And The Key To The SGC by Jacquie

*****

On the second to last day before Christmas, Janet Fraiser was tired. Absolutely exhausted, fall-down, been-up for-forty-eight-hours-straight, bone-weary tired. It was just a minor illness that had taken hold at Stargate Command, but it had occurred when most of the SGC teams were on stand-down. Which was both a blessing and an annoyance. As a result, the ordinarily sufficiently staffed medical unit was nearly non-existent. Though the number of personnel infected was relatively low, there were only four able-bodied soldiers left to care for them. Since the illness had been brought through the Stargate, from off-world, it was an automatic level three quarantine situation, which meant that no one could leave or enter the infected facility.

Except the small group whose arrival Doctor Fraiser was expecting at any minute. The Stargate program's premier team, designated SG-1, was a first contact unit whose members were as diverse as the cultures they encountered. Colonel Jack O' Neill, a career military man whose command ability was matched only by his sharp tongue. His 2IC and frequent verbal sparring partner was Major Samantha Carter, Ph.D., Earth's foremost authority on the Stargate. The Jaffa warrior, Teal'c, an alien who had betrayed his evil enslaver to free the rest of the team, and hopefully his own world as well. The team was rounded out by Dr. Daniel Jackson, anthropologist extraordinare, whose insatiable curiosity was held in check solely by his concern for humanity.

They were quite a team, Janet mused. She hoped that they would come back from their mission in one piece. They spent far too much time in her infirmary, and today she didn't need anymore patients. There simply weren't any more beds.

"Captain! Incoming travellers," Lt. Graham Simmons' voice alerted her through the control room's microphone.

"Is the code coming through?" she inquired.

The young technician nodded, "Yes, ma'am. SG-One's signal confirmed."

"Open the iris, Lieutenant," she ordered, rolling her eyes, not quite believing that she would ever have the authority to issue that particular command.

A microsecond later, the large metal disk which protected the earth from alien invasion, spun open, revealing the soft, blue waves of the artificially-created worm hole. Four muddy figures spewed out of the circular gate, and traipsed down the ramp, leaving dark green slime in their wake. Janet assessed them quickly with a doctor's trained eye. All of them looked tired and dirty, but healthy enough to assist her with her patients. If Janet could have figured out which god to thank, she would have, but philosophy had become a little more complicated since taking this assignment.

Sighing in relief, Doctor Fraiser offered the expected greeting to the new arrivals, "Welcome home SG-One. And Merry Christmas, albeit a few days early."

"Janet?" Major Carter asked, clearly surprised to see her friend in the embarkation room.

"Yeah, we've had a... little problem since you left."

"A problem, Doctor?" Teal'c asked in his no-nonsense manner.

"SG-3 brought back a kind of flu bug from P2X-025, so most of the base is down sick," Janet explained.

"How much of the SCG, Doc?" Colonel O'Neill inquired, concern evident in his voice.

"Well, Colonel... let's just say I'm authorized to surrender command of this facility to you at this time."

"Whoa! You're in charge of the SGC?" Daniel uttered with a look of disbelief.

Before she could answer, the Colonel was already assessing the situation, "What kind of illness are you talking about?"

"Nothing too serious, as far as I can tell. Its apparently viral, striking at random, so I ordered a Level Three Lockdown. No one gets in or out. Except through here, I guess," she said gesturing at the two-story ring behind them. "Symptoms include nausea, fever, pain, skin redness, and general fatigue -- no permanent effects, though its going to take some time to analyse it."

"When did it start?" Jack asked.

"Almost forty-eight hours ago. The weekend shift was just about to go home when Colonel Makepeace's team came through the gate, all but one infected by the virus. We were lucky there weren't more personnel on base, but it being just a few days before Christmas, most everyone had already left." She lamented, thinking of her daughter Cassie visiting with her adoptive grandparents in Portland, and damning the virus which had forced her to miss her own flight.

Daniel asked the next obvious question, "How many are sick?"

"Eleven. There are four left unaffected. Myself, Lt. Simmons, Sgt. Nichols, and Lt. Birkby. I don't know how long that will last, though. It's apparently airborne and we've been on lock-down since SG-3 came back through the gate, so the air is being recycled through the system--"

"Which may actually spread the disease faster," Carter's mercuric mind collaborated. "Great."

"Exactly," Janet concurred.

Jack sighed, "Where is General Hammond?"

"He is coordinating things from up at NORAD, Colonel. He would like you to contact him as soon as possible."

"Okay, campers," he replied, a quick frown changing into a goofy smile. "Make that... Santa's little helpers. Let's get cleaned up and get back to work. Fraiser, what do you need us to do?"

"Well, SG-8 is due to return in, um... Lt. Simmons?" Janet looked up to the control room window, and saw he was slumped over the control board. "Lieutenant? Dammit! It looks like he's got it, too. Well, someone needs to take over in the control room. And I could use some help in the infirmary." She knew that frustration was beginning to creep into her voice, but she didn't care. The cavalry had arrived just in time to prevent her insanity and she was grateful.

Having quickly analysed the situation, O'Neill started delegating roles, "Carter, grab a quick shower, and get to the control room."

"Yessir," she replied, already on her way out.

"Teal'c and Daniel, wait ten minutes for Carter, and then get cleaned up and report to the Doc."

Janet watched for moment as the rest of the Colonel's team obeyed his orders and filed out of the room. A yawn escaped her lips as she turned to Jack, mumbling an apology through her open mouth, an unintelligible sound breaking the silence. Regaining her voice, she excused herself, "Sorry, Colonel. I've been up for a long time."

He smiled at her as they headed towards the door, "Don't worry about it. We'll do the best we can. And by the way, good work, Doctor."

Janet returned his grin and let out a small sigh as she followed him back up towards the control room to collect the unconscious Lt. Simmons. Even if the good Colonel was sometimes the cause of her frustration, somehow the man always could make her feel good about herself. A sign of a good commander, and a good man. She wondered what it was like for Sam to deal with him on an everyday basis. In a way, she was glad it wasn't her working so close with O'Neill. It wouldn't take much for her to fall for him in a completely unmilitary manner...

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she rushed to catch up with him, needing two steps to match every one of his.

*****

After helping Janet change sheets and bedpans, Daniel had turned an amazing bright red tone and collapsed over the sleeping Major Gormley. Teal'c blinked once, and easily scooped up the young archeologist, who was babbling something about angels and high heels as he was dragged away to his own bed, obviously delirious. The illness hadn't spread any further than that and two hours later, things had calmed down somewhat.

SG-8 had returned on time with no injuries to add to Fraiser's caseload and were put to work soon after. Janet agreed to sleep for several hours, O'Neill having told her that Cpl. Baxter was a fully trained medic and would wake her if a problem arose. The corporal looked confused for a moment, but kept her mouth shut until the doctor left. She then piped up saying that having taken a course in Biostatistics recently, really didn't qualify her to be a medic. The colonel glared at her and she left to watch over 'her' patients.

A little while later, Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter were still in the control room, patiently awaiting the arrival of one last expected traveller.

"Not exactly the Christmas we had planned, huh?" Jack said, sneaking a look Sam. She was staring at a readout on the computer, apparently calculating planetary shifts needed for another 'gate destination. He was amazed, not only because she was working when she could be resting, but that he actually had figured out what she was doing. She was distracting herself from thinking about their ruined holiday.

"Nope," she muttered, still intent on the paper in front of her.

He wasn't about to give up, "Well, we still might be able to squeeze in a day or two of skiing with the guys before you leave."

"If we get out of this damn mountain in time," she shot back.

Sam was clearly annoyed that she might miss going to San Diego to visit her brother Mark and the kids for the New Year's celebration. He knew the actual Christmas plans weren't as important to her as they were to him, but the team had been going to spend it together on a different mountain, not stuck on the inside of this one. Time for a different tactic, "Look at the bright side, Carter. If I get sick, you'll be in charge of all of this..."

She looked up, and actually grinned, "Well, when you put it that way, you do look a little fatigued. Did Graham breathe on you, maybe, when you moved him to the infirmary?" Her smile slowly turning a subtle shade of evil.

"No, but he was mumbling about someone named Stace or Andrea or something like that, it sounds like you're off the hook." Happy to have her almost back to her regular self, he enjoyed the colour she was turning. Simmons had been driving her crazy for nearly a year with his big puppy-dog eyes, and Jack was continually surprised that his drooling over the Major hadn't caused to computer boards to short-circuit.

"That would be nice, I had to slink out of Janet's office the other day, when he was there. She put up some mistletoe just inside the doorframe, and was quite obvious in pointing it out to me, right in front of him," Sam commented, raising her voice slightly. "I'm not sure who she was trying to embarrass more. Him or me?"

Jack couldn't contain his smile, having already discovered quite by accident exactly where the mistletoe was. The 'ole Doc could be quite conniving when she wanted to be, and she wasn't a bad kisser, either. Not exactly who he wanted to kiss, but maybe in time... "Thank-you, by the way."

"For what?"

"Always laughing at my jokes," he said suddenly, in all seriousness. Not truly understanding why exactly he was telling her this. Maybe the holiday season was starting to affect him after all.

She caught his glance for a moment, and then turned away, "I have no choice, actually."

Now he was puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I want to keep on your good side. Wouldn't be good for my career to annoy you," she explained. Her face totally straight.

"Great... the only person who laughs at my jokes is only doing so to advance her career," he frowned, her answer clearly not what he had expected. "Thanks Major, I needed that."

"Okay... seriously?" The gleam in her eyes not going unnoticed. "My father's sense of humour is very much like yours. Or hadn't you noticed?"

"Dad has a sense of humour?" he quipped, trying to sound as straight as she had earlier. He liked calling her father, 'Dad', and liked even more that she didn't seem to mind.

"Exactly," she grinned.

He was happier now, having cheered her up somewhat, her smile being worth all of the effort, "Speaking of Dad, isn't he due soon?"

As if on cue, the gate hummed into action, the warning lights lit up the control room like the undecorated Christmas tree in the briefing room above should have been. What a holiday, Jack thought, glancing at the board.

"Signal received, it's the Tok'ra," she announced.

"Now there's a surprise," Jack answered, knowing his sarcasm was expected and appreciated, at least by her. "You go down and greet your father, I'll finish up here." He watched his Major fly down the circular stairwell, and walk through the open K-5 door, a smile gracing her already beautiful features as she awaited her dad's arrival.

Ever since 'Dad' had joined the Tok'ra, Jack had noticed how close father and daughter had become, despite their truly long distance relationship. It was only last year he had met the man, in Washington, when he and Carter were due to have received the Air Medal from the President. That had been a trip that he would rather have forgotten all about except that during the plane ride home, Sam had actually confided in him. She explained her soured relationship with her father, his offer of getting her into NASA, and that he had just told her he was dying of cancer.

A lot could happen in a year, though, he reflected as one figure whooshed through the blue waves of the gate... followed closely by a second. What do you know, Jack thought upon seeing Martouf emerge from the worm hole, another surprise, and not a particularly welcome one. For some reason, he suddenly wasn't feeling well.

*****

Jacob Carter trampled down the metal ramp towards his daughter, holding out his hands, "Merry Christmas, kid."

Sam fell easily into his embrace, "Merry Christmas, Dad. I'm glad you're here." She held him a moment, comforted by his hug, even as she was concerned by the presence of his unexpected companion. Not that she minded seeing him again, on the contrary, but usually when he walked through the 'gate it meant that one or more system lords were really pissed off at them.

"Samantha, it is good to see you again," Martouf offered with a subtle incline of his head and a smile.

"I trust everything is alright?" she asked, attempting to keep a silly grin at bay. "No kidnappings to report or hell to pay?"

"Not this time," his grey eyes shining. "This is strictly a social visit. I will not be staying long. I know you and your father have plans."

"Well, actually... those plans are currently on hiatus. Sorry, Dad." She ushered them towards the door as she explained, "One of our teams returned will a minor illness which quickly spread throughout the base. We're currently in a level three quarantine situation with most personnel down sick. Can you stick around for awhile? We could use the help."

"Of course, whatever is needed," an enthusiastic Martouf replied.

"Another working holiday, huh Sam?" Jacob muttered, thinking that the only time he really got to see his daughter was during a crisis. Well, there was that short trip to Alaska...

"Only kind I seem to have. Come on, I'll show you to where Janet's stashing everyone. I guess Christmas will have to wait. For now," and with that, they headed towards the stairs.

*****

In the crowded infirmary, Sam watched as Dr. Fraiser quickly examined Colonel O'Neill. His skin was a blotchy, light red hue, which made his greying hair seem all the more white. Confirming that he had indeed contracted the '025 flu, recently nicknamed the 'X-mas Bug', the doctor confined him to a stretcher hastily wheeled into her private office. Janet apologized to him for the lack of a real bed, but added at least here he would have some privacy.

"Oh, and Colonel, you are hereby relieved of command. Major, I guess you're in charge of whoever's left. I have to go check on some lab results," Fraiser blathered, clearly exhausted. She headed for the door, calling behind her, "Make sure he stays off his feet! And you two," she added motioning to Jacob and Martouf, "Come with me, there's alot to do. Your symbiotes will probably prevent you from getting ill, right?"

"Most likely," Martouf agreed as he and Jacob, recently promoted to doctor's assistants, followed their new commander-in-chief out of the room.

Major Samantha Carter, USAF, temporarily in charge of the Stargate facility turned to the flu's newest victim, "Okay, Colonel. You heard the doc, on the bed."

He tossed her an angry look, "There are things to do. I am not staying in this bed!"

"The hell you're not," the words barrelling out of her mouth before she even remembered who she was speaking to. O'Neill glared at her, blatant disapproval reflected in his eyes. "Sir," she quickly added. "Colonel, you're not doing any of us a favour by fighting this."

"But you need me," Jack's obstinate plea pierced her heart.

"Of course I need you," she answered gently, not really wanting to admit exactly how much and how often, even to herself. "Just not like this. I promise if there is anything I can't handle, I'll be right here asking your advice, okay? So, are you going to follow Doctor's orders or... are we going to have to arm wrestle?"

"You would arm wrestle a sick man in order to keep him in bed?"

She held his eyes, not backing down, "Only when he doesn't follow his orders, Colonel."

"You're ruthless, you know that don't you?" He grinned at her, giving as good as he got, even when he was sick. It was definitely one of the traits she enjoyed most about him. Something she could always count on, even if his timing was sometimes a little off.

"I'm ruthless?" she asked innocently, the grin on her face revealing she actually did agree with his assessment, sometimes.

"Yeah, you are. I knew that from the moment you set up that claymore perimeter on Chulak," he admitted before continuing, "Okay, you're on."

"What?" she asked, surprised at what he might mean. He couldn't be referring to her arm wrestle suggestion, could he? She had meant it sarcastically, a subtle reminder of their first meeting, perhaps with a trace of the flirtatious banter they had always exchanged, but he wasn't serious? Was he?

"You heard me. Arm wrestle. Right here. Right now. Let's go." His voice was even, his eyes locked with hers, and without a doubt, he was serious.

"You really must have a fever," she reasoned, raising her right hand to his forehead to check. His brow was lightly beaded with sweat, and he did feel a tad warm. She was about to point out her findings, when he grabbed her hand and held it tightly within his own.

"Afraid of losing, Major?"

"Afraid of accidentally hurting you, sir," she said, candidly answering his gentle taunt.

"I'll tell you what..." he whispered, lightly stroking her hand with his thumb. "I promise not to court-martial you if you win."

"And if I lose?" she countered evenly, her eyes not leaving his.

"You let us use the locker room showers first for a month."

She nodded her acceptance of his terms, "And if I win, do you promise to stay in this bed until Janet tells you to get up?"

"Deal. Anytime you're ready."

"I've been ready for the last three years, Colonel," she spouted. Their faces were only inches apart, and she could see him digesting her thinly disguised innuendo, but didn't retaliate. "Across the bed, Colonel," she gestured, moving to the opposite side of the stretcher.

"Yes, ma'am," he said eagerly. "Why?"

"Because when you lose, I don't want you to fall on the cold, hard floor and give yourself a concussion."

"I didn't know you cared so much, Carter."

"It would make more work for Janet, and besides, she'd kill me."

"Sweet," he deadpanned.

Sam positioned herself opposite her commanding officer, tightly grasping his hand as her elbow rested on the firm surface of the military issue bed. Maybe this wasn't the brightest idea, after all, she thought, but it just might keep him in bed. "You okay?" Sam asked quietly, he looked suddenly very weak.

"I will be."

"You sure about this, Colonel?" she asked, giving him one final opportunity to back out. He simply nodded. "Okay, tell me when you're ready."

Without any more preamble, he muttered through a clenched jaw, "Go!"

Sam watched her flushed colonel, as he strained to keep his weakened muscles from completely collapsing under the pressure she exerted. She was not about to lose this battle. Not three years ago to a hard-nosed, arrogant C.O. who she was afraid would judge her solely on her gender. And not now, to her comrade-in-arms, confidante, and currently unwell friend.

She also didn't want to end this charade too quickly. O'Neill was stubborn, as stubborn as she was, and he was male. Very male, she thought as their proximity heightened her awareness of that fact. Breathing in deeply, she hoped to clear her mind of stray, unheeded, and unneeded thoughts, but the scent of him betrayed her intention, and she wondered suddenly if the virus could be affecting her ability to think straight.

Wallowing in her thoughts, she felt the pressure on her arm change ever so slightly, alerting her back to the present and the reason for their battle of arms and wills. She had waited long enough for the Colonel's ego, and decided to end it with one swift tug. "Are you going to stay in bed now?"

"I guess I have no choice. Help me up?" He looked exhausted as she assisted him into the bed, a look of defeat in his tired eyes. "Will you visit me later?"

"I'll be back, but you need to sleep. Doctor's orders. Okay?" Sam whispered softly in his ear. She spent a minute playing with his slightly damp, tousled hair as he fell almost immediately asleep.

She smiled as she got up to leave the room, pausing at the door for one last look, thinking he really did look like a little boy, "The Colonel was nestled all snug in his bed, while visions of sugarplums danced in his head. Good night, Jack."

And she turned off the light and shut the door, leaving him to his dreams.

*****

The next forty-eight hours were a blur to nearly everyone. Jacob Carter had caught the bug, surprising everyone, including Selmak. All those with the X-mas bug slept through the whole thing, and their care givers were too run off their feet to notice that the holiday was now only hours away. Well, everyone except two. And those two people had been very busy on top of their already exhaustive schedules. Stealing a few minutes here and there, and quietly enlisting the help of several others, the base was as close to being prepared for the holiday as was technically possible.

Lt. Matthews and Cpl. Crane had outdone themselves with the boxes of decorations that they found in one of the supply rooms. The tiny canteen was brimming with tinsel, artificial holly and boughs, all trimmed with coloured lights. One of Fraiser's nurses recovered in time to help decorate the tree, and insisted on being the one to put the angel on the top. Apparently, her birthday was also December 25th, and her mother considered her a Christmas angel, and named her thus.

While there was utterly no possible way of obtaining a turkey, and few people who were up to eating anything but IV fluids, two members of SG-8 professing to have the most culinary talent had spent some time in the kitchen. Chatting amongst themselves, knowing they had only volunteered to get out of having to clean bedpans, the two officers made an attempt at baking sugar cookies. Unfortunately, the only cookie cutter they could find was a ring, so they coloured the icing green and called them wreaths. After some experimentation, they managed to produce a light shade of grey and decided to make half into Stargates, complete with tiny chevrons.

One of the ringleaders of the Christmas spirit spied the time. It was daybreak, not that he could tell literally, and he went to find his co-conspirator to check and make sure he was wearing the outfit he had been given in the traditional manner. Knowing he would most likely find her in the infirmary, he headed off down the hallway...

*****

"Hey, Carter. Did you come to see if I've been naughty or nice?" Jack greeted his Major as she walked in the door. After sleeping for nearly fifteen hours, and having eaten a bit of solid food, he was definitely feeling better. The Doc had even declared him 'on the mend' but added a warning to stay put for another day. Janet had outdone herself in the labs with a little help from Dr. Amelung via the internet. Together determining the cause, treatment, and an inoculant to prevent further cases of the X-mas bug.

"Well, I know the truth," she teased, her eyes playing with his. "Question is, did Santa? Merry Christmas, Colonel."

"He knows everything. Much like me," he answered, enjoying the light-hearted banter. This didn't happen nearly enough for his taste.

A line of worry crossed her face, "Oh, what do you know?"

"That I have something for you, but you'll have to come over here to get it," his warm brown eyes leading her in a dance of mischief. He really had been mostly good over the past year.

She hesitated only a moment before sliding over to the bed he was sitting on, "Okay, what is it?"

"This," he said pointing to a slightly-mangled green bit of plastic, laced with small white balls.

"Is that supposed to be a sprig of mistletoe, sir?"

Confirming her analysis for once, "It's supposed to be, yeah."

"Did you steal it from the ceiling?" she asked, turning around to where Janet had originally placed the plant. Finding it gone, she continued, "Please tell me you didn't climb up there yourself, did you, Colonel?"

"Okay, Janet was in here a minute ago, and she--"

"Janet?" Carter repeated emphasising the name. "Don't you mean Dr. Fraiser?"

"They are the same person you know," he responded, not backing down.

"Oh, I know..."

"Sam? Are you going to comply with tradition or not?"

"Yes, sir."

He held the plastic sprig over his head, twisting it between his fingers. Her eyes shone, a flirtatious gleam flashing in her wide smile, the one she kept just for him. As she bent down, he could smell the faint hint of shampoo left in her hair as her cheek brushed his chin, their lips finally meeting in a much anticipated kiss. Her lips barely touched his, and he felt a wave of disappointment. Suddenly the pressure increased taking him by surprise, as she asserted herself. He delighted in returning the pressure and in a moment of lust, gave in to his desire, parting his lips seeking permission to deepen the kiss. She seemed to be granting his request when a voice interrupted them--

"Samantha, I am not certain if I have this on correctly..."

Sam pulled away from Jack's embrace to see Martouf standing in the doorway, decked from head to toe in a red, fur-lined Santa suit carrying a brown sack presumably filled with presents.

"Forgive me for intruding, I did not realize--" he hastily apologized as he bolted out the door, obviously not impressed.

"Martouf!" she called after him.

"I guess Dad didn't explain this particular tradition," Jack surmised, silently damning the Tok'ra for not knocking first. He then remembered Kordesh, telling him the Tok'ra had no need for doors or partitions, but maybe this particular snake-head would rethink that part of their philosophy. He knew there was something going on between him and Carter. Well, maybe in snake-boy's head anyway.

"Ya think?" Sam couldn't help throwing the Colonel's often used words back at him. "I should go and--"

"Explain. That's probably a good idea in the spirit of... intergalactic relations," he agreed reluctantly. Sighing a bit, he handed her the mistletoe, "Sam, take this, maybe it'll help."

She stared at him for a second before grabbing the artificial plant and went to chase the culturally confused Kris Kringle.

*****

"Martouf! Wait! I need to explain," Sam called down the corridor at his retreating form.

Not looking back, he simply shouted, "There is nothing to explain, Samantha."

"Yes, there is! You don't understand," she tried to keep from sounding as desperate as she felt.

He stopped suddenly, and slowly turned back towards her, eyes flashing, Lantesh clearly having assumed control, "What is it that you think I do not understand? Is it not plain enough?"

"No, I don't think it is. This," she said, holding up the plastic plant. "Is a holiday custom. It's called mistletoe. At Christmas, some people hang it up on the ceiling. This particular one belongs to Janet. When two people find themselves underneath it, they are traditionally supposed to kiss. That's what you saw when you came into Janet's office. Nothing more." Her words were slightly edged, and had tumbled out much faster than she had intended.

He looked relieved, and perhaps even a touch remorseful. His voice suddenly much softer even with the drone of the Tok'ra symbiote, "A cultural misunderstanding, then. I... regret my behaviour. Especially that I chose not to listen to you as you attempted to explain. I am sorry."

"Why did you come here with my Dad?" her curiosity getting the better part of her.

Lantesh smiled with a grin she had not seen since their first meeting, "He has been looking forward to this visit with you for many weeks, speaking often of this Tau'ri celebration. He explained many of the customs that go along with the holiday."

"But left out mistletoe," she sighed.

"Yes, he did. I was intrigued by his enthusiasm for the celebration, and I asked if I could accompany him. I intended to stay only a few hours. Just long enough to give you this..." he said, reaching into a pouch at his belt, and pulling out a chain with a small crystal pendant attached to it. "Merry Christmas, Samantha."

"It's beautiful, thank-you," she said, taking the proffered gift and examining it. "This is the same crystal as you use in the construction of the tunnels?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. "Though I have never seen you wear any adornments to indicate such an item would be of use to you."

"Well, you've never seen me in a dress either. Doesn't mean I don't ever wear one," she replied, not really sure of what else to say. "I didn't get you anything, though."

"Jacob tells me that is not what the holiday is about, besides your company these last few days has been a wonderful gift. Thank-you," he bowed slightly, catching her eyes in a brief moment.

Sam studied him for a few seconds, thinking of their unique relationship. She glanced down at the pendant, and asked if he would help her with putting it on. She watched as Lantesh took the necklace from her and bowed his head, control now Martouf's as he slid the chain around her neck, "I'm glad you came here. Every time I wear this, I'll think about you."

Smiling, he pointed to the mistletoe still clung in her hand, "Is it possible for you to... demonstrate this custom with the plant?"

"I think that would be a good idea," she replied, her eyes drawn to his. Reaching up, she closed the short distance between them, and joined her lips to his. He responded immediately, with a soft touch, but quickly sought to deepen it. She parted her lips in answer to his gesture, and began a sensual inspection of his mouth with her tongue, his actions mirroring hers. She quickly forgot that they were standing in one of the main corridors of the base. A whistle soon brought them back to Earth, a familiar whistle Sam realised.

Dammit Daniel! she silently cursed him. Why was it always Daniel interrupting her? And he was whistling 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus' slightly off tune, as Sam watched him nonchalantly duck into a nearby office. Well, there might be other times she could kiss Martouf. Maybe one day she would tell him he really hadn't needed the mistletoe. She sighed, whatever happened it had been an interesting Christmas.

Reluctantly pulling away from his face, she noticed a small green blob on his chin, "What is that on your face?"

"Oh, I was assisting Heather and Cianan of SG-8, with the foods they were decorating. They were... a tad rambunctious, with their passion for the task, and the icing ended up all over everything but the cookies," he said sheepishly.

She burst out laughing and reached out and picked at the icing with a finger, bringing it back to her and tasting it, "You had a food fight while making Christmas cookies?"

"Apparently," he grinned, finding her laughter contagious.

"Well, Santa. I think you have a few deliveries to make. I'm going to round up my team and wish them a Merry Christmas. Meet you later?"

"Of course, Samantha. SG-1 will be my last... stop," he told her, as they circled, each heading in a different direction down the hallway.

*****

A little while later, a much happier and culturally aware Santa Claus visited the main part of the infirmary, handing out the hastily wrapped presents which had been scrounged at the last minute. Although the presents themselves mainly consisted of clean BDU's and light bulbs, most of the base personnel appreciated the sentiment and more than a few enjoyed the amusing sight of seeing a Tok'ra trying ever so hard to play the role of the gift-giver. His symbiote was not impressed however, and when the sack was nearly empty, Lantesh convinced Martouf to change before going off to deliver presents to SG-1. The host argued for awhile, adamant that since Samantha had been the one who asked, he would comply. Lantesh simply reminded him to look in the mirror, he was not willing to appear foolish in front of a certain Air Force Colonel. Still, he had compromised, and the hat remained atop his head.

*****

The members of SG-1, had gathered in Janet's office where their Colonel was still recovering from the bug. Daniel was feeling better too, and had spent the better part of the morning apologising to Major Gormley for falling on her when he was sick. She had accepted his continual apologies, and finally after she agreed to have dinner with him the next week, he left her alone. Teal'c was Teal'c. He had done his duty, and then some. Ending up following every order and suggestion from Doctor Fraiser, including the one to stop working so hard and go chat with his team. Major Carter, still in charge of the SGC, had returned to the office with a smile on her face, and a pendant round her neck, which didn't go unnoticed by her teammates.

"So, did you work out Martouf's mistletoe misunderstanding?" Jack asked, unfortunately already certain of the answer. He watched as the colour in her cheeks darkened just slightly.

"Oh, yeah. Not a problem," she confirmed.

Daniel chimed in, "Did you... demonstrate?"

Sam threw him a look, the man could be evil sometimes, "Well, can you think of a better way to explain it?"

"Well, I could have told him all of the history and traditions leading up to the current custom. How it used to be a fertility charm... how the European plant is different from the North American plant. Did you know the North American plant is poisonous?" Daniel blathered.

"I think my way was more to the point," she assured him.

"New necklace, Carter? I don't think I've seen that one before? In fact, I don't recall you ever wearing a necklace before, 'cept for your tags. A present from Santa, maybe?" Jack teased.

Teal'c recognised what his friends were doing, and joined in the friendly ambush. "The pendant appears to be the same crystal formation as the Tok'ra tunnels. Is that not so, Major Carter?"

She was saved by the rough voice of Martouf as he entered the room, sans Santa suit, but still with the hat. "Ho, ho. I believe there are several presents still to be handed out to good children."

Sam bit her tongue.

"Umm... Marty, usually there are three ho ho ho's."

Martouf glared at Colonel O'Neill, managing to ignore Lantesh's silent cursing, and handed the man a present anyway, "Colonel, this is for you. Dr. Jackson, and Teal'c."

"Gee, thanks Santa," Daniel muttered, having unwrapped a box of Kleenex.

Teal'c opened his next, inside the newspaper was a dictionary of common English slang, "Thank-you, Martouf. I will appreciate this."

"Hey, doesn't that belong to--" Jack started, looking at Daniel. He was positive he had noticed it on Daniel's bookshelf before.

"Teal'c. It belongs to Teal'c," Sam interrupted, sending a not so subtle plea to her colonel. She had lifted the book herself, and knew exactly where it had come from. Men! she thought, frustrated.

Then Jack opened his, "A pair of finger less gloves. Gee, Santa how did you know?" The sarcasm was heavy in his voice before he noticed something, "Hey! These are my gloves!"

"Sorry, Colonel. We ran out of time. It's the thought that counts, anyway, right?" Sam said, kicking him under the bed. "Martouf, how is my dad?"

"He is better this morning, Samantha. He was asking about you earlier, and if you would join him soon. He knows you have been busy with the running of the facility, and I believe he is writing you a song," Martouf said.

Sam was puzzled, "A song?"

"Yes... it was about numbers, people and items. I believe part of it was: twelve Tok'ra tunnels, eleven Jaffa's jumping, ten system lords, nine priceless rocks--"

"Artifacts!" Daniel of course chimed in.

Martouf threw him a confused look before continuing, "Eight Asgards bluffing, seven chevrons spinning, six MRE's, five DHD's, four zat'ni'ki'tels, three BDU's, two balding generals, and the key to the SGC. The last line was meant for you, Samantha."

"Can you go and tell him I'll be there in a minute?" she asked, stifling a laugh, realizing she was going to have to sit through her Dad's singing, and pretend she hadn't already heard the words.

"Of course, Merry Christmas," and he left to do Sam's bidding, asking if Teal'c would accompany him.

After they left, Daniel muttered to Jack, something about having to chat with another Major, and made for the door, leaving Colonel and 2IC alone in the room, "How about a rematch, Carter? When I'm one-hundred percent?" he asked.

"No, I don't think so, sir," she stated.

"Afraid of losing, Carter?"

"No, but right now it's Carter: one, and O'Neill: zero, and I think I'd like to keep it that way for awhile," she said, her smile telling him to leave well enough alone.

"By the way, I was going through your record, and I think it's time for you to upgrade your hand-to-hand combat training to level four. I scheduled it for when you get back."

"I thought we were on stand-down for the next couple of weeks? I was going to use the time to--"

He interrupted knowing she would much rather work on whatever she did in her lab by herself, "We were, but our little exchange in the infirmary convinced me that our time would be better spent in combat training. So the whole gang is joining us."

She frowned, "Daniel and Teal'c aren't at level four."

"No, they're not. Neither am I. Daniel is about a level um... one, and Teal'c well, I think Teal'c's off the scale," he admitted. "I found an instructor who was willing to take us as a group and work on our individual needs."

"On short notice?" The disbelief plain in her tone.

"Yeah, it didn't take a lot to convince him."

The grin she kept only for him, appeared on her face, "So, Colonel, what levels are you authorized to teach?"

He smiled at her. Nothing got by Sam. "Up to level five, advanced. And Teal'c agreed to teach us a few Jaffa techniques as well." He watched as she rose from her spot and headed for the door, not saying anything. "Where are you going?"

She turned back towards him, "To apologise to Daniel."

He copied her grin, letting her go, "And Carter, be early, I'm evaluating you first."

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