuttoned her bulky shirt, taking a few steps towards where he'd thrown his boots. Within moments, she'd shrugged out of her outer layer, and tugged off her boots and socks. Passing Jack on the way back to the 'field', she reached out and took the ball back from the Colonel with a friendly, "Bring it."

Forty-five minutes later, they were all barefoot, all in tees rather than the heavier over-shirts, and Daniel had pulled his handkerchief out and tied it around his head. After Teal'c had made his way down the field to score, he'd tossed the ball back to Jack.

O'Neill squinted into the sun. "So, we're tied at twenty-four."

"We are not." Teal'c swiped at some sand on his arm. "We currently have twenty-four points, whereas you and Daniel only have eighteen."

"No." Daniel shook his head, reseating his glasses on his nose. "We had more than that, didn't we, Jack?"

"You missed that last pass." Sam threw a gesture over her shoulder towards the opposite goal line as she switched her attention from Daniel to the Colonel. "You were already down before you secured the ball."

Jack's chin dropped in offense. "I was totally in possession of the ball before my knees touched down."

"You were not." Teal'c intoned. "Major Carter is correct."

"I saw you." Loran spoke from his position behind Teal'c. "You dropped it on the way down, too."

"I did not." O'Neill glared at Carter.

"Did too." Brow rising, she glared back.

"Prove it."

Groaning, Sam shook her head. "I shouldn't have to prove it. That's what happened, and you know it."

O'Neill narrowed his eyes and thwacked Daniel with the back of his hand. "Come on, Daniel. Help me out here."

"Uh, yeah." Daniel shook his head. "I tripped, remember? I couldn't see anything around the sand in my eyes."

Jack turned to stare his teammate, his expression annoyance mixed with betrayal. "Seriously?"

"What?" Daniel fished a fingerful of sand out of his ear. "Besides. My alarm just went off. Loran and I are supposed to be in the Light room for our dose."

"But we're not done yet!" Jack turned to Carter and Teal'c. "We can still play some catch, right?"

"I, too, must resign the game." Teal'c smiled gently. "It falls upon me to prepare this evening's meal."

O'Neill scowled. Palming the ball in one of his hands, he tapped it against his thigh. "Come on, Carter. You're having fun, right?"

The other three had already started back, and Sam glanced longingly towards the door. She could get a quick shower and then finish proofreading the second section, if she went in now.

But he looked so bereft. Like a child whose best friend had just rolled away in the cab of the U-Haul.

"Okay." She held her hand out for the ball. "Ten more minutes."

He lobbed it to her, his dark eyes catching hers in an easy, knowing grin. "Cool."

She followed him back out onto the field. "So, catch?"

"Sure." He veered off until he was around twenty feet away from her. "Catch is good."

She took a step backwards and threw a high, perfect spiral directly to him, which he caught handily. "Where'd you learn how to play football?"

She prepared herself to receive his throw. "Growing up. My older brother always had his friends over. Sometimes, if they needed to even out teams for a game, I got to play."

The Colonel tweaked a brow, then tossed her a quick pass. "They should have let you play more. You're good."

She hurled him back another high one. "I always liked it, but hey. Little sister, you know?"

He caught it and quickly chucked it back. But his throw went wide and ended up bouncing down the beach. He pointed. "You missed. Go get it."

"Actually, Sir." She watched the ball roll towards the surf, finally stopping when it bumped up against some seaweed. "You missed. You go get it."

He sauntered across the sand in her direction. "Tired already?"

"Excuse me?" Sam watched as he canted a teasing look at her. "What are you saying, Sir?"

"Well, of the two of us, who's had more of an issue with a lack of stamina?"

Lifting a brow, she scoffed. "Hey. I've never had a problem with - "

"Oh, but I remember things differently."

"Where? When?"

He stepped closer, giving her a narrow, knowing look. Holding up his hand, he counted off on his fingers. "The mines, the other mines. When you totally got addicted to some stupid light - "

"Whatever." She smiled. "I'm just as strong as you are."

"Ah, but you've got a weakness."

She rolled her eyes. "No, I don't."

"Really? Prove it." He gave her a challenging look, breaking into a run as soon as he'd passed her.

Swallowing a giggle, Sam sprinted after him. Down the dune, she chased him until she'd gotten close enough to grab his t-shirt. Wrenching him backward, she used the impetus to propel her forward, then shoved him behind her. She made three steps before his hand caught at her arm, stopping her as he rushed past. She growled then lurched after him.

He dodged her once, and then twice, leaping over a branch that had washed up on shore before sidestepping over another pile of debris. They were past the ball, but it didn't matter. This had gotten personal. Spinning on the firmer sand, he reached out as she neared, poking her in the ribs before she could evade his hands.

"No, you don't!" She dug into the sand with her toes, angling for his arm, but grasping the Colonel's wrist, instead. Yanking hard, she pulled him around slightly before tripping over a mass of seaweed and hitching headlong into him. He hadn't stabilized himself on the shifting sand, and he toppled, his arms tightening around her body as they fell.

She landed on top of him, her thighs straddling one of his, her torso pressed tightly against the expanse of his chest. Her arms had landed on either side of his body, his arms still encircling her. It took a moment for Sam to stop laughing long enough to catch her breath, and another moment to realize that she really shouldn't be this content to be perched on top of him - to be nestled against his body with such familiarity.

His hand made a lazy trail up her hip to rest on her lower back. "You okay?"

She felt his voice as well as heard it, the vibrations strong in the chest beneath her own. The temptation to stay right where she was - lying on top of this man - was unbelievably strong. It felt entirely too good to be where she was. With her entire being, she yearned to prolong the contact, to explore how much farther it would go, and how it would end. Especially since she already knew what was possible between them. The fulfillment she'd find there.

Sam summoned her strength and rolled to one side, sliding off the Colonel's body to land in the soft sand next to him. "Yeah. Sorry about that. I'm not sure - "

He waved off her apology, rubbing at his chest with his free hand. "It was my fault."

"No, Sir. I - "

"Oh, Carter." He grinned up at the sky, inhaling deeply. "Cut it out."

She sighed, aware suddenly that his arm was trapped between her ribs and the sand. Further aware that he hadn't made any move to pull himself free. She mused on that briefly as she followed his attention to the clouds above - darker than they'd been just a few moments before. Promising more rain. "I think our nice weather is about to change."

"I was just thinking the same thing."

"It was nice to get a break from the storm."

"It was. I really needed this." He looked over at her, his dark eyes reflecting the gray of skies. "The past two weeks have seemed interminable."

So close. He was so close. They were too far from the walls they'd built, too far removed from the regulations that they'd clung to for so long. She passed a look over his features before nodding. "I know what you mean."

His hand shifted beneath her. "It was nice while it lasted."

Were they still talking about the weather? Sam turned, moving onto her side, somewhat surprised when O'Neill followed suit to face her. Balancing her head on her upturned fist, she studied his expression, while he simply looked at her. That's all he had to do, really. Sam had never been able to resist the thrall that this man had over her. Especially relaxed this way, far, far removed from the SGC, with anyone who might act as chaperone beyond the dunes, behind walls of stone.

She dragged her thoughts back from the brink. "Maybe we'd better go back in."

"So anxious to get away from me."

"No." Shaking her head, Sam raised her hand and brushed some sand from his cheek, her fingertips lingering too long. "Just feeling a little out of sorts. I don't know how else to explain it."

The corner of his mouth rose as he watched her search for the right words. "Feeling feelings?"

She looked away - across his body, down the beach to where the waves had started pounding with renewed vigor on the sand. Of course he'd know what she'd meant. "Something like that."

Restless. She'd been restless. Just being here with him had opened wounds that she'd thought were closed. Maybe that's why his meddling with her presentation had irked her so much - he'd been more than friendly - taking liberties that a normal working relationship couldn't afford. It had reminded her of the wanton disregard they'd had for rules while they'd been under the influence of the armbands. Even more so, it had been like existing under the ice city again, constantly in each other's presence, far removed from the daily reminders of Military duty and position. She'd fallen again, despite her best efforts. Despite steeling her heart against what she knew she couldn't have, she had been daydreaming - wishing for stupid things.

Stupid things like leaning forward and pressing her mouth to his - just to remember what it felt like when he tasted her back.

Jolting upright, she leapt to her feet, taking a few halting steps backwards even as she prepared to flee back into the relative safety of the Palace.

"Carter?" O'Neill lifted himself from the sand, sitting, then kneeling.

"I'm sorry, Sir." She wiped a hand across her cheek. Her fingers came away wet. Rain? Mist from the waves? It didn't matter. "I've got to go back to work."

And as she made her way up the dunes towards the building at the top, she suddenly realized what he'd been teasing her about. Her weakness. Her fatal flaw.

He'd known it all along what it was.

Because it was him.

-OOOOOOO-

"Still mad?"

She sighed. Glancing up at him, she took another bite of whatever mystery casserole she'd heated up for her lunch. It had been a few days since she'd left him on the beach. This was the first time he'd sought her out, although she'd felt his eyes on her during mealtimes, or as they'd passed in the halls.

"Still mad."

Swallowing, Sam set her lunch down next to the pile of textbooks. "I wasn't mad, Sir."

"Annoyed?"

She pushed her shoulders back against the high, ornately-carved back of the chair she'd claimed as her own. "Not really."

"Peeved?"

Shaking her head, Sam allowed a tiny smile to touch her lips. "I'm not angry with you, Sir."

"Not even a little?"

She tilted her head to one side. "Well. Maybe a little."

"I'm sorry." He actually managed to look a tad contrite.

"Really?"

"Really." He splayed his hands out at his sides, as if in surrender. "I behaved badly, and took things too far, and for that I'm sorry."

She studied him for a little longer than necessary before inhaling deeply and sitting up taller in her chair. "So, you came in here to apologize?"

His hands dropped. "Pretty much."

"And not just to bug me some more?"

He had the audacity to leer at her. "Come on, Carter. It's me. Bugging people is what I do."

"I'm running out of time, Sir." She narrowed a glare at him. "I really need to get this done before we finish our detox, so I could use some quality work time."

"Can I help you somehow?"

"I thought that's what you were doing before." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Slowly, he took a few steps towards the table, trying not to look too closely at the papers spread around it. "I don't do well just sitting around."

Leaning forward, Sam shuffled around a few papers before flicking a look upward at him. "Wow. Understatement."

"Anyway." He came around to where she was, stopping next to her chair. "Before this whole thing started, I was planning on taking some time off. Relaxing. Going up to my cabin and puttering around."

"Puttering?"

"You know, replacing some shingles, sanding the pier. Re-caulking."

"Caulk?"

"There are logs." He raised a shoulder. "Logs needing caulk. It's all kinds of rustic."

She rose to her feet, folding her arm across her torso. "I know you were disappointed to not get your vacation, Sir."

"Devastated."

"I'm sorry for that, Sir."

"You know." He reached out and fingered the highlighter that sat on top of her stack of index cards. "About what Daniel said the other day."

"Sir, I really don't – "

"So, we're not going to talk about it?"

"We don't talk, do we?" Sam smiled, despite herself. "Isn't our usual MO to evade, deny, and ignore?"

"Ooooooo. Snarky." The Colonel exhaled heavily. "But understandable."

"You know." She started, then paused, finding her way in the messy thoughts roiling through her head. "It's not, really."

It took him a moment to answer. He picked up the highlighter and rolled it between his fingers for several beats before he looked over at her. "What are you talking about?"

"It's not understandable."

His jaw tensed, then released. "What, the attitude?"

She shook her head, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "No, the situation."

He chucked the pen back onto the table. "What do you mean?"

"Us. This. All of it." She turned, facing away from the table, leaning her hips back against the workspace. "None of it."

"Carter - "

She angled her body towards him. "We don't make sense, Sir."

He didn't answer for a long, long time. When he did, his voice was careful, measured and even. "As team mates, or - "

"As anything." She shifted, running her palm along the cool, smooth surface of the table. "Being on the same team. In the same command. In the same anything."

"Can I ask why?" His handsome face was hard, shuttered. He was concealing his true thoughts as well as if he'd lowered a veil.

"You could, Sir." Sighing, Sam smiled without humor. "But I'm not allowed to answer you."

"We're here, Sam. In this room, on this planet, inside this god-forsaken Palace. Who's going to hear us?"

The fact that he'd used her name wasn't lost on her. But she couldn't risk taking the bait. She shook her head, a wave of sadness shifting upwards through her. She took a step closer, lowering her voice even more. "It has to stop, Sir. We have to put the walls back up. Barriers, or something. I don't even know how to accomplish it, but it has to happen. We can't keep - being like this."

"Being what, friends?"

"Sir, don't be obtuse."

"Are you worried about what Daniel said?"

"It's not just Daniel." She raised her eyes to his, struck again by how he always seemed to be able to see right through her. "Loran said something the other day."

"What did he say?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter, really. Nothing specific. Just something about how we reminded him of his parents. How they acted like we do."

"And how is that?"

"You know what I'm talking about. This – thing that we do."

"What exactly did he say, Carter?"

She bit her lip, hazarding a look up at him before back down at where their hands splayed closely together on the table. "He mentioned that his parents yearned for each other. That they hated being apart. That they did everything together. He said that we reminded him of that."

"Yearned for - " O'Neill's brows rose as his eyes made a careful study of her features. "How is that not specific?"

"That's not the point."

"It kind of is."

"No." Sam sighed. "It's not."

"Then what is the point?" He crossed his arms across his chest. "I mean – the point as you see it?"

She searched for the right words, aware that every ounce of his energy was focused on her at that moment. "We have to find a way to end this, don't we? To not be – this way with each other. We have to figure out a way to just get over it already. I can't continue this. I can't live in this weird half-life of being and not being in lo— I mean, involved with you."

"But we're not involved." He lifted a hand to scratch at the stubble on his cheek. "Not in that way."

"Really?" Her voice cracked. "Then what the hell was that the other day? What has all the grammar crap and stealing my index cards and teasing me been about? What was the 'feeling feelings' stuff about? How can you bring up Jonah and Thera and still pretend that none of that actually existed?"

"I'm not pretending it didn't happen, Carter." He glowered at her, his lips thin. "I just don't know how to do what you're asking me to do. How do you just turn it all off? We are who we are, aren't we?"

"Yes. We are." Sam exhaled harshly. "Maybe that's the problem."

Hurt. He looked hurt. There was no other way she could describe it. His jaw worked for a moment before he nodded, pushing himself away from the table and striding around it towards the door.

"Sir." She broke inside, watching him leave.

He paused in the doorway, angling his head in her direction without really turning. "Don't worry about it, Carter. I won't be bugging you again."

And she honestly couldn't tell if it was relief or grief that seemed to swallow her whole.

P.S. As a last note, I did work at a tutoring center for two years during college. My experience was like Jack's-that business and science majors needed the most help with grammar (except for those unfortunate souls I worked with from California-they know who they are). But then, I barely passed Physical Science, so we all have our own strengths, right? ;)