To My Brilliant Feat

by Geonn 

"Science is just as much of an art as anything else. You're an artist, Major. Maybe the best I've ever seen." - Rodney McKay, Redemption

Her feet were bare and sticking out from the cuffs of a crisp white pair of pants. She stared at her toes for a while, curled them and twisted the big toe on top of the second one. Her back ached and her head throbbed. When she finally put her hand on the ground to push herself up, she saw the short sleeves of her white shirt. She looked down at herself and saw the deep 'v' of the collar, and knew she wasn't wearing anything under it.

She was groggy, weak, disoriented. The room seemed canted to the left and she pressed her shoulder against the wall. That helped. It gave her an anchor. The room obediently shifted to the correct axis and she blinked at the door in the opposite wall. There was a window set at eye level looking out into a plain white hallway.

The room was silent. She looked up and saw the light bulb hidden behind a wire mesh screen. Not that she could reach it anyway; the ceiling was at least seven feet, and there was no furniture to stand on. "Hello?" she said. Her voice was scratchy. She pushed away from the wall and struggled to stand. She almost fell halfway across the room, reached out with her left hand and pressed it against the door.

Sam pressed her face against the glass and peered down the hall. She could see a painting on the wall, and a water fountain a few feet away. The floor was gray tile, and she could hear vague sounds of activity at the opposite end. She slammed her hand against the wall and called, "Hello! Hello, can anyone hear me?"

Her mind was already working furiously. She knew what this was. She had seen enough science-fiction movies to know. Soon, someone who looked human but was really a Goa'uld or a Jaffa or an Ori soldier would come into the room and tell her in a calm voice that her life at the SGC had all been a dream. It had happened to Elizabeth Weir earlier that year, with the Replicators. And almost seven years ago, she and the rest of SG-1 had been captured by Hathor and made to think it was far in the future.

She heard footsteps on the tile and backed away from the door. She had a plan in mind. She would take out whoever it was, no matter what they said, and force them to tell her the truth. She would find the rest of her team and get them the hell out of wherever this place was. She saw someone's shoulder in the window and braced herself to attack. When the door swung open, she took two steps and almost tripped over herself stopping.

"Hello, Colonel Carter."

Her skin was cold as she stared at him, the tension draining from her body as if a plug had been pulled. She blinked and said, "Teal'c?"

It was definitely him. Dark black hair, the gold tattoo, a tailored black shirt stretched across the muscles of his shoulders. He was smiling sadly, the fear and pain evident in his eyes. The skin of his neck was puckered and pink. The damage stretched up to his cheek, to his right eye. His hands were clasped behind his back and he bowed slightly to her. "The doctors requested I be present when you woke."

"Why... what is going on?"

Teal'c hesitated. He stepped forward and said, "Do you have any memory of this place or the circumstances leading up to your... placement here?" The pause, and his tone of voice, made the word placement sound more like imprisonment.

"No," she admitted in a quiet voice.

Teal'c nodded. "They were afraid that might happen. It has happened before."

"What do you... what's going on?"

"You are on Earth," he assured her. "You are Colonel Samantha Carter, and the leader of SG-1. You have spent the last nine and a half years going through the Stargate battling the Goa'uld and Ori. It was not a dream, nor fantasy, nor delusion."

Her voice was close to a sob when she finally spoke again. "Then why am I in here, Teal'c?"

Teal'c bowed his head slightly and closed his eyes. His voice was a hoarse whisper. "Because there was an incident for which you felt responsible. Many perished."

"Who?"

"Daniel Jackson. Vala Mal Doran..."

"No," Sam whispered. She backed up against the wall and hugged herself. She bowed her head and let her hair fall forward over her face, as if blocking out Teal'c would keep his words from being true.

"And everyone at Stargate Command."

Sam looked up. "No."

The pain on Teal'c's face was too real to be faked. He looked up with wet eyes and said, "I am sorry, Colonel Carter. The Ori army attacked us. They focused their blast on the Stargate and the platform in Antarctica. The destruction was absolute. Colonel Mitchell and I were in F-302s attempting to create a defense of Cheyenne Mountain, but it was too late. We were shot down."

"Where was I?" Sam said. "For God's sake, why didn't I--"

"You were at Area 51," Teal'c said.

After his previous monologue, this seemed ridiculously short. "Teal'c. Tell me."

"You were at Area 51 with a device you hoped could defend the planet against the Ori attack."

"It didn't work?"

Teal'c was quiet for a few moments, staring at her. He finally said, "We do not know. You never activated it."

Sam didn't believe her eyes. It didn't make sense. "No. That's... no. Why wouldn't I activate it?"

"According to Dr. Lee, you... froze at the crucial moment. You did not activate the device because you were frozen."

Sam slumped against the wall and closed her eyes. "This is impossible. This is impossible." Teal'c stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulders. She sobbed and fell forward into his arms. "Please, Teal'c, tell me it's impossible."

Teal'c slid his hands around to the middle of her back and held her. "I'm afraid I cannot," he said quietly.

#

They left the isolation room and Teal'c took her hand. She squeezed his powerful fingers and drew strength from him, letting him lead her into the cold corridor. She scanned the corridor and found it distressingly familiar. She didn't know where she recognized it from, just that it was someplace she had seen once. She squeezed Teal'c's hand and pressed against his side as he led her into a large common room.

A woman in a tan pantsuit was standing with her back to them, her long black hair falling against her shoulders and blocking her face. An orderly in blue scrubs was standing next to her watching what she wrote. "Get these prescriptions renewed, please? Thank you." Her voice had a distinct accent to it, and Sam felt her heart leap. This is it. Teal'c told me Vala was dead, but the doctor will look like Vala. That will prove this is all just a bad...

The doctor turned and Sam's heart plummeted. She was beautiful, but that was where the comparison to Vala ended. Her skin was darker, her eyes wider behind a pair of rimless eyeglasses. She smiled and stepped toward them. "Ah, Mr. Teal'c. How is our patient doing?" With volume, Sam realized the accent was British. Just a slight difference from Vala's, but enough to dash Sam's hopes. This wasn't Vala-in-a-dual-role. It was a completely new person, one she had never seen before.

"As well as can be expected," Teal'c said.

Sam looked at the woman, then at Teal'c. He wasn't covering his tattoo. But that was impossible. "Teal'c, your tattoo..."

Teal'c nodded. "Dr. Foster is aware of the Stargate program."

"As is everyone on Earth," the woman, Dr. Foster, said in a soothing voice. "Sam, the destruction of Cheyenne Mountain was not something the SGC could simply cover up. The President was forced to disclose knowledge almost immediately."

Sam swallowed. "How long has it been?"

Foster and Teal'c exchanged a look. Dr. Foster stepped forward and said, "Samantha, you have to understand that you... have had periods of lucid behavior, times when you function normally and seem to be getting better, and then... you regress. You go into a catatonic state and, when you awaken, you have no memory of the attack, of anything that has happened."

"How long?" Sam demanded.

"Five years, this March," Foster said softly.

Sam sagged against Teal'c. "No. That's impossible. I can't... couldn't have lost five years..."

"You didn't," Foster said. "You just don't remember them right now. I'd like to help you recall what happened, and your life here, if you would let me."

Teal'c said, "Dr. Foster has proven quite adept at handling your condition, Samantha. It was she who requested my presence when you woke."

"Thank you," Sam said, although she wasn't sure which one of them she was speaking to. "I wouldn't have believed anyone else." She looked at Foster and thought, And that's exactly what you were hoping for, wasn't it? Replicator? Ori soldier? Who are you? When will the real Teal'c get here with the rest of SG-1?

"Thank you for your help, Teal'c," Foster said.

"It was my pleasure." He turned to Sam and took her other hand. He said, "Good-bye, Samantha. I will remain nearby for several days. I will return to visit you again when you are feeling better."

She nodded and closed her eyes as he bent to kiss her forehead. He released her hands and bowed slightly to Dr. Foster. Sam watched him walk out of the common room, down the short corridor. Foster started to speak, but Sam ignored her and walked quickly to the window. Foster trailed behind and stopped a few paces away from Sam.

Sam knelt on a chair under the window and pressed her face against the glass. She could still feel the slight moisture from Teal'c's lips on her forehead, could feel the texture of his fingertips and palms. After staring down at the sidewalk for a few seconds, she watched him step out of the building, pause to put a baseball cap on his head and continue walking into the parking lot. He opened the passenger-side door of a dark sedan and ducked his head to get inside.

The car pulled out of the spot and drove to the gated exit. Sam read the license plate number: RT5-6J1. The letters meant nothing to her. It couldn't be a Gate address, it didn't spell a word no matter how she tried to put it together... as she watched, the iron gate slid open and the car pulled out onto the main street running in front of the hospital. On the opposite side of the street there was a stand of evergreens with a shin-high white picket fence that was missing two random planks.

She looked at the windowsill. A dead fly was caught between the pane and the frame. She could have manufactured that in her mind. But why would the Replicators or Goa'uld go to that level of detail? How could they have known to? She touched the glass with her finger. It felt cool, but not cold.

"It is quite real, I assure you," Dr. Foster said from behind her.

Sam turned and looked at her. "I'm starting to see that," she said quietly. She dropped into the chair she had been kneeling on and drew her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them and pressed her face into the crook of her arm. She heard Foster's high heels on the tile, and then the doctor crouched in front of her.

A soft hand touched her hair and Foster said, "I'll help you, Sam. I promise you that. As long as it takes."

Sam squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed quietly.

#

When Sam stopped crying, she realized Dr. Foster hadn't moved. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and said, "I'll need shoes."

Foster stood and walked to a window in the near wall. Sam heard her say 'sneakers' and return with a pair of plain white sneakers. She carried them over to Sam and held them out. "Here you are."

Sam took the shoes and methodically pulled them on, bending down to tie the laces. When she finished, she looked up at the doctor and said, "I assume I have a room..."

"Right this way."

Sam stood and followed Foster out of the common room. The corridors were quiet, brightly lit from the row of windows to her right. Sam looked out onto the hospital grounds as they walked. Patients were walking along concrete paths, visiting with people who were obviously visitors from the outside world... there were no stumbling, drooling people in ratty robes, no one raving at invisible monsters that no one else could see.

The corridor ended in twin wooden doors with push-bars across the middle. Dr. Foster pushed on one and led Sam into a hexagonal nurse's area. A circular desk filled the center of the space, with closed bedroom doors in each wall. Each door had a name tag on the wall next to it with the patient's name and doctor written in marker. Dr. Foster walked to the desk and turned around a clipboard so she could read it. "Here you are," she said as she clicked the pen open. "Home sweet home. At least for now."

Sam scanned the names. Lucas, Sara - Dr. Black. Woodruff, Helen - Dr. Black. Holladay, Lena - Dr. Foster. Carter, Samantha - Dr. Foster.

Foster signed the clipboard and said, "Okay. Signed back in, so you'll get some dinner later." And pills, Sam thought. They have to know where to send my pills. "Is there anything else you need?"

Sam couldn't think of anything she didn't need, but she shook her head. "No. I'm fine. Thank you, Dr. Foster." She caught a quick flash on the doctor's face and said, "What? Teal'c... your name is Foster, right?"

"It is," she said. "I'm sorry, it's silly. But... for the past two years or so, you had taken to calling me Cora."

"Why?"

She smiled. "Well. W-well, it's my name."

"Oh," Sam said. She looked at her bedroom door.

"I understand it might take you some time to trust me again, Sam. I don't want to push you before you're ready. But I think we should keep up our regular sessions."

"Sessions?"

"Therapy sessions," Dr. Foster - Cora - said. She pulled a slim device from her pocket and tapped the screen with a fingernail.

Sam looked at the device and said, "ScraPaper."

Cora looked up. "I'm sorry?"

Sam gestured at the device. "That's a ScraPaper personal digital assistant."

"That's right," Cora said. She held it up and said, "It only became available last year. Do you remember it?"

"I don't know. I must." Her heart was pounding. If she recognized the PDA, then that meant they had to be telling the truth. She swallowed and said, "I think I would like to go into my room now."

"Okay. Um..." She looked down at the PDA again and said, "Your next therapy session is tomorrow at 4:30."

Sam expected her to ask if that was all right, but she knew she really didn't have an option. So she nodded and said, "I'll be there. If..."

"I'll come and escort you," Cora said. She stepped closer to Sam and touched her arm. "You are getting better. Last time it took you four days before you trusted us."

"How many times has this happened?"

Cora looked away, her dark lashes hiding her eyes. "This was the sixth time in the five years you've been here."

Sam said, "I'm not getting better."

"Your last relapse was seven months ago. The first three were over a period of several months. You are getting better, Samantha. Trust me on this."

"I guess I have to, don't I?" Sam said. "Thank you, Doctor. Cora."

Cora smiled. "Rest well, Sam. Dinner should be served in an hour or so."

Sam nodded. Cora stepped around her and left the nurse's area, leaving Sam alone. She walked to the door of her room and stared at her name in the slot next to the door. She had been there long enough that her name, unlike most of the others, had been printed off a computer. Long-term resident, apparently. She rested her hand on the knob, took a breath, and stepped into the room.

The curtains over the window cast a welcoming blue glow across the bed. It was neatly made, and the room was cold from being closed up for however long she had been gone. She stepped inside and closed the door. To the right was a narrow closet, along with a closed door that a quick peek revealed led into a private bathroom. A foot locker at the far end of the bed was closed, and she opened it to find her clothes neatly folded within. More white scrubs, two more pairs of sneakers, jeans, sweaters, rolled-up socks. She touched a few items, then closed the locker and stood up.

She walked to the desk under the window and went through the top drawer. A folded letter caught her eye and she opened it, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the signature. "Sam. I was thinking about you earlier today, when I was leaving class. I saw a woman leaving the Academy's lecture hall and, for a split second, I thought it was Mom. Then the fact that every time someone calls me 'Dr. Fraiser'... I really miss her, so I can only imagine how you feel. I hope to hear from you soon. The doctor said you were doing really well last time I talked to her, so maybe you'll get to come home soon. I'd really like you to be there for my graduation. They're rushing us through, what with the 'new' threat facing the world. Love you, Cassandra."

Sam put the note down and went through the rest of the desk drawer. She found several envelopes addressed in her handwriting. She found a few addressed to General Jack O'Neill, care of the Department of Home-world Security, several to Teal'c... she had apparently never sent them. Or maybe you addressed them in advance because you knew you would forget. She cursed under her breath and closed the drawer.

She couldn't decide if she believed what she was seeing or not. She walked to the bed and stretched out on top of the cold blankets. The ceiling was acoustic tile, and she tried to remember staring at it before. Five years of nights, not counting the times they had put her in the padded room, she should feel some recognition. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the hospital.

An air-conditioning system was blowing somewhere, the quiet hum permeating the room. She heard raised voices coming from the common room, and the squeak of the nurse's shoes as she returned to the desk. She heard the rattle of wheels on the tile and thought, Dinner. Sure enough, a few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

She sat up, straightened her scrub top and said, "Come in."

The door opened and the nurse shuffled in. "Good evening, Colonel. It's good to see you back."

Sam nodded and watched as the plump woman placed the covered tray on the bed. She looked at the dark room, backed up a step and turned on the overhead light. "That's better. I'll turn it off again when I leave."

"That's okay," Sam said. She watched as the woman poured some milk into a plastic cup. "I wasn't sleeping."

"Good, good." She put the glass on Sam's night stand and straightened, smoothing her hands over the front of her dress. "Oh, they said you might not remember me. Is that true?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

The nurse waved it off. "Don't be. Happens a lot. I'm Nina, and the other nurse is Simone." She raised her eyebrows and said, "Should be easy to remember, right?"

Sam blinked at her and then realized. She smiled weakly. "Oh. Nina Simone. Right."

The nurse grinned, glad her joke had landed, and said, "Well, um... you finish your meal, you can either leave the tray outside your door, or bring it up to the nurse's station. There's a night-time orderly named David, just give him a shout if you need help. Anything you need right now?"

"No," Sam said. "Thank you, Nina."

"No problem, child. Good to see you back." She pushed her cart, filled with meals for other patients, out of the room and closed the door behind her. Sam picked up the tray and moved it to her lap. She closed her eyes and pictured a steak. Nice, thick, medium-well. Baked potato on the side, with a pat of butter melting in the meaty part. Sprig of parsley at the top of the plate. She focused on it, until the image filled her mind. She hooked her fingers in the lid of the tray and revealed her dinner.

It was the same kind of tray she had used in elementary school. Separated into four compartments, three little ones at top and one big one on the bottom. The dinner was a square of fish on a bed of rice, with black-eyed peas, and a cup of Jell-O for desert. She looked at the Jell-O cup and saw it was red, not blue. The meal was definitely not manifested from her mind. The fish smelled awful, the rice looked undercooked and she hated black-eyed peas.

All the small things, the smells and sights and objects that she wouldn't have thought to imagine piled up. Teal'c's burnt face, the subtle whiff of Cora Foster's perfume, the dead fly in the window... it was all too real, too realistic to deny. She looked down at the smelly fish and the bad rice and started crying again.

#

Sam didn't sleep that night. She kept her scrubs on, since they were comfortable enough to sleep in and she didn't want to go digging for a pair of real pajamas. She put her food out by the door without touching it; she had no appetite.

The next morning, she woke and dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. She left her room like a prisoner who wasn't sure if her cell door was supposed to be unlocked. She walked to the nurse's desk and saw a tall, thin black woman writing in a file. "Excuse me," she said.

The woman turned and smiled. "Good morning, Colonel. Nina told me you were back. You really oughta eat your food, though. Keep your strength up, no matter how bad it tastes."

Sam smiled. "I'll try my best. Do I have phone privileges?"

"Sure do, hon. Long as it's a local call."

"It's..." She stopped, suddenly realizing that she didn't know where Teal'c was staying. She said, "I... I don't know if it is."

"Well, who do you want to call?"

"My friend, Teal'c. He said he was staying in town."

The nurse, apparently Simone, was nodding. "Mm-hmm. Dr. Foster left his number in case you wanted to call him." She picked up the phone and placed it on the counter, then put a slip of paper next to it.

Across the top of the paper, Cora Foster had written "For Sam, Teal'c's hotel #. Room 422" Sam stared at the woman's handwriting for a long moment, then picked up the phone and dialed. She told the clerk she wanted room four-two-two, and waited as he put her on hold. Seconds later, Teal'c's voice came over the line. "Hello, Samantha."

"How did you know it was me?"

"No one else has this number, nor the desire to call me." He paused. "Also, perhaps it was a bit of wishful thinking."

Sam smiled and felt tears in her eyes. "It's real, Teal'c. It's all real. It really happened."

He was quiet for a long time before he said, "Yes. It did."

"Can you come visit? I want to talk about... everything. I want to know what happened."

"It is why I stayed."

Sam nodded and wiped at her eyes. "Okay. Any time will be good." She remembered Cora and said, "Oh. I have a session with Dr. Foster later today. 4:30."

"Perhaps we should have lunch together."

"I would like that," she said. "Noon?"

"That would be fine. I will see you then. Good-bye, Samantha."

Sam said good-bye and hung up the phone. To Simone, she said, "Thank you."

"Oh, hon," Simone said. She bent down and picked up a plain gray duffel bag from under the desk. "Dr. Foster sent this down for you, too."

Sam took the bag and thanked her. She carried the bag into her room, shut the door and put the bag on her bed. She unzipped it and found a stack of newspapers inside. The top paper had a post-it note stuck to it. Sam already recognized Cora Foster's handwriting. "Sam, I've saved these since your first incident. Hope they fill in some of the gaps. Dr. Foster."

Sam picked up the top paper. "PRESIDENT CONFIRMS EXISTENCE OF LIFE ON OTHER PLANETS." A picture of Henry Hayes during a press conference and a stock photograph of the Stargate took up the rest of the front page. Sam flipped it over and read the story. "After the devastating attack on Cheyenne Mountain earlier this week, the President confirmed that he and several world governments are fully aware of life on other planets."

She read what she already knew; the Stargate, the IOA, the Odyssey and the Daedalus. Then the things she had forgotten.

According to official sources, four Ori ships had come to Earth. NORAD had tracked their approach and Odyssey had moved to intercept before they even reached the solar system. When the ships arrived, there was a brief skirmish between the Ori vessels and Earth's F-302s. Several of the smaller Ori craft breached the atmosphere over the United States, in search of the Stargate, it was assumed, and the 302s were forced to give chase. The ensuing firefights took place over parts of Mississippi and Kansas in full view of the public.

The Odyssey was eventually beaten back and one Ori ship was within striking distance. It opened fire on the Stargate's location and destroyed the mountain with a single blast. The result was worse than Mt. St. Helens, with an estimated blast equal to 30,000 Hiroshima-sized nuclear weapons. The cloud of debris stretched across sixteen states. Casualties, both from the attempted defense and the eruption, were estimated in the millions. Colorado Springs was reduced to a moonscape.

Sam was shaking when she put the newspaper down. She walked to the desk, pulled the chair out and fell into it. She covered her face with both hands and took deep, slow breaths. When she could finally stand under her own power again, she moved back to the bed and went through the rest of the stack. More accounts of the attack followed, different points-of-view of the same hell. Then there was an issue of Parade Magazine with her on the cover. She was wearing her dress blues, staring into the camera like a deer in the headlights. The headline was in big white letters across her stomach: You Owe Her Your Life.

She flipped to the article. It was an interview detailing the things she had done to save the world in her time with the SGC. Diverting an asteroid, stopping System Lords, figuring out complex layers of alien code in time to avert disaster... the interviewer failed to mention how many times Daniel or General O'Neill or Teal'c had given her the idea that ended up saving the day. "It's a better story with one focal point," General O'Neill said, clapping her on the arm. "You're the designated hero, Carter. You deserve it."

She pressed her thumb against the bridge of her nose, and wondered if she was remembering something or just projecting. Had General O'Neill really said that? She shook her head and continued to read. "As seen in Emmett Bregman's groundbreaking documentary, Colonel Carter is more than just a brilliant mind and a gung-ho soldier. The death of a fellow soldier hit Carter especially hard, as seen in one of the most gripping scenes of the award-winning film."

They used Janet's death for a movie, Sam thought. The bile rose in her throat and she had to throw the magazine aside before it made her throw up. She dug through the pile until she found another article. "Reclusive Heroine Samantha Carter Discovered at Mental Health Facility." Her breakdown had been private up to that point. Judging from the article, people thought she was merely being too hard on herself. "Surely she can't expect to be perfect," the reporter wrote. "Our hearts go out to this brave, courageous soldier. Get well soon, Colonel Carter."

She still didn't know exactly what had happened. Why had she frozen? Was there an error with her calculations? Had she seen a last-minute adjustment that would mean the difference between success and failure? She was still debating the what-ifs when there was a knock on her door. She straightened and turned as Nina stepped inside. "Hey, there, Colonel. Got some breakfast for you, if you're feeling up to it."

"Yes, thank you," Sam said.

Nina brought the cart in, dealt out the tray as she had the night before, and smiled kindly at Sam. "How was your night?"

"I didn't sleep much."

"Oh, that's too bad. Well, hopefully these eggs will help you feel alive again. Scrambled, like you like, with a bit of Tabasco sauce, and some orange juice. Need anything else?"

Sam shook her head and Nina left the tray on the bed. Sam took the tray to her desk, sat down and picked at the eggs while she went through the remains of the papers. There was a memorial to Doctor Daniel Jackson ("The Man Who Gave Us the Keys") and a career-long retrospective of Hank Landry. Near the bottom of the stack, she found a tabloid article on Teal'c and Cameron Mitchell.

"Did the alien cause the wreck? Where do his loyalties lie?" Sam felt her ire rising as she read the words. Mitchell had lost his legs in the crash, both amputated from the knee down. He had sunken into depression and, as of that writing a year ago, was not returning phone calls. Sam closed her eyes and recalled the alternate version of Mitchell she had met. Bitter, angry, despondent. A man waiting for the grave. She wondered if the Mitchell she knew had now taken that same path.

Teal'c, on the other hand, experienced a shocking turnaround in public opinion. The crash that had taken Cam's legs had caused burns over forty percent of Teal'c's chest. The wounds Sam had seen on his neck and face were only the tip of the iceberg. He had appeared on television to tell his story, and soon people began to see who he truly was. He was a hero, a rebel who had turned against his enslavers to give his family and the rest of his people a chance at safety. They saw him as a warrior who had given everything to fight side-by-side with the warriors of Earth and who had, time and again, led the SGC to victory. He was a national hero.

Sam pushed the papers away and leaned back in her seat. She stared at her food and suddenly realized that there was something missing. She had been back in the general population for over twelve hours. She pushed away from the desk, left the room with a little more assuredness, and walked to the nurse's desk. "Excuse me," she said. Simone and Nina looked up and Sam realized how ridiculous her complaint was. "I, um... I haven't gotten any pills."

Nina said, "Dr. Foster doesn't prescribe you any, honey. She doesn't think they'd do you any good. I, for one, am happy to see a doctor who doesn't answer all the problems of the world with pills and prescriptions."

Sam blinked. "Oh. Well, that-that's good, I suppose. Thank you anyway."

"Sure thing, hon. You need anything else, you can just press that button next to your bed and we'll answer."

"Oh. Okay."

She returned to her room and went to the foot locker. She picked out a green sweater and laid it out. She felt weird dressing to go out to eat with Teal'c, but it certainly felt like an event. She was going to shower, put on something nice, and hope the nice people in charge of this place would grant her a day pass. She put her elbows on her knees and rested her head on her eyes, running her fingers through her hair.

If this was the new reality, she was starting to understand why she spent so much time trying to forget it.

#

Sam was in the bathroom, patting water on her eyes, when there was a soft knock on the door. She came out into the bedroom just as Cora stuck her head in. The doctor smiled and said, "Good morning, Sam. How are you feeling today?"

"A little sick," Sam said.

Cora came into the room. "Do you need to visit the infirmary?"

Sam gestured at the papers on the bed. "It wouldn't help. No wonder I have such an easy time forgetting."

Cora nodded. "I was worried about that, actually. The first time I showed you these, you slipped right back into your memory loss. It was like your brain refused to admit it was true." She walked to the magazine with the cover story on Sam and picked it up. "I'm afraid articles like this didn't help. You saw yourself responsible for the deaths of almost everyone you knew, and they were calling you a hero."

"Why?" Sam said. "Why didn't I activate the machine? Did I ever tell you?"

"Yes. But I think it would be better for you to remember on your own."

Sam nodded. "What can I help you with, Doctor? Cora."

"I was just coming by to see if you wanted to take a walk on the grounds. Reacquaint yourself with the hospital."

Sam checked her watch. "I have a lunch date with Teal'c at noon."

"We'll be back well before then."

"Okay." Sam picked up a lightweight jacket and shrugged it on. Cora stepped aside and let Sam move past her, then followed her out of the nurse's station. The doctor was dressed in a coral-colored sweater and a pale skirt. Her hair was pulled back and held with a clasp. She fell into step next to Sam and watched her as she examined the corridors.

"Anything coming back to you?" she asked.

"It feels familiar," Sam said. She saw a fire alarm and stepped closer, reading the fine print on the emergency evacuation procedures.

Cora watched her with a smile. "Still trying to trip 'the bad guys' up with the small details, I see."

Sam straightened and looked at Cora. "Sorry."

"I was born in Swindon. My parents were Florence and Daniel Foster. I have a sister named Lydia. I'm fluent in French, and when I was seven, I fell off my bicycle, hit my head and lay in a ditch because I truly thought I had died." She paused. "I know all about you, too. Things you've told me. That you were thirteen when your mother died, and you learned the news while you were baking cookies. It's why you now can't stand baking or eating cookies. Your first pet was a dog named Pavlov. Your most recent pet was a cat named Schrodinger. And you never told me this, but I noticed that you tend to name your pets after scientists."

Sam smiled. "You've done your homework."

"No, you gave me the cheat sheet. This would all go so much easier if you would just admit what you know is true, Samantha. That this is reality."

"I'll need a little more evidence of that, I'm afraid."

They stepped outside and Sam blinked into the sunlight. She looked up at the sky and saw a random spread of clouds overhead. Birds flew from one tree to another, and she could hear the hollow roar of an airplane somewhere in the distance. There was a slight breeze from the north, and she was glad for the jacket. She hugged herself and started walking along the concrete path. Cora followed her, willing to let Sam dictate the conversation.

After a long silence, Sam stopped next to a bench and said, "Where is General O'Neill?"

"Washington," Cora said. "He is considered the face of the Stargate program, so he is the one requested for television appearances. Larry King, Oprah..."

Sam laughed softly. "I'm sure he loves that."

Cora smiled. "On several occasions he has asked if I know of a way to speed the aging process. I'm not sure how being older will help him..."

Sam closed her eyes and grinned. "Not for him. He has a clone about half his age. He wants to speed up the clone's aging so they can switch places for the talk show circuit."

Cora's smile widened. "You never told me that before. You always just smiled and told me to forget about it."

Sam looked at the doctor. "Maybe you don't have clearance."

"I have clearance for everything and anything you could tell me, Colonel. I know all about the Aschen, the Ree'tou, the Tok'ra..." She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "I know you and Dr. Janet Fraiser were in a romantic relationship for five years prior to her death." She touched Sam's elbow and said, "You don't have to censor yourself with me."

Sam nodded slowly and looked down at Cora's hand on her arm. "Please, Samantha. Let me help you." Sam pulled her arm away from the doctor's and lashed out.

Her fingernails scraped across Foster's cheek and she hissed, "Colonel Samantha Carter. Serial number..."

An orderly stepped forward with a syringe, but Cora said, "No! Stay back." She touched her cheek and checked to make sure it wasn't bleeding. "Samantha... please, I'm your friend."

Sam lunged at the doctor but the orderly grabbed her. "Be gentle!" Cora shouted. Sam howled as the orderly straightened her arm. He wrestled her to the floor and held her right arm out straight. Sam bucked against him, but Cora knelt on top of her and pressed the syringe into a vein. Their eyes locked as she depressed the plunger, and Sam saw tears clinging to the lashes. Pain from the scratch, or something else? "I am so sorry, Samantha."

The strength went out of Sam's limbs and she went slack against the orderly. Her eyelids grew heavy, and the world faded to the garden as Cora's fingers fell away from her arm. "Sam? Are you okay?"

Sam looked up and stared at Cora's cheek. There was no evidence of the scratch, but who knew how long ago it had been? "Sorry," she said. "Just a..." What? Flashback? Planted memory? She shook her head. "Sorry."

"It's all right. You're remembering. Aren't you?"

"I... yes. I think so."

Cora smiled. "That's wonderful, Sam. Do you want to talk about what you remembered?"

"Not really." Sam lowered herself onto the bench and Cora sat next to her. She crossed her legs and rested both hands on her knees, watching Sam stare across the grounds. Finally, Sam said, "I do remember the events, right? What happened during the attack?"

"Every time," Cora said softly.

Sam swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "I'm not sure I want to."

Cora reached out and took Sam's hand. Sam looked down at the way Cora's darker fingers closed around her hand, then looked up into Cora's bright green eyes. "That was inappropriate," Cora said softly. She was inches away from Sam's face. "But thank you."

"I kissed you," Sam said.

Cora withdrew her hand and straightened against the back of the bench. She cleared her throat and reached up to adjust her glasses. "We shouldn't focus on that."

"But I did. I kissed you. When?"

Cora cleared her throat and looked out over the grounds. She reached under her hair to tap the back of her neck and said, "It, it was my birthday. I was a bit depressed in our session together. When you got up to leave, you gave me a birthday kiss. It was nothing."

"You're not acting like it was nothing."

Cora ducked her head and said, "You're my patient. Even if I did have those kinds of feelings for you, I would never and should never act on them. It wouldn't be fair to you. I mean, you might as well have just met me." She sighed and closed her eyes. "I apologize, Colonel."

Sam looked away from the doctor and focused on the trees in the distance. "Am I a... an outpatient? Am I allowed to leave hospital grounds?"

"Yes, of course," Cora said. "You were a voluntary admission. You can leave any time you like, providing you're in your right mind."

"As opposed to...?"

"Just after a blackout, when you're convinced that we're Goa'ulds trying to trick you. The first time you lost your memory, we let you go. You assaulted someone in a convenience store not far from here and demanded to be taken to Stargate Command. Since that time, when it looks like you're having another episode, we've taken the precaution of putting you in isolation until you calm down."

Sam tilted her head to the side and massaged her temple. "How often does it usually take? For me to remember everything?"

"It depends. Sometimes you remember everything the next day. Sometimes it takes a week or two. It's mainly a matter of how widespread your memory loss is, and how resistant you are to accepting the truth. Speaking with Teal'c will be a definite help, I think."

Sam nodded and checked her watch. "I should probably get back to my room before..."

"Right." Cora stood and held out her hand to help Sam up. When Sam took it and pulled, she ended up standing uncomfortably close to Cora. Cora's hands hovered a few centimeters from Sam's shoulders, her lips reluctantly parting as Sam's tongue pressed against them. Cora inhaled sharply and finally let her hands fall. She pulled Sam close and moaned as their kiss deepened. Sam wrapped her arms around the doctor's waist and finally pulled back. Cora's eyes were wide with surprise, her lips still parted. "That was inappropriate," Cora said softly. She was inches away from Sam's face. "But thank you."

Cora realized how close they were standing and backed up a step. Sam didn't release her hand. "It was more than a kiss, wasn't it?"

"Sam..."

"What else don't you want to tell me, Cora? What else do you think I should 'figure out on my own'?"

Cora took a breath and looked down at Sam's hand. "I was glad you had forgotten. Not because..." She shook her head. "It was a mistake. A violation of your trust."

Sam said, "You didn't come on to me, though. Right? I came on to you."

Cora shook her head and said, "It doesn't matter. I'm your psychiatrist. It's inappropriate."

Sam finally released Cora's hand and said, "All right. Besides, you're right. I just met you."

"Right," Cora said. She brought her fist to her mouth, as if planning to cough, then tugged on her blouse to straighten it and said, "I should let you go. Your lunch with Mr. Teal'c."

Sam nodded. "And our session is at 4:30."

"Yes." Cora cleared her throat, hesitated and then gestured at the path. "Lead the way."

Sam started to walk and Cora followed her. Sam stuck her hands in her pockets and said, "Have we slept together?"

"No," Cora said immediately. "No, I wouldn't let it get that far."

Sam looked at her and read the truth on her face. We haven't slept together, she knew. But you wanted to. Maybe I did, too. She didn't say anything aloud, however, and continued along the path. When they reached the doors, Cora overtook Sam, stepped in front of her and put her hand against the door so it couldn't open. "Are we okay?"

"We're fine," Sam said. "In fact, it explains some of the things I've been feeling when I look at you."

Cora bowed her head and pulled the door open. The cool air blew past Sam and she went back into the dark hallway. It took her eyes a moment to adjust and she watched as Cora started toward the other end of the corridor. Sam said, "Dr. Foster." Cora turned. "Thank you for the walk. I hope we can do it again sometime."

"I'd like that, Sam. See you at our session." She waved and walked on.

Sam watched Cora walk away, the sway of her hips and the way her right leg swept in front of the left and then back again. The woman was a walking seduction. Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was very apparent that Cora Foster wasn't the only one hoping for something to happen between them.

#

Teal'c wore a dark suit with a collar-less white dress shirt. Sam opened the door at his knock and tried a casual smile. "Hey, Teal'c. You look great."

"As do you, Samantha." He bowed slightly and extended a bent elbow. She slipped her arm around his and closed the door to her room. "How are you adjusting following..."

"My most recent outburst?" He paused and then nodded. "I'm fine. Or I will be fine." She patted his arm and said, "Where are we going for lunch?"

"A Chinese restaurant not far from here. We have dined there before."

Sam felt like an invalid, but it was easier with Teal'c at her side. She let him lead her through the common room, down the short corridor to the front door of the hospital. They stepped outside and Sam glanced down at the mess of crumpled cigarette butts in the garden next to the door. Another nice touch, she thought, if this is a fantasy I'm making up. She looked up and saw the official government sedan waiting at the curb. Teal'c opened the back door for her and she slid in across the cool upholstery. Teal'c slid in next to her and said, "Have you attended any therapy sessions yet?"

"No," Sam said. "The next one is scheduled for 4:30 this afternoon."

"Good," the driver said. He turned around and Sam saw Cameron Mitchell's face peering out from beneath the brim of the Air Force cover. "Then we still have a chance to get you the hell out of here."

Sam blinked. "Cam? But what...?"

"We have little time," Teal'c said. "The Replicator known as Fifth had invaded your mind once again."

"It took some doing," Cam said as he angled the car around the driveway of the hospital, "but we were able to hack into the fantasy using those chairs you guys picked up on P7J-989. We've got about fifteen minutes to get you out of here before--"

"Wait!" Sam said. She was rubbing her temples furiously.

"Sam, we do not have time to wait. Jackson and Vala are waiting to set off the anti-Replicator weapon as soon as..."

"Fifth is dead!" Sam said. She looked at Teal'c and said, "My duplicate killed him two years ago."

Cam and Teal'c were silent for a moment. Then Cam said, "Damn it, Sam. That is exactly what he wants you to think!"

"No," Sam said. "Stop the car." The car accelerated and Sam reached across the seat. She wrapped her arm around Cam's throat and yanked him back against the seat. Teal'c grabbed her from behind and tried to pull her off, but that only increased the pressure on Cam. The car veered as Cam released the wheel to grab her arm, and Teal'c bellowed in her ear for her to calm down. Sam felt tears burning down her cheeks as she said, "Stop the damn car!"

Teal'c managed to get her arm loose and threw her against the back seat. Sam grabbed for the car handle and threw open the car door. Cam shouted, "Damn it, Teal'c, stop her!"

Sam leapt from the car without thinking. She hit the hard asphalt of the driveway and curled into a ball, rolling painfully off the road and into the grass. The car squealed to a stop and Sam pressed her face into the deep green grass. She smelled dirt and felt the moisture of the dew cooling her cheeks. She brought her hands up and grabbed handfuls of dirt, crying as she sunk her hands into the earth. This couldn't be fake. Fifth couldn't have faked this amount of detail even if he had still been alive.

She remembered the farmhouse morning he had created for her. A rose that didn't smell, bacon and eggs that might as well have been on a TV screen... Maybe he just got better at it. She felt hands on her back and didn't protest as she was rolled over. Cora reached up and swept her dark hair behind her ears as she knelt next to Sam. "Are you all right? Is anything broken? Sam? Sam, what happened?"

Sam looked past Cora and saw Teal'c standing next to the open door of the government sedan. The car was stopped, and she could see the driver standing behind Teal'c and staring at her with wide, shocked eyes. It was not Cameron Mitchell. Sam wept and wrapped her arms around Cora's neck. The doctor embraced her and said, "It's all right, Sam."

"I thought... they said it was Fifth."

"What?"

Sam was weeping now. "They said Fifth had me. They said this was all an illusion."

Cora pulled back and said, "Who? Teal'c?"

"And Cameron Mitchell. They said they were getting me out."

"But you knew it was a lie?"

Sam nodded and stared down at her dirty hands. Cora laughed and said, "Sam, you don't understand. Every relapse was preceded by what we called an 'escape clause.' You would come up with a scenario which let you disbelieve reality - whether it was that I was a Goa'uld or we were all brainwashed by the Ori - and it gave your mind a trapdoor. It let you regress. But Sam, you escaped. You fought against it and you won. This is an amazing breakthrough!"

Sam chuckled weakly and wiped her nose. It left a streak of black mud behind and Cora tenderly wiped it away. Teal'c stepped closer and held out his hand. "Samantha, are you all right?"

"Yes, Teal'c," she said. She took his hand and let him help her up. "I'm sorry, Teal'c. Can I get a rain check on lunch?"

He bowed his head. "But of course. Call me when you are feeling better."

"I will. Thank you."

Cora put an arm around Sam's waist and turned her toward the hospital. "We'll get your clothes cleaned. Is there anything else you need?"

"A shower," Sam said. Her voice was barely above a whisper and she felt unbelievably weak. "I want to take a shower."

"Sure," Cora said. She rubbed Sam's arm and said, "Sure, that's something we can definitely do."

#

Sam undressed in her little bathroom, leaving the muddy clothes on her bed for Nina Simone to pick up. She locked the door, stepped into the stall and turned on the hot water. She realized that she didn't have to examine the knobs; she remembered which was hot and which was cold. She remembered the transparent shower curtain, and she tucked her right elbow against her side when she turned so that it wouldn't bump against the shampoo shelf. Muscle memory. That couldn't be faked... could it?

She stepped under the spray and closed her eyes. The water rushed over her face and down her back, cooling her off. Her face had been burning since the 'altercation' in the car. But rejecting the 'escape clause' had apparently done the trick of knocking down her barriers. She was remembering more, so much more. The way Cora held the tip of her pen between her teeth while listening to Sam talk, poking it now and then with her tongue in a very attractive way...

She ran her hands through her hair and focused on the attack five years earlier. She squeezed her eyes closed and focused on the SGC, on the labs at Area 51, on the "Unauthorized off-world activation!" Walter was reading the screen as...

#

...Sam entered the control room. She took the seat next to him and said, "What have we got, Walter?"

"Not sure, ma'am. We haven't received an IDC." He touched his earpiece and glanced at another monitor. "NORAD is picking up ships entering the solar system."

"What kind of ships?" Sam said. She angled the monitor around and saw the read-out. Four ships. "Oh, not good," she said. She turned her chair in the briefing room to face Landry. "Ori ships. Four of them, taking a direct course for Earth. They dialed the Stargate so we can't evacuate. We have to assume they're heading here, sir."

She stepped into the elevator with Cam. "I almost wish I was going with you guys."

Cam smirked. "No, you don't, Carter. This lab stuff, the computer geekery. You live for that."

Sam grinned. "I do. But I like the Star Wars stuff, too. I want all the details."

Cam saluted as he stepped out of the elevator and Sam followed him onto a lower level of Area 51. Instead of Cameron Mitchell, Bill Lee was at her side. She had been up for thirty-eight hours. The Odyssey had taken up position in orbit, and the 302s were ready to scramble and provide defense for the planet. The Ori ships had just passed Jupiter "Guess they weren't too happy about us killing their gods," Cam opined and Landry wanted a second option. That was Sam's job.

She had the benefit of having done it before; she had saved a duplicate Earth from being destroyed by the Ori using Merlin's cloaking device. She knew how to take the entire planet out of phase; she just needed a power source. They were using the Odyssey's ZPM for the moment, with full knowledge it might be beamed up at any time should they need extra power for weapons or shields. Sam hated working with a power supply that might vanish at any second, but there was little she could do about it.

Merlin's device hummed quietly. They could only be cloaked for a finite amount of time and, without knowing how long it would last, they had to wait until the last possible moment to activate the device. Sam's heart was in her throat as she stood before the machine, waiting for the word from the Odyssey.

Colonel Davidson on board Odyssey... "They're overpowering us! 302s are being forced to leave the battle to pursue Ori ships attempting to reach the surface. We suggest enacting the contingency plan!"

General Landry, in Colorado Springs... "You heard the man, Colonel."

Sam reached for the activation switch and froze. The device became every device she had ever jerry-rigged, and the Ori were every threat they had ever faced. General Landry became every commanding officer. "Carter, figure that thing out. No pressure, Carter. Plenty of time. What if the world needs saving because I screwed up because you weren't here in the first place?"

The weight of everyone's expectations fell on her and she couldn't move. She stared at the machine and felt the pressure of General Landry, General O'Neill, Colonel Mitchell, Teal'c, Daniel, Vala, the President, every human on Earth, they were all depending on her to make this damn thing work.

"Colonel Carter!"

Sam lunged for the machine, but it was too late. The signal from the SGC faded in a burst of static. The feeds from NORAD went dead and "Signal Lost" flashed across the static. Sam felt immeasurably cold as, seconds or minutes later, the entire base trembled with the aftereffects of an explosion. Sam gripped the edge of the table to keep from falling over.

"Sam, what the hell just happened?" Cam called over her earpiece.

"Cheyenne Mountain has been destroyed!" another voice reported. "Oh, my God, the entire mountain is... the cloud of ash has reduced visibility to nil. We're--" The message died out in a burst of static and Sam stared at the floor with wide, horrified eyes. She reached for the activation switch and finally turned the device on, but nothing happened. The ZPM was gone, beamed up to the Odyssey where it could do the most help.

The water turned cold and brought Sam back to the present. She wiped her eyes, turned off the shower and stepped out into the cold bathroom. She stood naked in front of the mirror and catalogued her damages. A bruise was spreading on her shoulder, orbited by several vivid red wounds that had been caused by her impact on the road.

She found ointment in the medicine cabinet and applied it to her wounds before she dressed. A bra strap would have irritated the wound, so she didn't bother. She dressed in scrubs again and walked barefoot out into the bedroom. There was a note on the bed from Cora: "Forget 4:30. Meet me whenever you're ready to talk."

Sam put a robe on over her scrubs, put on her slipper-shoes and left the room. She stopped at the nurse's station and asked an orderly where Dr. Foster's office was. The young man found a sheet of paper with a pre-printed map of the hospital, showed her where she was and the easiest route to get to the office. Sam thanked him and followed the corridor to an outside door.

The hospital was made up of three buildings; men's housing, women's housing and the actual psychiatric hospital centered between them. Sam followed the concrete path, hands in her pockets, and thought about the attack. If the SGC had been destroyed, how had the Ori forces been stopped? Had they just destroyed the planet's best line of defense, decided that was enough and turned around? Earth should be overrun with Ori soldiers.

She went into the psychiatric center and followed the orderly's instructions to find Cora's office. "Dr. Cora Foster" was written in gold flake on the wooden door. Sam knocked and hesitantly stuck her head into the waiting room. There was an aquarium next to the door, huge and expensive, and a secretary at a desk angled between the waiting room door and the inside office. There was a couch, two armchairs and a small coffee table across from the aquarium. Sam had a sudden flash of herself, curled against the arm of the couch, watching a goldfish swim in circles. The memory made her look down at her fingers. The thumbnails were fine now, but she had an image of them looking bitten and chewed down to the quick.

"Colonel Carter?"

Sam looked up. A redheaded secretary had just stepped from the inside office and was standing in the doorway with her hand on the knob. She smiled and said, "Colonel, Dr. Foster told me to send you right in as soon as you showed up. She's waiting for you."

Sam nodded and said, "Thank you. Um."

"Miriam, dear."

"I guess you know about... the memory loss."

The secretary, Miriam, nodded and said, "I do, dear. It's all right. I know it's not your fault that you don't remember me."

Sam smiled appreciatively and stepped into the doorway. There was a short corridor and then another door, giving another layer of privacy for the patients. Sam closed the outside door, took three steps and found herself in Cora's office. The desk was against the far wall, and two stuffed armchairs flanking a floor-to-ceiling window. Cora was standing behind the desk, bent over and making a note in the file. She glanced up and smiled when she saw Sam. "Hello. How are you?"

"As well as can be expected," Sam said.

"Were your clothes ruined?"

"No," Sam said. She looked down at her scrubs and said, "I just felt... scrubs would be more comfortable. Besides, I feel like a mental patient. Might as well look like one."

Cora tightened her jaw and came around the edge of the desk. "I want you to stop talking like that right now. Do you understand? I won't have any pity parties in my office. You're getting better. You didn't take the bait your mind planted for you. You should be celebrating."

Sam blinked and finally nodded. She walked to the armchairs and sat in the one closest to the door. She pulled her right leg up under her, put her left foot on the cushion and rested her chin on her knee. Cora took the other seat and said, "What was the escape clause this time?"

"Cameron was the driver of the sedan. He and Teal'c had used the chairs from P7J-989 to hack into a delusion created by Fifth and they were going to take me back to reality."

"Fifth... the Replicator."

Sam nodded. "But he died. Two years ago. My duplicate destroyed him." She offered a weak smile. "My mind must be getting sloppier."

Cora smiled. "One of your delusions was, I believe, that you were in one of those chairs. I think the fact your fantasies have become less realistic is a good sign. It shows that your mind is starting to accept these events."

"It would help if I had a little more information," Sam said. "None of the newspapers I looked at revealed how the Ori attack was turned away."

Cora raised her eyebrows. "That's because it took some time. They beamed their soldiers onto the ground, but they weren't delivered to very tactical positions. A battalion arrived in Saskatchewan, a few beamed to Antarctica to take control of the destroyed outpost site. They, of course, froze to death before any Earth troops even arrived to do battle. The Odyssey held its own. It destroyed two of the Ori ships. The Daedalus and Apollo arrived far too late to help in the initial attack, but the three ships managed to round up the last two Ori ships and, well... I've heard it was basically a slaughter.

"There was some debate about whether the commanders of the vessels - Davidson, Ellis and Caldwell - should be commended or prosecuted for what some people viewed as war crimes... destroying ships that were effectively disabled anyway. But the pictures from Colorado were enough to make sure they got medals instead of a prison sentence."

"What about Atlantis?"

Cora hesitated. "We lost contact with them not long after the attack. Colonel Ellis reported that the city was just... missing. The waters of the planet near where Atlantis was situated were extremely overheated. We may never know what happened. Recently, all members of the expedition were officially listed as killed in action."

"My God," Sam whispered. She looked out the window and pulled her leg closer to her chest. After a long silence, she said, "What happened to the Ori forces on Earth?"

"They were sent to a military prison. They're still there, so far as anyone has been told."

Sam nodded, but didn't seem to be actually listening. She closed her eyes and said, "I remembered what happened in the lab. I froze."

"Ten years of expectations piled up on you," Cora said. "It was bound to happen eventually. I'm shocked it didn't happen sooner."

"It should have," Sam said. "It would have." "They expect miracles, Janet. Honest to God miracles. They want me to walk on water and I just... I can't do it anymore."

"Shh, sweetheart." A soft kiss on her forehead, tender fingers massaging the muscles of her neck. Janet was in silk, Sam was naked and reclining in the bathtub. The bathroom was lit with candles. Janet moved her hands to Sam's neck and kissed her cheek. "All you have to do right now is relax, and try not to drip on the floor when you get out of the tub."

"No problem," Sam said. "I'm never getting out." She reached up and ran a soapy hand over Janet's forearm. "I love you, Janet."

Janet found Sam's lips and kissed her sweetly. Sam moaned into the kiss and Janet said, "I love you, too. You could be the dumbest woman on Earth and I would still love you."

There were tears in Sam's eyes as the weight was slowly lifted from her shoulders. "You mean it?"

"Yeah. I mean, I would hide you when my friends came over..."

Sam smiled and settled against the corner of the tub. "Get in here with me." Janet stood and shed her nightgown. She draped it over the shower rod, pointed one toe and let it sink into the bubbles. Sam drew Janet to her and Janet settled against Sam's body. Sam pressed her face into Janet's hair, inhaled, and laced her fingers together over Janet's stomach. "What was I upset about earlier?"

"I don't remember," Janet said, her voice already slow with sleepiness.

"Me neither," Sam said.

"Sam?"

Sam looked up. Cora was watching her. "Sorry. I was just remembering."

"Janet?"

"Oh. Right, I've told you about us."

Cora nodded. "She sounded like a godsend. She kept you sane. Grounded. Her death must have been devastating to you."

Sam nodded slowly. "I came apart. I latched onto the first person who came along... a guy my brother knew. I tried to make it work for as long as I could, but it fell apart, too. He wasn't what I wanted. What I needed." She looked down at her thumbs and resolved not to chew them. She wrapped her arms around herself, hiding her hands under her arms. "I broke up with him, broke off our engagement and tried to leave the SGC. Maybe if I had stayed away..." She laughed sourly. "Well, if I had stayed away, nothing would have been different, right? I might as well have not been there for all the good I did at Area 51."

"If you hadn't been there, perhaps the attack would have happened much sooner. Maybe it would have been Apophis or Ba'al or Anubis leading the charge. You have no reason to feel responsible for..."

"I was able to do it before," Sam snapped. "I activated the device and I saved an alternate world from being destroyed."

"You weren't emotionally connected to that world. The pressure here was..."

"I would have died either way," Sam said. "Emotionally connected or not, on the other world an Ori beam went straight through my body. They would have killed me if I hadn't acted." She looked at the window again and said, "I wish they had done the same thing here. It would have served me right."

Cora looked down at her pen and played with the clip on the end. Her voice was quiet when she started to speak. "It worries me when you talk like that, Samantha, it really does. Because it makes me worry that you might do something drastic."

"I'm not going to hurt myself."

"But you did." Sam looked at her. "That's another thing I didn't want to tell you. Not long after the attacks, when everyone was calling you a hero. You got drunk, you got on your motorcycle and you drove a hundred and twenty miles an hour straight off-road. You broke your arm and both legs. You weren't wearing a helmet. It was nothing short of a suicide attempt. It's what prompted you to come to the hospital in the first place."

Sam shuddered.

Cora leaned forward and held out her hand. "I want you to let me help you get better. I want you to let me do what you came here for."

Sam stared at the manicured nails for a second and then took the doctor's hand. "I would like that, Cora. I would really like that a lot."

#

They spent the rest of Sam's hour-long session talking about the past five years. It was like Sam was being reminded of a movie she had seen years ago. Cora would start to tell a story and, halfway through, Sam would remember part or all of where she was going. It was disconcerting, to say the least. After a while, Cora looked at her watch and said, "I think that about does it for today." She capped her pen and slid to the edge of her seat. "Do you want me to walk you back to your room?"

"Don't you have other patients?"

"I didn't know when you would show up, so I sort of... rescheduled this afternoon's sessions."

Sam said, "You know that's suspicious, right? If I were to start believing this was all a play put on for my benefit, a psychiatrist with a completely open schedule would set off alarms."

Cora smiled. "Well, I'll just tell my alien overlords to start making me unavailable, then."

Sam held the fierce look as long as she could, but then she smiled and ducked her head. Cora chuckled and said, "In all honesty, Sam, I do tend to jump through hoops for you. I care for you deeply." "A lot more than I'm supposed to," echoed in her mind. "I... I've told you this before, but I was awestruck by those articles about you. I made it my mission to guide you back to health. To help get you back to being that woman I had read about."

They stood and Sam said, "I'm touched. Really. But I'm not sure that woman exists anymore."

"If she doesn't," Cora said, "then we'll have to suffice with the one that took her place. The strong, confident woman who fought her way back to health after an extremely traumatic event." She took Sam's hand and squeezed. "Will that do?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "I think I can live with that."

"Come on." They left the office together and Cora stopped to turn to Miriam. "If anyone calls, tell them I'll be back in about fifteen minutes."

Miriam nodded. "Yes, Dr. Foster." She leaned to one side so she could see Sam. "It's good to see you back, Colonel!"

"Thank you," Sam said.

Cora led Sam out of the office, and out of the psychiatric building. As soon as they were outside, Sam stopped and Cora turned to look at her. "Sam? Is everything all right?"

Sam stood still, head turned to the sky, and closed her eyes. Cora released Sam's hand and stepped in front of her. "Sam? Talk to me."

"I used to do this all the time," Sam whispered. She opened her eyes and squinted into the brightness of the early afternoon sun. "Just stand outside and stare up at the sky. I would usually do it at night. I had the stars over our house memorized. I used to lie out on the back porch and watch the stars move so slow across the sky. I don't look anymore. I hardly even notice. When I do look, I wonder if there are any ships up there, if I can see the sun I blew up... I never just stop and look at it anymore."

"You're looking now," Cora said.

Sam looked down at the doctor. Her eyes sparkled behind her glasses, her lips curled in a slight smile as she watched Sam. Sam smiled, put her hand on the back of Cora's head and pulled her in for a kiss. Cora gasped as Sam's lips touched hers, her hands instinctively going to Sam's shoulders. Sam brushed her tongue across Cora's lips and pulled back. Cora was left gasping, lips parted and eyes wide with shock. "Sorry," Sam said softly. She slipped her hand out of Cora's hair and stepped away from her.

Cora recovered, smoothed down the front of her blouse and glanced around to see if anyone was looking. She touched the tip of her tongue to the corner of her mouth and said, "Wow, um..."

"I shouldn't have done that in public," Sam said. "God knows how often I had to--" Sam reached for the file and the corner of her hand brushed Janet's. Janet glanced up and they locked eyes for the briefest of seconds. Sam turned and handed the file to O'Neill as Janet went back to her patient. "--restraint myself to the slightest of touches. No public displays of affection. But I... just had to... I don't know..."

"I understand, Sam. It's all right."

Sam looked at Cora and another puzzle piece fell into place. "I kiss you a lot. Don't I?"

Cora's cheeks reddened and she cleared her throat. "Pretty much during every recovery you... make some gesture."

"I hate to think I'm becoming predictable."

"No!" Cora said. She laughed and said, "No, it's... it's always quite a surprise. But people have witnessed it before. They know it's a... quirk of your recovery. No one thinks anything of it, so long as it doesn't... go further." She ducked her chin and looked up at Sam. "You understand, right?"

"I do," Sam said.

"But thank you. It's always... nice."

Sam ducked her head and they started walking again. She was very aware of Cora's hand in her own, of how close they were walking. When they got to Sam's room, Nina and Simone were away from the desk and the station was deserted. Sam opened the door, pulled Cora inside and pushed her against the wall. "Sam," Cora breathed just before Sam closed her mouth with another kiss. She ran her hands down the front of Cora's blouse, cupping her breasts and pressing her leg between the doctor's thighs.

Sam released the clasp in Cora's hair and let it fall against her shoulders. When she pulled back to change the angle of attack, Cora breathed, "No, Sam, wait, wait..."

Sam pressed her forehead against Cora's and breathed heavily. "What?"

"I don't want this."

"Cora..."

Cora put her hands on Sam's hips and pushed her away. She took a shaky breath and looked Sam in the eyes. "I meant what I said when I told you we had never slept together. It's never gone beyond a kiss or two. And it won't. I cannot allow it."

Sam took a step back and touched the back of her hand to her lips. "I understand. I'm sorry."

"I am, too," Cora said. She straightened her blouse and said, "I'll see you at our next session. Friday at three."

"Okay," Sam said quietly. She opened her door and stepped back so Cora could leave. Cora stopped just outside the room and turned. "I don't want to seem a tease, and I don't want to lead you on. But the reason I didn't warn you about your... friendliness is because I... enjoy it. As much as I can't let it go farther, as much as I hate myself for it. I do enjoy being kissed by you, Samantha."

Sam looked down, her hair covering her eyes. When she looked up again, Cora was gone and the door to the nurse's station was swinging shut. Sam exhaled and closed the door to her room.

#

She changed out of her scrubs and put on jeans and a T-shirt to walk the grounds. She went to the common room and looked at her options. Three armchairs and a wide sofa were aimed at the television. John O'Hurley was hosting a game show, and Sam bypassed the entertainment center to a row of folding tables under the window. Chess boards had been set up, pieces silently positioned and waiting for someone to come and play. She reached down and touched the round head of one pawn, and was about to withdraw her hand when a voice behind her said, "Ha!"

Sam jumped and turned around. A woman in a green robe and graying hair was hurrying toward her from the seating area. She had a handful of her robe in one hand so she wouldn't trip over it, the crooked index finger of her other hand pointing accusingly at Sam's. "Ha! You touched it, you gotta play it. No backing out this time, Colonel." The woman dropped into the seat behind the white pieces, folding her robe in her lap and smiled up at Sam. "So go ahead, Bobby Fischer, make your move."

Sam looked down at the game board and said, "I don't... I'm not sure what you're talking about."

The woman blew air past pursed lips and shook her head. Gray hairs whipped around her face and she said, "No, no. You're not getting out of this with another 'I lost my memory and don't remember you, Emma.' Nope. I'm wise to you." She waved a gnarled hand at the board. "If you want to forfeit, lay down your queen and make it official. Otherwise, play."

Sam looked at the pawn under her hand, looked at the woman, and turned to lower herself into the opposite chair. "You would like that, wouldn't you?" She played the pawn and leaned back. "Make your move. Emma, was it?"

Emma gave a wide grin and rubbed her hands together as she bent over the playing table.

They played a slow, methodical game. Emma's smile faded as she began focusing on her moves, no longer expending the energy to psych Sam out. About halfway through the game, an orderly walked over and said, "I thought you said you would never play Emma again, Colonel?"

Sam smiled, but Emma said, "She forgot how badly I kick her ass. Shoo before you jinx me."

Sam ended up winning the game and Emma gave a deep, exasperated sigh. She swept the hair out of her eyes and fixed a steady, laser-beam gaze across the table. "Okay, that was the freebie. You're sick and lost your memory, so I gave you that one."

"Oh, really?" Sam said, setting the pieces back up as she knew was the game room policy.

Emma nodded. "The next time we play, I'll wipe the floor with you."

"I look forward to it," Sam said, surprised to find she meant it. Emma stood and walked away, moving and swooping her robe behind her like a cape. The orderly from earlier came up and helped Sam set the board back up. "Does she ever win?" Sam asked in a quiet voice.

"Oh, yeah," the orderly said. "I figure it's about eighty-twenty in your favor, though. Doesn't stop her trash-talking."

Sam looked over her shoulder to see Emma had planted herself in front of whatever game show was currently on. "What is she in here for? If you can say."

The orderly hesitated, then shrugged. "She's told you enough times, I'm sure it's all right. She was a long-haul truck driver. Got a bit groggy at the wheel one night, ran into a station wagon. Two kids in the backseat, parents in the front. All of 'em killed instantly. She couldn't handle it, so she just kind of retreated into her own world. She's getting better now."

Sam winced and looked at the old woman currently engrossed in 'Wheel of Fortune.' "Sad," she said.

The orderly nodded and finished setting up the pieces. Sam looked at the board, decided she didn't want to bother with another game, and pushed herself up. She went to one of the windows and peered down at the grounds. She was surprised to see it was late afternoon, the sun low in the sky and casting a golden veil over the window. Still, she could see a man on a riding lawnmower was slowly making his way along the far fence, and that most of the benches along the path were vacant. Probably hard to visit with friends and family when the lawnmower was droning in your ear.

To her left, she saw the swinging door that led to the isolation ward. The padded room where she had come back to her senses with no memory of the past five years. She shuddered as she walked to the door and peered in through the small pane of glass above the knob. The rooms looked innocuous, which only made them more sinister in her mind. Was anyone in there now? Wailing to be released?

She backed away from the door and walked back to her room. She said hello to Nina and Simone, who were gossiping behind the desk counter. Simone said, "If we brought you dinner, would you eat it?"

"I would eat two," Sam promised.

"Well, I can't promise that. But I'll see what I can do."

Sam went into her room and sat at the desk. The pile of newspaper and magazines about the attack and the aftermath. She pulled one at random and flipped it open. Her heart dropped when she saw that it was a review of a movie. Apparently, two years after the attack, a fictionalized version of the SGC had been released as a major motion picture called Through the Looking Glass. She forced herself to scan the article for the cast list.

Ed Harris as General O'Neill? A little old, but she supposed it could work. Matt Damon as Daniel. No, no way. She tried to picture the actor with glasses, debating the rights and morals of alien life, but she couldn't. Laurence Fishburne as Teal'c... yeah, she could definitely see that. And playing the part of Colonel Samantha Carter...

Kristen Bell. Who was that? She knew she had heard the name. She flipped through until she found a cast picture. The four actors were positioned in front of a Stargate, the sun rising over a planet on the other side. "Through the Looking Glass" was written in slanted gray letters over their heads.

Ed Harris was in front, naturally, wearing a Hollywood version of their BDUs. The collar was up against his cheek, his eyes looking out of the poster and over her left shoulder. Laurence Fishburne was at the far left behind 'Jack,' his profile turned to the camera. He wore the hood of a Jaffa robe bunched around his throat and his eyes were closed as if he was praying. Matt Damon was on the opposite side, eyes wide behind a pair of eyeglasses. His lips were pursed and he looked as if he had just realized the secret of life. Sam smiled. Okay. Maybe he was a decent choice.

The 'Sam' character, Kristen Bell, was next to Ed Harris. She wore the same uniform and was looking at Jack with... what, lust? God, they might as well have had her clinging to his leg in a pink taffeta gown. Her blonde hair was cut short and blowing in an unseen wind, and Sam suddenly realized who Kristen Bell was.

"Veronica Mars?" she gasped. "They got Veronica Mars to play me?" She leaned back. How old could the girl be? 25 at the outside? Sam stared at the picture in shock, and then slowly began to laugh. There was a knock on the door and Sam wiped her eyes. "Come in."

"Everything all right, Colonel Carter?" Simone asked.

Sam sniffled and said, "Yeah. Hey, Simone. How old would you say Kristen Bell is? You know, the actress."

Simone leaned against the door frame and said, "I know who she is, because you ask me that pretty much every time you reset yourself. So I looked it up online. When she made that movie, she was thirty years old."

"Thank you, Simone."

The nurse nodded and said, "Dinner will be in about twenty minutes."

"Thank you," Sam said again.

She looked at the paper and laughed. Leave it to Hollywood to cast some thirty-year-old waif who... She blinked and straightened. She did backwards math and realized that she had been thirty when she started going through the Stargate. Had it been that long? Had she been that young? She suddenly felt extremely old. She pushed a hand through her hair and pushed the movie review away. She didn't want to think about it anymore.

She leaned back in her chair, rubbed her face and focused on remembering something, anything, from the last five years.

"Ahem."

She leaned forward and threaded her fingers through her hair. She rested her elbows on the edge of the desk and closed her eyes, reaching back into her mind for the memories she had already recovered. Bits and pieces, thoughts and images, things that--

"She's ignoring me."

"Shut up," Sam hissed. She stood up, ignoring the people on her bed as she went into the bathroom. She used the toilet, washed her hands and took time pressing the towel against her face. When she came out, the room was still occupied. She ducked her chin, forced herself to look at the floor and walked confidently back to her desk. She sat with her back to the room and tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on the back of her neck.

She flipped through the newspapers without reading them, trying to focus on anything other than what she had seen. There was a knock at the door and she called for Simone to come in. The nurse came in with a tray and Sam didn't turn around. "Bring it on over here, please."

"Sure, sure." Out of the corner of her eye, Sam saw the bed was still occupied. Simone obviously didn't see them. She didn't want to ask, for she felt that 'do you see anyone else in the room' was a very loaded question in a psychiatric hospital. She accepted the food, thanked Simone and turned to eat it. When she finished her meal, she would feel better and the--

"I wouldn't eat that. Could have pills or something in it." Sam jerked away as the hallucination's face peered over her shoulder. "What is that, anyway?"

"Vala," Daniel chided.

Sam closed her eyes and balled her hands into fists. "You're not real," she whispered. She swallowed hard and pressed her fingernails into the heels of her hand.

"Yes, we are," Daniel said. "And I know, I know... 'hallucinations always say that'."

Sam looked at Vala, who smiled in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring way. Sam looked at Daniel. "We've had this conversation before?"

"No," Daniel said. "Someone else. A very... very long time ago." He got off the bed and said, "Sorry to come to you like this, but..."

"The Replicators are using my real body as building material?" Sam said. "The Wraith are feeding on me and this is all just a fantasy?"

Daniel shook his head. "No, Sam. This is all real."

"Can you prove it?"

"It's too horrible to be a lie," Vala said quietly. Sam looked at her and saw real pain in her eyes. She had to look away before she started crying herself. She wiped at her eyes and focused on Daniel. "All right. So this is real. Why didn't Simone see you?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Glowy jellyfish," Vala said.

"You ascended?" Sam looked at Vala. "You ascended."

Vala looked offended. She lifted her chin and shrugged. "What of it?"

Daniel cleared his throat. "There was a moment. An instant before the Ori beam hit Cheyenne Mountain. It's, ah, difficult to explain. Oma Desala intervened. She offered ascension to any who desired it, regardless of their 'true path.' Kind of a get-out-of-death free card." He smiled and shrugged. "About two-thirds of the people on the base ascended. Including me and Vala."

"She just... ascended you," Sam said. "Isn't that a little strange?"

"Well, it's not a verb," Daniel said. "But basically, yes. It's not like she hasn't done it before. Remember Abydos? She gave everyone a free pass to save their lives when Anubis destroyed the planet. This was the same deal."

"So why are you here?"

"Because you're getting better, Sam." He stepped closer and said, "You've been through hell. You need to stop doing this to yourself."

"Doing what?"

"Sabotaging your recovery. Every time you make progress and accept what happened, your mind shuts down and resets. This memory loss is something you do to yourself, Sam. We've watched it happen time and again, but I think it's time you allow yourself to find peace. You've suffered long enough."

Sam was looking at her lap. "Have I? Should I be happy that two-thirds of the people I slaughtered are still alive?"

"You should stop punishing yourself," Daniel said. "The people of Earth owe you a debt they can never hope to repay. And they know that they owe it now. At the very least, you've earned the benefit of the doubt."

Sam's voice was a whisper. "How can I forgive myself?"

Vala said, "You just have to realize that you don't have to."

"There was no guarantee if the device would work, or how long it would last," Daniel said. "If the Odyssey hadn't been able to beam up the ZPM, they might not have had the power to destroy the Ori ships. Then, if the device had failed and Earth came back into phase, the Ori would have turned their attention on us anyway. And there would have been no one to stop them, Sam. Do you know how many people have gone over the attack? How many times it has been dissected and analyzed? Yes, many people died. Yes, it was a tragedy. But it could have been far worse."

"I'm going to have a hard time accepting that."

"That's what it will take," Daniel said. "Time, patience... which you'll have more than enough of when you decide to stop fighting yourself. Let it go, Sam."

Sam closed her eyes and she felt a cool wind blow over her. When she looked again, her room was empty and her visitors were gone. She turned around in her chair, looked at her dinner and slowly began to eat.

#

She lay in bed that night, under the covers, and thought about her past life as a scientist. She had worked miracles. She had done the impossible. Creating a computer that would calculate interstellar drift so they could get stable locks with the Stargate. Bypassing safety protocols put in place by a race of people so far ahead of humans that it wasn't funny. Figuring out countless alien devices hours or days after she had first discovered it existed.

So many brilliant feats, could all of them really be overshadowed by one particularly public failure? What would McKay say about that? For God's sake, the man would have found a way to make his failure into a success. Dr. Lee had distracted him or there had been a power surge. He wouldn't have let it destroy his life this way.

Maybe Daniel and Vala were right. Maybe it was time to forgive herself, to move on. "What do you think, Janet?" she said softly.

"About what?" Janet was on the couch, her finger marking her place in the paperback novel. She shifted slightly, crossed one leg over the other and smoothed her skirt against her thigh. The move was incredibly arousing, a flash of the top of her stocking and the dancing muscles of her upper leg so briefly in view. Sam stared for a moment and then focused on what she had asked.

"I allowed my naquadah reactor to be used as a bomb," she said solemnly. "I created it as an energy source. I let it be transported to a ship, where it was supposed to wipe out an entire civilization. How am I supposed to live with myself?"

Janet put her book aside and stood up, her dress doing another enticing sway around her lower body. She walked to Sam's chair, straddled her lap and sat down. Sam cupped Janet's ass, more for support than to grope, and Janet leaned in. She kissed Sam's forehead between the eyebrows and said, "You get up tomorrow and you go to work. You do the absolute best you can. You come home, make love to your girlfriend. And you do the same thing the next day."

"So you'll definitely be here tomorrow?"

Janet nuzzled Sam's cheek. "Every tomorrow I have is yours," Janet said.

Sam wiped her cheeks and tried to stop crying. The memories were flooding back, of happier times at the SGC and with Janet. She slid her hand across her thigh and put her hand between her legs, focusing on Janet again. The way Janet's hair fell across her shoulder, the way she would stand at the bathroom vanity in her skirt and a bra, putting on make-up for some big night out or another. A happy birthday in a restaurant bathroom, coming on Janet's hand and kissing her so hard she was afraid of breaking a tooth.

As Sam touched herself through her underwear, she thought back to the mountains. They had gone hiking before the sun even came up, the dew was freezing on the grass. Janet had slipped her hands under Sam's coat, icy against her back, but it was perfectly fine. They had kissed, the kisses becoming hungrier, until Sam's jeans were undone and Janet's fingers were pushing her slowly toward climax.

When she came, she returned the favor, lying on the ground the sun was just starting to warm. Janet had cried during her climax, and they had held and stroked each other, trying to make the moment last. Sam took the boot-strap from her wrist, the one she had worn for over a year, and wrapped it around Janet's slender wrist. They never mentioned it, what that simple green strap meant, but they knew.

Sam squeezed her thighs together against her hand and came. She whispered, "Janet... Janet," as she had every night since meeting the petite brunette doctor. She rolled onto her side, blinking slowly at the shadow against her wall. She could see the low fence at the far end of the hospital grounds.

Without consciously thinking about it, she threw the blankets aside and sat up. She dressed in a dark blue sweater and jeans, put on the heaviest pair of sneakers in her foot locker, and went to the door of her room. She opened the door as quietly as she could and peered out. A night nurse was at the desk, charting and listening to the radio. Sam could vaguely hear the sound of Bill Haley and the Comets rocking around the clock. She slipped from her room and clasped her hand across her stomach. She moved to the front of the desk and said, "Excuse me. I'm about to starve to death... I missed dinner yesterday and tonight's was... well, it was good, but not enough. I was wondering if I could head to the cafeteria and grab a bite."

The nurse hesitated, but finally gave her a nod. "Okay. Don't stay out all night."

"I won't," Sam promised. She walked past the desk to the common room, and went through the swinging doors. She moved quickly across the dark room, avoiding obstacles like chairs and tables with the ease of someone who had lived among them for five years. She went down the short corridor that led to the front of the building, where patients could greet their guests from the outside world.

The glass door next to the main entrance was propped open with the corner of a planter. Sam pressed against the wall and peered out. Two orderlies were standing ten feet away, under the glow of a security light. They were smoking cigarettes, gesturing wildly as they spoke. She wished for a hat, but it couldn't be helped now. She slipped through the door, easing it back into place against the planter. The orderlies remained oblivious, but now she could make out their conversation.

"...didn't have to go like that, man. Girl needs to lighten up. You know?"

Sam backed away from the door slowly and let the shadows conceal her. When she deemed that she was far enough away from the orderlies, she stepped onto the grass and started to jog. The security lights from the building were bright enough for her to see, but, she hoped, they weren't bright enough for anyone to see her. If this was going to work, she had to slip away with no one seeing her.

She reached the fence and followed it until she found the gardening shed. The lawnmower she had seen earlier was parked behind the building, and she hesitated before climbing onto it. Is this too convenient? she wondered. Maybe the fact it's here, right where I need it, is evidence that this is all a fantasy.

Regardless, she put her foot on the seat, turned, and grabbed the top of the fence. She took a deep breath and hoisted herself up and over. She released the fence, hit the ground on the other side and rolled to a stop. The move opened the wounds on her shoulder, and she reached up to press her hand against it through her shirt. She stayed still for a moment, waiting for sounds of pursuit from the direction of the hospital. So far, so good.

The hospital was surrounded by woodland, so she slipped into the trees and stopped to get her bearings. She pictured her room in relation to the front of the hospital and the outside road. She pictured the hospital from above, figured out where she was, and turned to her right. She tried to make as little noise as possible through the brush, keeping her hands out in front of her to keep from running into low-hanging branches or unseen tree trunks.

When she reached the edge of the forest, she dropped to her knees and stared out at the street. She highly doubted anyone would pick up a hitchhiker this close to what most people must think of as a mental hospital, so she had to put some distance between her and her 'prison' before she tried to catch a ride. That was fine; she needed time to prepare before she got a ride anyway.

Sam followed the edge of the road at a casual pace, hoping if anyone spotted her they would think she was just a suburbanite out for a walk. She reached an intersection and saw exactly what she was hoping for; an all-night convenience store, lit up like an oasis in the desert. She crossed the street and ran past the gas pumps to the front door. She pulled it open, stepped inside and took a quick inventory.

Gum lined the shelves under the cash register, and the candy aisles were angled to her right. Random supplies - oil, batteries, flashlights - lined the shelves to the left. The bored clerk behind the counter glanced up from his newspaper and said, "Help ya?"

"Bathroom?" Sam asked.

The clerk nodded to the back of the store. She thanked him and moved between the aisles. The bathrooms were in a small alcove, behind a swinging door. She didn't need the bathroom, she needed what was between them; a payphone. She pulled the phone book out of the cubby hole beneath the phone and flipped it open. Her heart pounded as she scanned the directory. Her finger trembled as it slid down the list of names. Finally, she found it.

Foster, Cora 4431 Newport Terrace ....... 253-602-0219

She memorized the address and number, returned the book to the cubby, and left the alcove. She raised her hand in farewell to the clerk and stepped back out into the night. Now the difficult part. She had to find someone willing to pull over for her, someone who knew the area. She turned away from the hospital and started walking, closing her eyes and hoping that a truck would happen by.

She knew the paradox of what she wanted. She wanted, needed, to do this to prove to herself that this world was real. But in order to prove it, she needed far too many coincidences, too many convenient assists from fate, which would serve to prove it was a fantasy. She looked down at the ground and watched as her shoes kicked aside pebbles, listened to the scrape of her soles against the rough side of the road. The night air was fresh, cold and clear, and she wondered if she could possibly imagine a detail like that. Even if she could, why would she?

Sam turned and looked the way she had come. The hospital was lit up like a castle in the forest, a ship adrift in a sea of evergreens. It looked the right distance away. It hadn't suddenly vanished and she hadn't magically traveled a million miles like in dreams. It all felt so real. She was so close to convinced, she could feel herself on the precipice. She just needed this one last piece of information, this one final test to prove to herself beyond a shadow of a doubt.

She pushed herself onward, ever forward, even though her body was weak from a lack of sleep and exhaustion. She was about to sit down and rest her legs - her whole body, in fact, she ached everywhere - when a siren whooped behind her. She stopped and turned, raising her hand to block her eyes against the harsh light of the squad car's headlights.

The car came to a stop and a police officer stepped out of the driver's side door. "Everything all right, ma'am?"

"It's fine," she assured him. "I'm just... I'm taking a walk."

"Without a coat? At midnight?" He slammed the car door and raised a flashlight. "You have some ID, ma'am?"

His flashlight came up to her face and his feet skittered on the asphalt of the road. Sam took a chance. "I'm Colonel Samantha Carter, of the United States Air Force. I left my ID at the hotel, but..."

"Hell, ma'am, I know who you are. What the hell are you doing out here by yourself?"

"It's a long story," Sam said. You have no idea just how long. "I need to go to an address. Do you know where Newport Terrace is?"

He aimed his flashlight down the road. "About five miles thattaway. You need a lift?"

"Yes," Sam said. "That would be extremely helpful, thank you."

They walked back to the squad car and Sam got into the front seat next to the deputy. He shut his door and pulled back onto the road. "Wow. Ma'am, I'm truly sorry about that. We got a loony bin not far from here, so I'm always..."

"It's fine," Sam said, bristling at the man's term. "I understand."

He cleared his throat and drove in silence for about half a mile before he couldn't contain himself. "You know, my wife just loves you. Our daughter is thinking about joining the Air Force because of you. No lie. They ain't going to believe I had you in my car."

"You... want an autograph?"

"Oh, hell, ma'am, I couldn't ask that."

"It would be my pleasure," Sam said. "The least I can do. You saved me a five-mile trek, right?"

He slapped the steering wheel and shook his head. "Well, all right. All right. You just made my night, ma'am."

"It's Sam," she said. "Please."

He shook his head. "Colonel Carter, maybe. I'd be fine with that if you are. I mean, the thing in Antarctica, with the chair..."

"That was General O'Neill," Sam snapped. She wasn't going to take credit for other people's accomplishments. It felt weird enough being praised for the things she actually had done.

"Right. Sorry." He reached down into the console and withdrew a notebook. "If you don't mind... that autograph? To Jenny and Kelly."

Sam took the notebook and used the deputy's pen to sign her name. "To Jenny and Kelly. Good luck with the Air Force!" She shrugged and handed the pen back. "Here you go."

The deputy whooped and shook his head. "They're going to die. They're going to die, Colonel Carter, just you bet. When we get where you're going, I'll just take a real quick Polaroid, if that's okay with you."

"Fine," Sam said. She was getting sick of the fanboy. "It's 4431 Newport."

The deputy nodded. They drove through the streets quietly and the deputy said, "Can I ask you a question?"

Sam nearly rolled her eyes. "Sure."

"Well, you were a Goa'uld..."

"Tok'ra."

"Right. And then you were a Replicator. But you were never one of those Ori guys, right?"

"We defeated them too quickly," Sam said.

The deputy laughed. "One of the perils of being so good, huh? I guess so, I guess so." Sam saw a street sign that said Newport and breathed a sigh of relief. The cop pulled onto the street and slowed, turning on a side-mounted spotlight and slowly running it across the homes they passed. He made a 'tsk' sound with his tongue and teeth and said, "Ah, here we go. Forty-four hunnerts. Forty-four twenty..." They turned a corner and pulled into a cul-de-sac. "Here we are. Four-four-three-one." He parked across the driveway and unfastened his seat belt.

Sam got out and the deputy joined her on the sidewalk with an ancient Polaroid camera. Sam stepped up close to him and forced a smile as he held the camera out in front of them. He smiled, shook his head and said, "Jenny is just going... to... die."

He snapped off the picture and Sam said, "Thank you for the ride, Deputy. I'm afraid I have to go now."

"No problem, no problem. Take care, Colonel."

She waved him good-bye and started up the drive. She waited until the deputy had pulled away - waving to her through the window - before she stepped onto the porch and rang the bell. She stepped back so that Cora could see her through the peephole and chewed her thumbnail. Her heart pounded, her face flushed. She swallowed hard when the porch light came on. She heard the tumblers flipping and looked up as the door swung open.

Cora looked naked without her glasses, and the front of her robe was hanging open enough so that Sam could see the lacy top of her chemise. Her hair was a rat's next, the side of her face a mess of wrinkles from her pillow. She blinked sleep-bleary eyes at Sam and pushed a wave of dark hair out of her eyes. "Samantha?" she gasped. She stepped out onto the porch and said, "Samantha, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I had to see," Sam whispered. "I had to... I had to know if it was a set-up." There were tears burning in her eyes and she was afraid she would start crying if she stopped talking. "I thought I would get out. I thought if I ran, and went where no one expected, then I could either catch whoever was running the simulation unaware and it would either... prove to be fake or real." She inhaled and blinked at Cora. "It's real. I woke you up. I'm sorry."

"You did wake me up," Cora said. She pulled the robe tighter around herself and said, "And it is real." She stepped closer. "Are you all right, Sam?"

"No," Sam breathed.

Cora held her arms out and drew Sam to her. Sam buried her face in Cora's hair and sobbed. It was all real. The deaths, the destruction, the end of the world as she knew it and it was all her fault. She said, "I'm never going to get over this. I'm never going to get better."

Cora was smiling against Sam's shoulder. "Oh, Samantha, you have no idea how much better you are already." She stepped back. "You've never made it this far before. You've never shown this level of acceptance before having a drastic relapse."

"So I'm getting better?" Sam said hopefully.

Cora stepped back and smoothed down Sam's hair. "I don't want to give you false hope. But I think you're closer than you've been in the five years since I've known you."

Sam nodded. "Then you're fired."

Cora blinked. "I'm what?"

"I'm going to leave the hospital. I don't want you to be my doctor anymore"

"Sam..."

Sam stepped forward and kissed Cora. The doctor gasped, allowing Sam's tongue into her mouth. They tangled in the open doorway for a while, then Cora turned them and pressed Sam against the wall. She put her hands against the wall and pushed herself back, looking at Sam with half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. "I suppose," she whispered, licked her lips and swallowed hard, "if need be, I can just tell myself it was a dream in the morning..."

"Yeah," Sam said. She cupped the back of Cora's head and they kissed hard, passionately, Cora's hands moving to the front of Sam's sweater. She cupped Sam's breasts in her hands and Sam grunted, arching her back into the caress.

Cora gasped, "Wait, we have to stop..."

"No," Sam whimpered. "Cora, please..."

"Not permanently," Cora said. She pushed away from the wall, taking a moment to look down Sam's body. She sighed and touched Sam's cheek. "I've spent five years forcing myself not to look at you."

Sam turned her head to press against Cora's touch. Cora moved back and walked into the living room, leaving Sam to follow her. She turned on a lamp next to an armchair and picked up the telephone. She dialed a number and waited as the other end rang. Sam leaned against the wall and looked at Cora; the tan legs stretching out underneath the end of her robe, the way she was blinking her eyes to try and wake up. She felt a twinge of desire and had to look down at her own feet to restrain herself. Finally, the person on the other end of the phone answered. "Yes, hello, Janice. This is Dr. Foster. I wanted to let you know I had picked up Colonel Carter, but I forgot to sign her out. Yes, I know. I was preoccupied at the time and... yes. It was..." She looked up at Sam, who mouthed the time she had left the hospital. "It was about an hour ago. I meant to sign her out for the whole evening. Thank you very much, Janice." She hung up and turned to face Sam.

"The whole evening?" Sam said, still looking down at the floor.

"Well," Cora said, sounding suddenly shy. "We do have to sleep eventually. Right?"

Sam looked up and met Cora's eyes. They kept eye contact as they kissed, until Cora tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss. Sam cupped the back of Cora's neck and massaged gently, making Cora sigh contently. She pulled back, her bottom lip caught by Sam's teeth, and ran her hands up Sam's sides to her breasts. She kneaded them with her fingers, well aware by now that Sam was naked underneath the sweater, and pulled back to look at Sam. "You're sure about this?"

Sam unknotted the belt of Cora's robe and spread the halves apart. Her silk chemise was peach-colored, cut low on the chest and high on the leg. Sam breathed in deeply through her nose, bowed her head and pressed her lips to the flat part of Cora's chest. "Yes," she said, kissing a line along Cora's collarbone.

Cora lifted Sam's head, kissed her hard and pushed her tongue into Sam's mouth. Sam took it eagerly, sucking the tip as she slid her arms around the doctor's waist. Cora moaned and thrust her hips forward as Sam's fingers dug into her ass, pulling up her nightgown. They pulled back and looked into each other's eyes, breathing heavily as Sam pulled the flimsy material up. Cora swallowed hard, dipped her chin in acknowledgement and stepped back.

She dropped the robe to the floor and Sam was momentarily distracted by Cora's bare shoulders crossed by the twined straps of her chemise. Sam bent down and kissed the curve of her shoulder, moving her lips to Cora's neck as she eased the nightgown up her body. Cora lifted her arms over her head and Sam pulled back to completely remove the chemise.

Cora brought her arms down over her breasts and looked at Sam without blinking. Sam returned the stare, gently circled Cora's wrists with her hands and pulled her arms away. Sam looked down and took stock of Cora's beautiful body; her full breasts, the dark nipples, the thick patch of black hair between her legs... her stomach was flat, but not overly toned. There was a dimpled scar on her lower abdomen and Sam said, "Appendix?"

"What?" A wrinkle formed between Cora's eyebrows, and she was trembling. Sam nodded at the scar and Cora looked down. "Oh. No, that was a part of a chain-link fence. I fell on it when I was eight." Sam moved her hands down and traced the line of the scar. She used the pad of her thumb to draw a line from it to Cora's navel. "Sam," Cora gasped.

Sam pushed her hand down and spun them. She pressed Cora against the wall, spread her legs with a sweep of her foot, and moved her hand down. She cupped her hand between Cora's thighs and looked down, watching as her middle finger pressed against the risen nub of Cora's clit. She licked the thumb of her other hand, sucking it slowly, and then switched hands. She pressed her wet thumb against Cora's clit and the brunette jerked violently against the wall. "Jesus," she whispered.

Sam was breathing heavily as she used her thumb to draw slow circles, her index finger curled and the knuckle brushed against Cora's labia. Cora's body jerked and she threaded her fingers together behind Sam's neck. She lifted her leg and hooked it against Sam's hip, thrusting against Sam's hand. "Fuck," she gasped. Her voice, in the throes of passion, had become higher-pitched than Sam could ever remember hearing. Sam leaned in and kissed Cora hard, but Cora turned her head away to speak. "I'm going to come!"

"Cora," Sam gasped. She kissed the curve of Cora's jaw, bit down on her earlobe.

Cora dug her fingers into Sam's breasts, felt the hard nipples against her palms and came with a shout. Sam held Cora until she went still, and found her lips again. Sam was surprised there were tears in her eyes, but then realized Cora was the first woman she had been with since Janet. She kissed Cora's cheek, her closed eyelids and buried her face in Cora's hair.

"I'm sorry," Cora said.

"Shh," Sam whispered.

They pulled back slightly and Cora's hands went to the hem of Sam's sweater. She bent down and, as she lifted the heavy material, kissed Sam's stomach as it was exposed. Sam pulled the sweater completely off and Cora took one hard nipple into her mouth with a shaky gasp. She closed her teeth around it, stroked her tongue across the areole and reached up to massage the other with her free hand.

Sam arched her back and sighed, reaching down to unfasten her jeans. Cora saw what she planned, reached down and helped Sam with the zipper. Sam was breathing hard as Cora released her breast and slipped one hand down inside, past Sam's underwear, to touch her. They groaned in unison and Cora straightened to kiss Sam's lips. "I've wanted this for so long," she gasped when they parted.

"How long?" Sam asked. She had her hands in Cora's hair again, staring down at her as Cora's long fingers curled between her legs. She gasped and her breath hitched, her eyes closing as she clenched her jaw.

Cora kissed Sam's breast and ran her tongue up to Sam's neck. "I masturbated... to your picture. In your dress blues, accepting a medal for all you had done. Before I even met you... you made me wet. I tried to hand you off to another doctor when you arrived, but they were all assigned to other patients. I had a free slot." She kissed Sam's lips and moaned. "I admitted it to you. Before we started our sessions. I told you... ung, god, you're so wet... I admitted I was attracted to you. You said it was fine."

Sam slipped her tongue into Cora's mouth, brushed the soft, silky inside of her cheek and then pulled back. Cora's face was flush, her eyes wide and dark as Sam touched her breast and rode her fingers. "I had fantasies, too," Sam said. "Of you, making love to me in a session..."

Cora's eyes were closed. "Y-you remember?"

Sam nodded. "I do. Because it was like this. Just like this." Cora sighed and they kissed again. Sam tightened her thighs around Cora's hand, rocked her hips forward and felt the heel of Cora's hand against her clit. "Move your hand up just a... just a litt-- Oh, Cora..."

"Say it again," Cora gasped.

"Cora," Sam cupped the back of Cora's head and covered her face with kisses. She chanted the doctor's name as she rolled her hips forward. Cora threw her head back, knocking it against the wall as Sam came against her fingers. Sam bucked a few times, her lips moving from Cora's mouth to her ear.

The two women clung to each other and Cora slipped her hand free. She wiped her fingers on the thigh of Sam's jeans and exhaled, breathing in Sam's scent as she tried to relax. Sam held her, resting her head on Cora's shoulder. She kissed the shell of Cora's ear and said, "I want to taste you... I want my tongue inside of you..."

Cora shivered and brushed her thumb against Sam's bottom lip. "Well. We have all night, don't we?"

Sam pressed her forehead against Cora's and sucked her thumb into her mouth. She nipped at it with her teeth and whispered, "Yeah... yeah, we do."

#

Janet had always called herself a bottom, in the non-sexual meaning of the word. Without conscious thought or movement, during the night, she would invariably end up under Sam. One night when Sam had been unable to sleep, Janet had actually started pulling her, easing Sam across the mattress until she was safely nestled underneath Sam's weight. Sam had never been the bottom in a relationship; she was comfortable on top, being the protector.

When she woke the morning after making love to Cora, she was surprised to find that she was the one wrapped up in a dominant lover's arms. Cora was pressed against her back, Sam's face half-buried in the pillow, and their fingers were laced together. Sam lifted her head and looked over her shoulder at her sleeping lover. Cora looked utterly exhausted, her lips slack and her eyelids flickering in dreams.

Janet had tried to explain it, but Sam never really understood what it meant until now. To wake up being protected, wrapped up in a lover... it was very, very nice. It was something she could get used to.

Sam lifted her head and kissed the corner of Cora's mouth. Cora stirred and blinked, turning to look at the naked woman underneath her. Her lips parted in a slow, sleepy smile and she said, "Oh. So much for telling myself it was a dream."

Sam nodded. She rolled over and Cora settled against her. They kissed slowly, and Sam ran her hand down Cora's side. She rested one hand on Cora's ass, the other on her shoulder. "I have to go back to the hospital today."

"Mm-hmm," Cora said. She brushed a strand of hair from Sam's eyes.

"But I can leave any time I want. Self-admission, right?"

Cora nodded. "As long as I agree." She slipped her leg between Sam's and bent her knee against Sam. Sam grunted and arched her back, tightening her thighs. She moved her hands until she could lace her fingers together in the small of Cora's back and draw her close. Cora reached up and rested her palms against the headboard, using her knees to thrust her hips forward against Sam. "Yes, Cora," Sam whispered. She bit her bottom lip and said, "How can... I prove to you that... I'm good to leave the hospital?"

Cora bent down and kissed Sam's neck. Sam lightly dragged her fingernails up over Cora's back and Cora said, "Mmm. There's a very complex and... arduous procedure..."

Sam whispered in Cora's ear, "Does it involve toys? I'm good with toys."

"I'll bet you are," Cora growled.

Sam said, "Kiss me."

Cora lifted her head and kissed Sam tenderly. She brushed Sam's cheek, ran her thumb over Sam's bottom lip and continued to thrust her hips. Sam held eye contact until she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. She grunted and turned her head to the side. She dug her fingers into Cora's back and held her in place as she came. She exhaled, stroked Cora's back and pushed herself up to kiss Cora.

They rolled until Cora was on the mattress, their legs wrapped together, and Sam drew patterns on Cora's naked back with her fingertips. Cora closed her eyes and shivered. After a long silence, Cora said, "How much do you remember?"

Sam looked at a light smattering of freckles on Cora's upper chest. "Everything," she whispered. "I remember it all. I remember wanting to die." She closed her eyes, tried not to focus on every bad thing that had been her fault. Tried not to think about what she had cost those nearest and dearest to her.

"What are you thinking about?" Cora asked softly.

"Cam."

Cora nodded.

"I've told you about..."

"You have."

Sam said, "We did have feelings for each other. I'm bisexual, and we were both drunk... it's not like we raped each other. But... God. I can't imagine it would feel any different if we had."

"You both needed something at that particular moment. You didn't know what, so you forced something. It was the wrong thing to do. You've accepted that at least twice."

"That many times, huh?" Sam said with a sad grin.

Cora kissed Sam underneath her left eye. "You wrote a letter to Cameron and apologized. He replied and said that it was as much his fault as it was yours. I think the two of you found peace."

Sam nodded. She inhaled and, when she breathed out, a flood of tears came with it. "God," she coughed. Cora embraced her and Sam wept against her shoulder. It felt like someone had taken hold of her heart and was twisting slowly. Cheyenne Mountain. General Landry, gone. Sergeant Siler, gone. Walter Harriman, Carolyn Lam, the people she had worked and lived alongside for a decade, ascended or dead, but either way gone. "Fuck, Cora, it was my fault."

"It's all right, Sam."

"I know," Sam said. "That's what hurts so bad." She swallowed and coughed, another round of tears rolling down her cheeks. She swept her hand across her cheeks and blinked rapidly to clear her eyelashes. Cora brought her hand up and tenderly wiped her thumb across Sam's eyes. Sam's jaw and throat were both sore. She swallowed and said, "I must look like hell."

"You look fine to me," Cora said. "Perfectly fine."

Sam smiled and pulled Cora to her for another kiss.

#

The front door of the hospital was propped open, and Sam was waiting beside Cora. They were holding hands, Sam's suitcase on the walkway in front of them. When the sedan pulled into the driveway, Sam's hand tightened around Cora's. Cora squeezed back, and Sam relaxed slightly.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the front doors. Teal'c climbed out of the front passenger side of the car and opened the back for Cameron. His prosthetic legs were extremely natural, carrying him as well as his real legs, with just a slight hitch to his gait. Teal'c smiled and Cam offered a nervous grin. His hair was a little longer than she was used to, but not the grease-nest she had seen in the alternate reality five years earlier.

Sam offered the remains of her team a weak smile. "Hi, guys."

"Hey, Sam," Cameron said.

"Samantha. It is good to see you well again."

Sam nodded and said, "It's good to be... myself again."

The driver's-side door of the sedan opened and Cameron said, "Oh, did you want to meet our driver?"

Sam frowned. "Why would I..." She looked between them and saw their driver walking toward them. He wore his pristine dress blues, the brim of his hat pulled low over his eyes. Something caught in her throat and she didn't know if she would be able to speak when it came time to greet him.

Cora's fingers tensed on Sam's hand and she leaned in to whisper in her ear. "It's not a hallucination. They called earlier to make sure it would be all right."

The driver stopped between Cameron and Teal'c and doffed his cover. His hair was snow white, a fact driven home by the fact his skin was darker than she remembered. Maybe he had been posted somewhere sunny. He deserved it. He gave her his patented 'I-got-you-good,-didn't-I?' half-grin and said, "Good to see you, Colonel Carter."

"You, too, General."

O'Neill waved that off and said, "Come on. We're all friends here. If you can't call me 'Jack' the day I spring you from the loony bin..."

Sam smiled. "All right, then. Jack."

O'Neill looked at Sam's hand, the fingers laced with Cora Foster's, and hitched his eyebrow slightly. But he said nothing about it. He gestured at the bags and said, "Can we get these for you, ma'am?" He bent down and picked up the smallest bag, kicking the bigger one to Teal'c. "You take that one, Rocco."

Teal'c bent and picked up the bag. Sam turned to Cora and said, "I..."

"I have to finish some things up here. It's fine. Go. I'll catch up later." She leaned in and kissed Sam's cheek, dangerously close to her mouth.

O'Neill said, "Careful..."

"Sorry," Cora said. She brushed her lipstick away from Sam's skin with her thumb and stepped back. "Have fun. I'll see you soon."

Sam walked with the guys to the car and slid into the backseat. Teal'c and O'Neill got into the front, and Cam sat in the back with her, albeit on the far opposite side of the seat. Sam wanted to tell him it was all right, that he could move closer, but she held her tongue. Besides, once the car was moving, there wasn't much room in the backseat anyway.

"So," O'Neill said with a glance in the rearview. "Where are we headed?"

"Chinese?" Vala suggested. "I love those fortune cookies..."

"Ah!" O'Neill snapped. "Non-corporeal people don't get a vote."

"That is a biased opinion. Just because I can't eat..."

Daniel said, "Vala, let it go."

Vala slumped against the seat, crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.

Sam looked over her shoulder at Vala and was smiling when she turned back to the road.

end

   Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Please check out my website for information about my novels!