Chapter 4

Having emerged from the shower and dried himself off, Daniel stood in front of the bathroom mirror and gave his hair a final towel rub. His day had consisted of doing the laundry, paying some bills, and reviewing some new issues of archaeological journals with which he hadn't found time to keep up-to-date ... a busy day that had failed to keep his mind from running in circles around the question of whether to resign or not. He'd been hoping the hot pounding water would help him relax but if anything he was more tense than before.

Sighing, he paused at the mirror and ran a hand through his hair. It was sticking up every which way, seeming to mock the tangled confusion of his thoughts. Grabbing the blow dryer, he aimed it at his head and turned it on. Fingering the now dry strands, he smoothed them into his customary style, noting how the trim he got before returning to Abydos had left it a tad shorter than he'd liked. Oh, well, it would grow back. At least if he resigned, he wouldn't have to put up with Jack constantly nagging him to get it cut.

He pulled on a white t-shirt to go with his black sweat pants and brushed his teeth. Heading for his bedroom, he flopped down on top of the bed. He stared up at the ceiling and groaned, knowing it was going to be another sleepless night. It had been a day since Sam and Jack had visited, and they'd each left him with some heavy thoughts weighing on his mind. The previous night, he'd agonized over the decision and hardly got any sleep. The same thing was bound to happen tonight.

If he was going to get any sleep, he'd have to do something to take his mind off it. Yes, it wasn't a good idea to put off such an important decision, but it was eating him up inside and he needed just a few moments of peace from it.

Rising again, he made his way out to the living room. The hard wood flooring was cool beneath his bare feet, reminding him nothing of the cool desert sands of Abydos at night... or so he tried to tell himself.

He definitely needed distracting. Grabbing up the remote for the TV, he sank onto his couch and curled his feet up under him. A little mindless, thought-numbing surfing should help knock him out. He'd always wondered what Sha're's reaction to TV might be; the 'magic' of stories you could see as well as hear.... The news channel was reporting on a violent demonstration in the West Bank.

CLICK! Definitely not something he wished Sha're had ever seen.

He ended up with some old reruns of American Bandstand from the late '70s. Snickering at some of the cheesy fashions and dance moves of the day, he was suddenly reminded of how important it had been back then to be 'cool' and fit in' ... and how impossible that had been for a gawky, gangly fifteen-year-old senior who wasn't into sports. Chuckling now, he was glad he'd never really fit in. His failure to do so had hurt at the time but, in retrospect, had also made him a stronger individual. He didn't need others' approval to know what he wanted from life. It didn't take long for him to completely zone out; and, half-an-hour later, his exhaustion finally got the better of him.

******************

Daniel opened his eyes and lifted an arm to wipe the sweat from his brow. A glance at the shadows told him it was nearing noon and he'd only managed to grind one small handful of grain. There was more flour on his hands and robes than there was in the bowl beneath the quern. How was it Sha're made this look so easy?

Hearing familiar laughter, he glanced to his left where his wife was just finishing her grinding for the day. "Age should put the white of wisdom in your hair, Good Husband," she grinned even as she gathered her tools and prepared to stand, "not flour!"

“I ... ah ...” Boy, was he embarrassed.

Suddenly hearing footsteps, he turned to find Sam standing in back of him. He noticed she had forgone her BDU's for Abydonian robes on his advice that they'd be more comfortable to wear in the hot suns and warm sands of the planet. She was gesturing at his hair with a teasing grin. “Yeah, Daniel, I'd say you're a little too young to start going gray just yet!”

He turned up a corner of his mouth in response to his friend's good-natured quip. Sha're offered her a bright smile as Sam moved past her, making for the kiln in the far corner of the room. "Is it done?" his wife asked with barely contained excitement.

"'Should be," Sam answered and bent to retrieve whatever it was she had baking. Using a large wooden paddle, she carefully removed a deep-sided pan from the oven. Inside was a strange, black half-sphere covered with wires and crystals. Setting the pan on the warm sands in front of Daniel and Sha're, Sam reached down to flip a switch. The device immediately began to hum.

Kneeling, Sha're studied the device and her face lit up. She hugged Sam and congratulated her. “This is truly wonderful, Samantha,” she said. “This may help defeat the demons, and I pray it will help find Skaara and return him to us.”

Sam nodded with a smile. They spoke and laughed as if they were long time friends. Daniel found love and renewed hope in Sha're's face. His gaze shifted to Sam, her eyes radiating accomplishment and a deep fondness for Daniel himself.

Daniel gazed from one woman to the other, and . . .

. . . woke up with a start to a starkly contrasting scene: his living room, lit only by the glow of the television, which was now showing some stupid infomercial – something about a microwave tray that magically defrosts meat. Blinking once more, he lazily grabbed the remote and turned it off.

Darkness surrounded him as the TV fell silent. The sound of distant traffic grounded him in the here and now as he contemplated the illusive tendrils of dream that still remained. The heavy feel of the stone in his hands as he meticulously worked the course yufeta grains at the quern, the sound of mano and matate scraping against each other and the smell of baking bread was so real he could almost taste it....

He'd felt no surprise when Sam appeared to extract her device from the beehive oven he'd built for his wife. It had felt normal and right that the two women should be friends, even though he knew they'd met only in passing. Sha're had been shy at first with the strange woman, whose hair and skin was lighter even than his, and stayed close to Daniel until time to prepare the evening meal.

If only he'd taken the time to introduce the two more closely! Someone else could have... but no. Sha're would not have surrendered her duties to oversee the meal preparation to anyone else unless he ordered it, and he wasn't in the habit of 'ordering' her to do anything despite his father-in-law's strictures that he was 'spoiling' her.

She and Sam were similar in that way: both independent, strong women with a sense of duty and responsibility they took pride in; passionate in their beliefs and desire to learn the truth. Sha're had astounded him with her rapid grasp of written language and the import of all that had been kept from her people for so long. He'd seen the same fire in Sam's eyes whenever she was struggling to understand some new Goa'uld device they'd discovered. And yet... they were so different as well: Sha're, small and dark, her gentle nature hiding the strength within - Sam, small and light, her strength hiding the gentle nature she feared to show lest someone think her weak. Both were intelligent and passionate and - yes - if fate had allowed, he had little doubt in his mind the two would have been close friends.

He suddenly knew he wasn't going to resign. Sha're would not want him to. Resigning would mean turning his back on all her people had fought against, all they'd fought to achieve since they'd dared throw off the yoke of Goa'uld slavery. Ra was not the only snake out there. They knew that now. What would happen to Abydos if Apophis ever decided to claim it as his own? They'd thrown off one false god, yes, but Daniel had no illusions. The Goa'uld could take the world back anytime they wanted, just as they could destroy Earth if they really wanted; it simply wasn't worth the effort - for now.

And Skaara was still out there. It was bad enough he'd failed Sha're; could he just turn his back on her brother? On his brother? He'd never had much of a family before Abydos. He'd learned quickly not to form deep attachments in foster care, but when he married Sha're it was different. He became an irrevocable part of her family; her death didn't change that.

And then there was Sam...

She was the real stumbling block here, pulling him in two directions at once.

Yes, now by most conventional standards, he was free - but his feelings for Sam had started a long time ago. He'd crossed an invisible line somewhere sometime and... he couldn't go back. Right or wrong, he'd given her a piece of his heart. If he resigned, he'd be leaving her. Daniel didn't know if he could handle that. Was his desire to avoid going through the gate and reminding himself of how badly he failed Sha're strong enough to overcome the void he was sure to experience from not having Sam in his life?

It wasn't a pain he could willingly choose to bear. Not now. Not yet.

Decision made, there was no more room for second-guessing. Sighing, he rose from the couch with a determined resolve and returned to his bedroom. He lay down on his bed, quickly running through what he had to do over the next few days in his mind. Within minutes, he'd fallen asleep, a peaceful smile on his face.

*********************************

Sitting in her dimly lit lab, Sam sighed heavily. She was studying an analysis of some soil samples SG-11 had brought back. Her preoccupation didn't allow her to get very far; it was 1100 hours and she was only on page two of thirty-six. She couldn't stop thinking of Daniel. Jack had told her yesterday that he'd visited Daniel the night before but he didn't say very much about the outcome. Judging by his quiet, somewhat deflated demeanor, Sam assumed he hadn't been very successful in convincing the archaeologist not to resign. She hoped in her heart of hearts that Daniel would reconsider; never seeing him again was not a thought she could entertain.

There was however something that weighed even more heavily on her mind: the fact that her father had cancer.

Her thoughts about her father and Daniel made it impossible for her to concentrate. She needed to talk to someone, to get a few things off her chest. Rising from her desk, she left the room and headed for the infirmary.

**********************************

Dr. Janet Fraiser was busy tidying up some folders that had been cluttering her desk. She was normally a very meticulous person, preferring to keep things spotless, but they'd had an overload of patients recently and she hadn't taken the time to straighten up. She began returning the folders to their rightful locations. Opening the top one, she found it was Daniel's file. Her thoughts quickly flashed back to the archaeologist and all he'd been through over the last couple of weeks. She hoped this time off was doing him some good. Sighing, she put the folder away and returned to her desk.

There was a pile of mail sitting in her 'In' box too, demanding her belated attention. With a sigh, she sat down at her desk and began going through it, deciding what to keep and what to chuck. She was always surprised at the amount of junk mail she got even at a top secret military base!

A knock on her office door pulled her from her thoughts and she glanced up to find Sam standing in the doorway.

“Hey, Sam,” Janet smiled readily. Visiting with her friend was definitely more appealing than dealing with the mail.

“Hey,” Sam returned, trying to manage a smile of her own but not succeeding. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

Uh oh, Janet didn't like that look. Something was wrong. “Sure,” she replied, gesturing for Sam to sit down. The other woman entered and sat heavily on one of the chairs. Janet waited for a long moment but Sam merely frowned into middle distance, obviously wrestling with her thoughts. She needed a little prompt. “So, what's up?” she asked with forced nonchalance.

Sam glanced up with worried blue eyes. “Could you give me some information about Lymphoma? I'd especially like to know what the prognosis is.”

Janet regarded her curiously for a moment. “Well, it's a cancer that affects the lymphatic system, which is part of the immune system. There are two types: Non-Hodgkin's and Hodgkin's Lymphoma, the first being the most common. It can start in the lymph nodes, in a specialized lymphatic organ like the spleen, or in lymph tissue found in organs such as the stomach or intestines.”

Sam nodded. Janet knew she must have been doing her research, which meant this wasn't a casual question.

“As far as the prognosis goes, about thirty to sixty percent of those with aggressive forms of the disease can be cured. It really depends on how far the cancer has spread and how early it is detected.”

Appearing frustrated, Sam shook her head. Janet was clearly giving her nothing she didn't already know.

Janet frowned. "Why do you want to know?" She knew perfectly well Sam wasn't sick – and she certainly didn't have lymphoma!

Sam swallowed and dropped her gaze. “My father has it it," she explained quietly. "He was at the reception that I, Colonel O'Neill, and General Hammond attended in Washington. He told me,” she spoke softly.

Janet's heart immediately went out to the other woman. "I'm so sorry, Sam," she offered sincerely. "How long ago was he diagnosed?”

“I don't know,” she shook her head, obviously fighting back deep emotion. “The way he was talking, it didn't sound good. He acted like he wouldn't be around much longer.”

Janet laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I don't know if I'll even get to see him again before ... He just walked out on me,” she continued, her voice wavering as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I don't know what I can do.” Biting her lip, she lowered her head.

Realizing how hard Sam was trying to keep her emotions under control, Janet gathered her into a hug. She felt Sam's body shuddering as she began to cry. “I just ... I have so many things on my mind. I'm finding it so hard to work.”

Janet patted her on the back. She knew Sam had been through a lot recently, but she hadn't realized just how much ... and how it was taking its toll on her.

Sniffling, Sam straightened up and eased slightly out of her embrace. “I'm sorry for falling apart like that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Sam,” Janet replied. No, she certainly did not. Being one of her closest friends, Janet was also a shoulder for Sam to cry on. After the most recent, harrowing events in which she'd been involved, Sam was entitled to a good cry: the trip to Washington and discovery of her father's condition, the mission to Abydos in which Sha're was killed ...

Looking into Sam's suddenly uncomfortable face made Janet realize there was more to this than she thought. “That's not all that's bothering you, is it?”

Sam tensed slightly. “No. The situation with Daniel is making it a lot worse.”

Janet frowned in concern. "How so?" she asked simply.

“Janet, he wants to resign,” Sam cried in exasperation.

Janet's eyes widened. “What?” This certainly was news to her.

“I visited him a few days ago and found him typing a letter of resignation. He said he joined SG-1 to find Sha're and bring her back. He thinks he no longer has a reason to stay.”

Janet slowly nodded in understanding, even though she was still pretty surprised. “I guess I can see why he would say that. He seemed very devoted to his wife.”

“I asked him to reconsider. He said he'd think about it, but I don't know what the outcome will be and, to tell you the truth, I'm afraid of it,” Sam continued softly.

Turning, she picked up a pen lying on Janet's desk and nervously fingered the cap. Throwing it down in frustration, she exclaimed, "Damn it, he can't leave me - us!" Janet lifted an eyebrow in response to her friend's little outburst."Sam?" she questioned.

Sam blushed and her gaze dropped to her hands. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

“Why?” Janet asked. “Are you afraid that Daniel's predicament is affecting you more than it should?” A military officer herself, Janet was well aware of the importance of adhering to interpersonal relationship rules amongst team members, whether they were military or not.

Sam looked back up at her. “No ... yes ... I don't know.” The range of emotions dancing across her face did more to reveal Sam's inner conflict more than mere words could.

'A-ha', Janet thought, finally putting two and two together. “Sam, are you in love with Daniel?”

Appearing almost embarrassed, Sam avoided the doctor's gaze and nodded. “Yes,” she breathed.

Janet's eyes filled with sympathy. Given the situation with her father, Janet knew the question about Daniel's possible resignation would only be making Sam's emotional upheaval that much worse.

"I love him," she admitted in a barely audible whisper. "I ... I have for a long time, even when he was still married to Sha're. I ... I just didn't know it. And now she's dead and...." She closed her eyes in shame and bowed her head. "I can't believe I let myself fall in love with a married man."

Janet shook her head in empathic understanding. "You can't control an emotion like love, Sam," she told the other woman gently. "What about Daniel? How does he feel, do you even know?"

“When he joined me for that night out with Meri and her fiancé last year, he told me he loved me as a friend, but on a deeper level. He didn't feel ashamed about that night because he thought Sha're would want him to enjoy life and be with people he loved instead of pining for her all the time. He let me help him through those hallucinations he had of Hathor. Our relationship progressed from friends to just about 'more than friends' – and he didn't have any objections.”

Janet nodded, remembering the incident and how it seemed to bring Sam and Daniel closer. “I think you and Daniel need to have a talk about this. If he feels the same, you're going to have to discuss where things stand between you and if they'd present a problem with you being on the same team.”

Sam nodded. “I know.” Attempting to force herself back to some semblance of normalcy, she offered Janet a watery smile. “Well, I guess I'd better get back to my lab. I have to finish the analysis of those soil samples SG-11 brought back. Thanks for listening, Janet.”

The petite doctor gave Sam another hug. “Anytime, Sam. I'm always here to talk if you need it.”

Sam offered her a weary but grateful smile. Nothing had really been solved, Janet knew; but she also knew Sam had managed to put it all back into perspective. She'd be okay. With a little nod, the captain turned and left the infirmary. Sighing, Janet turned and offered her mail a frustrated frown.