samandjack.net

Story Notes: Email: majorsamcole@aol.com

Status: complete

Spoiler: none

Season: five/sixish, but could be any really

Archive: SJD, Heliopolis

Author's note: This has been sitting on my computer for over two months now, glad my new muse and I finally managed to help it get up and leave. Hope you like it :-)


Slowly one eye opened. Then the other one.

2:56 am

Sweet. Another five minutes of his life gone by.

Sighing he drew his eyes away from the alarm-clock on the nightstand and turned around, wincing and cursing when his back protested against the sudden movement by sending a sharp pain up his spine. His back hadn't hurt almost three hours ago when his body had slumped onto to mattress. So why did it hurt now? There was only one reason he could think of: To get back at him for jumping through the gate this afternoon, or rather to get back at him for not preparing better for what had followed the jumping part. In short: Ouch.

He turned around to the left side and stared at the grey wall. If that colour wouldn't make him doze off then nothing would. Staying at the SGC had been a stupid idea from the start, but he had been so tired after the debriefing that he had actually thought about putting his feet up on the briefing-room table and falling asleep right then and there.

He closed his eyes and tried to will his mind and body to rest. It was so stupid. Really stupid. He was too tired to fall asleep. He turned around to the other side, only to be greeted by the accusing red numbers on the alarm-clock.

3:00 am

Oh joy. Another four minutes wasted.

Jack shifted again, until he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. He frowned. There was not even one tiny hole or spot on the grey surface. Nothing to examine, nothing to think about, nothing to . . .count. Maybe he should put some stickers up there. Something that glowed in the dark. Like stars. Or comets. Or planets. Hell, he'd even settle for Barney or Winnie the Pooh. Okay, more likely Winnie the Pooh. Or even more likely that grumpy blue donkey. Jack rolled his eyes. God, this was *so* ridicules.

Sighing he got up, wincing as his back reminded him that it was still pissed at him. Jack swore under his breath while he pulled the black t-shirt over his head. He put on his BDUs and found himself suddenly standing slightly confused in the middle of the room like a man waiting for the bus.

Great. So he was up. But had he thought about what to do next?

Nope.

Great move, O'Neill.

He looked at the door and shrugged. Maybe a walk would help. That and a glass of hot milk, which he was pretty certain he'd be able to get from the commissary without anyone noticing. After all he was an Air Force Colonel and Black Ops trained. Milk was not even acceptable as an addition to coffee for men like him.

Yeahsureahcrap

He shook his head and headed out into the quiet corridor.

*****

Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Major Samantha Carter let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a growl, snatched the pillow from under her chin and pulled it over her head. She waited for a few seconds to see if the action had done anything to change the current situation.

Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

No. Apparently not. Cursing Sam tossed the pillow aside and turned around. She glared at the ceiling with a furious twinkle in her eyes. The water-pipe, that rested somewhere above her head, was obviously not impressed with her glare of death and continued humming its happy tune. Sam sighed. Okay, so she loved taking a long shower herself, but this was insane. The water had been running for almost an hour now. She knew that this pipe was leading to the locker-room and thought about getting up and throwing the shower-fanatic out into the corridor with only a bar of soap for clothing.

But of course she didn't.

Instead she turned her head, looking for the pillow she had thrown away earlier. She reached out a hand and snatched it, placing it back under her head. Sighing again she closed her eyes. Think about something nice, she told herself. Think about a happy place.

Out of the depths of her imagination an image formed in her mind. She stood on the bank of a beautiful lake, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow onto the small waves on the surface of the water. She felt someone approaching and suddenly there were hands around her waist and she was pulled against a strong body. Sam leaned into him, her eyes still cast on the waves on the lake.

"'Like that?" a familiar male voice asked.

Sam nodded and moved her hands over his. She felt his breath on her neck and closed her eyes, enjoying being so close to him.

"You're talking about the view, right?" she asked teasingly.

He chuckled. "Among other things."

Sam sighed. The setting sun, the silence around the lake, the soft breeze brushing over her bare arms, the feel of his hands around her waist, his lips touching her neck - this was perfect.

"Got to go." He suddenly said and let go. Sam blinked in confusion at the unexpected loss of physical contact.

"What? Why?"

"Shower", he explained.

"Excuse me?"

"I have to take a shower."

"What? Now?"

"Sam, body hygiene is very important, you know", he lectured her.

"But . . ."

He was already gone and her protest lost in the sound of .....

Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Her eyes snapped open and a frustrated growl escaped her throat. So much for retreating to a "happy place". Knowing perfectly well that she would not be able to find any sleep now, she pushed the covers back and got up. Maybe a walk would calm her down and if not, well there was this one experiment she had not been able to finish tonight. She glanced at the alarm-clock. No, make that yesterday, she corrected herself.

Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Staying at the SGC had been a bad idea from the start.

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

Jack slowly pushed the door open, just far enough to stick his head into the room. His eyes searched the perimeter for a sign of the enemy. When he felt certain that it was safe to advance, he slipped into the room, careful not to make a sound. The lights were turned down a bit, leaving the room in a greyish kind of light. Jack swiftly manouvered himself around the various obstacles standing between him and the door in the back of the room. He peeked through the round windows into the kitchen, scanning it for possible attackers aka Airmen Hiller and Levin who were currently serving their country by defending it against dirt, bacteria and old french fries, their only weapon being a super-size bottle of Mister Clean. Jack briefly wondered what it was they had done to derserve being put on cleaning duty the second week in a row. He blinked, trying to concentrate on the task ahead. Thankfully the door to the kitchen wasn't locked and he entered the room without making a sound. The next minutes were spent in the intense search for lactose products of any kind. Jack grinned triumphantly when he finally held a bottle of milk in his hands. Mission accomplished. Well, almost. When the door of the microwave opened with an extremely annoying and loud "Ping" he flinched and caught his breath.

Nothing happened.

He hadn't been detected.

Good.

Jack smiled, as he retrieved the cup from the microwave a minute later. Ah, milk. Hot milk. The perfect antidote to insomnia. He stepped out of the kitchen and thought about returning to his quarters. But then again he would have to carry the cup through all those corridors and there was a good chance he was going to run into some other insominac - or worse, someone who was actually working at this late hour. So Jack pulled up the nearest chair and sat down. The first sip of milk almost burned his lips, but he didn't care. The smell and taste of the liquid brought back a lot of memories. He remembered his mother handing him his favorite blue cup, filled with milk and just a spoonful of honey when he couldn't sleep as a child. Ah, the good old days, when the really important things were still simple. Lost in his thoughts, Jack didn't hear the door open. He didn't see a dark figure scanning the room and he did by all means not see her approaching. When he finally did it was too late.

Jack jumped ten feet in the air.

Soft laughter followed his spontaneous circus act. "Sorry, Sir, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Carter!"

Oops, was his voice really this squeaky? Jack cleared his throat. After all he was El Colonel. Jack O'NoFear. A warrior of great skill and cunning - aaaand apparently with bad hearing and worse eyesight or how else had she been able to sneak up on him like that?

"You didn't startle me, I was just ... stretching my back."

He watched as Sam started to cast the look of doubt on him. Head slightly tilted, eyes cast upwards at him, an amused sparkle in their blue depths. She smiled at him.

"Really?"

"Yup."

"So did it help, Sir?"

Jack blinked. "Huh?"

Sam pointed at him. "The back. Stretching. Did it help?"

"Oh, yeah, sure", Jack hurried to answer and decided to sit down again. Sam silently slid on the chair next to his. She was about to say something, when her eyes caught the cup placed on the table and the white liquid it was holding. The smile got broader. Before she could make a comment, O'Neill cleared his throat again.

"So", he grabbed the cup and pulled it closer to his side of the table.

"What are you doing here at this late hour? And don't say work", he added, giving her a mock glare. Sam shook her head.

"It's that damn water-pipe that is running above my quarters. Some moron has been using the shower for over an hour now. It was either taking a stroll through the corridors or throwing the idiot out of the locker-room."

Jack chuckled.

Sam blinked.

"What?"

"Nothing, well, I'm just picturing you throwing a naked Teal'c out of the locker-room."

Sam's eyes grew wide. "Teal'c? Teal'c's the person who is depriving me of my really needed sleep?"

"Yup."

"What ...?"

"Ah" Jack raised his hand. "Believe me, you don't want to ask that question."

Sam looked at him. "I don't?"

Jack shook his head. "Na ah. You don't."

"Okay, then I'll ask another one: What are you doing here, Sir?"

Jack sighed and shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

Sam waited for him to continue, but he obviously thought that he had provided her with enough information already. Knowing perfectly well that he would not open his mouth again unless encouraged to do so she asked.

"Why?"

A shrug. Okay, so maybe it would take some more encouragement then a single three-letter-word to get him to talk, but a shrug was at least some kind of reaction. Better than nothing. Sensing she was not satisfied with the non-verbal answer he had given her, he . . shrugged again.

Very articulate, O'Neill. Okay, let's try this again.

"Sounds dumb, but I'm too tired to sleep."

Sam shook her head. "No, it does not. I know exactly what you mean, Sir."

Jack started rubbing his neck and winced. Sam looked at him with a concerned frown.

"Everything okay, Sir?"

"Yeah, just a little tense from all the falling and jumping and running this afternoon."

"Maybe Janet could ..."

"I'm not going to see *that* woman" Jack interrupted her. Sam grinned.

"Afraid of needles, Sir?"

"No, but my eyes hurt like hell already, so I'll try to stay as far away from that pen-light of hers as possible. Hey, you're her friend, maybe you could - ha, here comes a joke - shed some light on this: Is there really a medical reason for using that thing every time one of us ends up in the infirmary? "

Sam laughed, a clear, soft and relaxed sound that warmed Jack's heart. She shook her head.

"You don't want to ask that question, Sir", she answered.

Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise: "Really?"

"Really."

They both smiled at each other. Suddenly Sam wasn't angry to be up at this late hour anymore. In fact she made a mental note to thank Teal'c for keeping her awake. This was nice. Really nice. And it had been a long time since they had shared a moment like this. Just the two of them, talking, smiling at each other, enjoying the silence and peace of ...

Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Sam closed her eyes. Why was that sound so familiar? Sam and Jack turned and both flinched a moment later, when the lights flickered on, chasing away the cosy darkness and replacing it with a merciless brightness.The silence was shattered by the thumping of heavy boots on the floor. The doors of the kitchen opened and a man stepped out into the commissary. He blinked in surprise.

"Sir! M'am! Sorry, I didn't know you were in here."

"That's okay, Airman, we were . . ."

The sound of a chair being pushed back, drowned Sam's next words. O'Neill had gotten up and hurried on to say: "Nothing important happened here, really Airman, just forget we were in here at all. Come on, Major, let's get out of here, so Airman Hiller can get to work."

He tugged at the sleeve of Sam's shirt, then rushed out of the room without another word. When Sam finally caught up with him in the corridor she gave him an annoyed look.

"What was that all about, Sir?"

Sie tried not to interpret his words the way they had sounded to her. She tried not to think about what this "nothing happened"-remark could have meant.

"Nothing, I just think that Hiller should be able to do his job without two people standing in his way all the time."

Sam clenched her fists. Was he embarrassed to have been seen with her? Then her eyes spotted the object the Colonel held protectively against his chest and she smiled

a) because she was relieved that her assessment of his words had been wrong
b) because it was kind of sweet that he would be embarrassed about being caught drinking hot milk and...
c) because the look on his face right now was just so 100-percent- Jack-O'Neill - and therefore 110 percent cute.

He frowned. "What?"

Sam's eyes wandered to the cup, then back up to his face and she tilted her head.

"I told you I couldn't sleep", he defended himself.

Sam smiled.

"I haven't said a word, Sir."

"If you tell this to anyone, Carter, I swear . . ."

"I won't. I promise. Under one condition."

Jack looked at her with suspicion.

"Which is?"

"You share the rest with me, because I can't sleep either."

Jack looked into his cup, then at her, then back into the cup. Finally he nodded. "Okay, deal, but I have to warn you: So far it has not been helping at all."

"Did you put honey in there?"

O'Neill's eyes widened in shock. He turned around, making sure no one was close by, before he leaned closer to Sam and whispered.

"Yep, but . ."

"..don't tell anyone, I know, Sir."

Sam whispered back, mirroring his movements and thus moving closer as she spoke. Suddenly silence spread across the corridor as the two just stood there, neither willing to move. Their eyes met for a second. Suddenly Carter looked to the ground, her cheeks gaining quite some colour as she realised just *how* close they suddenly were. Jack blinked as realisation dawned on him.

More silence.

And no movement.

Suddenly Jack felt again this strange urge to look at a time-table for the bus. Destination "Whatnow Way" via "Thinkofsomething Terrace", next stop "Dosomethingyoujerk Drive". He didn't have to make the decision where to get off , because a moment later a light squeek announced the approach of another nightly traveller. Jack turned around and saw a shadow approaching. He looked back at Carter and motioned his 2IC to follow him. Fast, but not too fast they walked down the corridor, both turning from time to time, making sure they were not followed. Suddenly the sounds behind them stopped. Squeeky Boots was gone.

"Hey, look where the yellow brick road has taken us", Jack suddenly quipped. Sam followed his gaze.

The locker-room.

The source of her fit of insomnia and holy center of all Jaffa- cleansing-rituals. Which meant . . .

"Is Teal'c . . ?", she asked. Jack looked at his watch and shook his head.

"Nope, I guess, we're safe."

"What do you mean by safe?"

Jack just gave her a do-you-really-have-to-ask-look and Sam answered with a brief nod.

"Right. I do not want to know."

"Smart girl", Jack mumbled, as he pushed the door open. Sam frowned.

"Sir?"

"What?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "The *locker room*? You serious?"

He looked at her innocently: "Yeah, why not?"

"Because . ."

"Carter", he interrupted her. "if we don't settle down soon, we have to head back to the commissary for breakfast." She sighed. Okay, this was a weird night anyway, so why stop here? So she was sharing a cup of hot milk and honey with her CO at a kind of secret date in the locker-room of the SGC which had recently been occupied by a naked Jaffa doing something she definitly didn't want to know and all of this because she had been trying to fall asleep and had ended up with this strange dream about above said CO telling her about the importance of body hygiene.

Life is the early edition of the National Enquirer.

She sighed and followed O'Neill into the dark room. Only the emergency lights were up, but it was enough. Jack didn't waste any time and dropped his body unceremoniously onto the bench. Sam watched him for a moment and concern flashed across her face. He really looked pretty tired. Jack caught her glance and grinned. "You don't look like the bright shining morning yourself, ya know?"

Sam returned the grin and sat down next to him.

"And what do you suggest I do about it, Sir?" she asked. Without making a comment he handed the not-so-hot-anymore milk to her. Sam took a sip and even though the liquid was almost cold now, the sweet taste of it made her stomach feel warm in a instant. A smile formed on her lips as she rested her head against the back of the bench. Jack turned his head to face her, the rest of his body being too tired to move.

"That help?"

Sam grinned. "Oh yeeeeeah."

Jack chuckled and Sam turned her own head to face him.

"What, Sir?"

"Nothin'."

The grin on his face had almost reached to size of Minnesota. The sparkle in his eyes told Sam that he was not going to make it easy for her to find out what he was thinking. That and the fact that her deductive skills were practically non-existent at the moment because all of her brain-power was used to store yet another piece of information in her cute-jack-o-neill-expressions-memory center.

God, she needed to get some *sleep*.

"Okay, Carter, since this seems to work for you, just drink the rest of if, too."

"Thank you, Sir. But what about you? I mean after all this trouble you went through to get this...."

O'Neill waved his hand dismissivly at the cup. "Ah, forget about it. I'll just go back to counting Nox."

"Counting Nox?"

"Yeah, you know. Nox. Jumping through the gate. One Nox, two Nox, three Nox . . ."

"I get it, Sir", Sam replied laughing. Jack grinned, crossed his arms in front of his chest and let his body slide into a more comfortable position on the bench. "So what about you?"

"Sir?"

"What do you do to fall asleep?"

Sam raised the object in her hands. "Aside from drinking hot milk? Well, I've actually tried a couple of things, but nothing seems to work, when you really need it."

"Come on, Carter, it's just me and a couple of towels, and towels are renowned throughout the galaxy for keeping sweat and secrets, so you can tell us. Really."

Uh, well, actually . . .

"Yes, Sir."

Actually . . .

"Well, you see . . "

Sam's brain to Sam's mouth: Don't say another word.

"...this might sound dumb . ."

*might*???

"I try to think of a happy place."

He didn't laugh. He didn't grin. He didn't even blink. He just looked at her and asked.

"Such as?"

Uh...

"My lab."

The process of mental forehead-slapping was developing into an art- form tonight.

Sam bit her tongue, trying not to fall for the look he gave her right now. He knew. He knew she was not telling the truth, but he didn't say anything, just looked at her with those wonderful deep brown eyes. Sam gave in.

"Okay, that was lame. It's not my lab. It's . . . different every time I guess, depending on my mood. Sometimes it's a park on a bright sunny day where you can take a walk to clear your head, or a place where it's dark and quiet and you can look up at the stars. Or a beautiful lake where . . ."

". . . you can fish?"

Uh uh. He *really* knew.

Sensing that she was ready to get up and run and knowing fully well, that pushing her adrenalin level to the limit was not really helping cure her insomnia, he hastily added.

"Or the briefing-room where Daniel's lectures on rock number 56739/564 is making you really drowsy."

Tense shoulders relaxed and the head that had left the back of the bench a second ago, dropped back against the dark wood. Jack O'Neill closed his eyes, as he felt Sam relaxing beside him. He grinned.

"Soooo... happy place, huh?"

"As I said, it sounds kind of dumb, Sir."

"No. Not at all."

She looked at him, wondering if he was just being polite, but Jack O'Neill was never just polite for the fun of it. So it seemed he really understood what she meant. Sam had to admit, she was surprised. And curious. So she asked:

"What's your happy place?"

"Huh?"

"Your happy place, Sir. What would it be?"

He opened his eyes, but they didn't look at her, just kept fixed firmly on the ground. The smile that had previously lit his face was fading quickly.

"I guess I don't have one."

He shrugged and closed his eyes again. Sam looked at him. Sometimes she forgot how much he had already gone through in his life. And Jack O'Neill made it easy for the people around him to forget that, either by making them angry or laugh. Pretty good strategy.

Sam decided to change the subject, not wanting to change the light mood of their conversation. There was too much pain in their lives already. They deserved a break. He deserved a break.

"Anyway, my Dad often couldn't sleep because the muscles in his back and shoulders were so tense that the strain and pain was keeping him awake all night. But the second I started massaging his shoulders, he dozed off. Worked like a charm."

O'Neill opened his eyes. "Jacob? Really? Wow, I thought you'd need something like the Vulcan neck-pinch to get him to sleep."

The smile returned on both their faces. Jack sighed and started shifting on the bench, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"You think that's genetic?"

Sam smiled. "Not really. I'm more of a hot bath type, when it comes tense shoulders I guess."

O'Neill shifted again, his back - obviously aware of the topic of conversation - suddenly making itself and its anger heard again. O'Neill nodded his head towards the back of the room. "Okay, then go ahead and dive in, if it helps.", he said. Sam shook her head. "Tense muscles are not responsible for this fit of insomnia tonight."

"Hey, speak for yourself", O'Neill grumbled and started rubbing his neck. Sam grinned at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Jack caught her look.

"Oh yeah, I know, I'm getting old, thank you very much."

"That was not what I wanted to say, Sir."

"Yes it was."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes ist was."

"No it wasn't"

O'Neill frowned, tilted his head and looked at her suspicously.

"Daniel, is that you?"

Sam started laughing and shook her head. "Seriously, Sir, that was not what I had wanted to say."

"Then what?"

"I wanted to suggest trying to land on your two feet next time you jump through the gate."

"Very funny, Carter. Very funny", he growled.

Sam yawned. "You're welcome, Sir."

"You tired?"

He slapped his forehead, as soon as the words had left his mouth. He rolled his eyes and shouted.

"O'Neill aims, hits and scores! The Minnesota No-Brainers win 3 to nothing."

Sam started laughing harder - and immediately knew she was lost. Triggering laughter in her state of mind was not a good idea. A minute later O'Neill found himself sitting next to a crying, shaking, giggling major who held her hands protectively against her stomach.

He frowned.

"It wasn't *that* funny", he remarked.

"I .. know...", Sam managed to say between laughing and gigling. Jack crossed his arms in front of his chest. "So now I am old, clumsy *and* not funny? Boy, you sure know how to crush a guys spirit, Carter."

"Stop . . .it . . "

He grinned mischieveouly as he realised the potential this little scenario had.

Oh, this was going to be fun. . .

"Have I told you that joke about . . "

"..Sir . . ."

"Oh and speaking of funny things, there this other joke that cracks me up every time ...."

Suddenly the fist that somehow belonged to shaking blonde bundle that uttered strange noises, made contact with his arm.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it."

"Stop what?" Jack asked innocently. The fist opened and turned into a hand that rushed back to its former place over Sam's stomach. Jack ginned.

"You know what I always wondered?"

"Wwww....haaatt?"

"Are you ticklish?"

"Sir!" Suddenly worried that his favorite Major was in danger of suffocating, he raised his hands in surrender and said. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. big promise."

It took two more minutes for Sam to calm down and when the last sound of laughter left her lips, she dropped her head exhausted on the back of the bench.

"So, you finished?", Jack asked, prompting an annoyed look from the woman beside him. But the annoyance left her features in a matter of seconds and was replaced by a relaxed yet somewhat embarrased expression.

"Sorry.", she said, shaking her head. "Happens sometimes, when I'm really tired."

"Wow, that means that I have never seen your really tired before." O'Neill answered, rubbing his neck again. Sam frowned.

"Maybe you really should let Janet take a look at this, Sir."

"Ah nah,. Just tense. Gonna go away again."

as always: Very articulate, Jack.

Having decided earlier that his was a weird night, Sam wasn't really surprised by her next thought - or that it suddenly left her mouth in the form of an order.

"Turn around, Sir."

"What?"

"Turn your back at me."

He frowned, tilted his head and asked slowly. "Aaaaaand why would I do that?"

Sam grinned. "Just humour me, Sir."

The frown deepened, but eventually the body on the bench moved and turned. Sam felt her heart beating faster as realisation dawned on her somewhat drowsy mind what she was about to do. But the thing about being drowsy was, that it was a state, where you were as much a part or reality as a part of your own dreamworld - and that was a world, where some things suddenly made *perfect* sense.

Like touching his shoulders, feeling the muscles beneath the fabirc of the t-shirt.

Or starting to apply pressure to those muscles, trying to ease the tension and chase the pain away.

Or him letting out a sigh at her touch and closing his eyes, as her fingers worked magic on this back.

And of course it made more than perfect sense for her to slide her hands beneath the t-shirt, thus making him moan softly.

What did not make sense however was the fact that her heart did not beat faster, but in fact slower.

That her eyes just refused to stay open.

That her hands suddenly stopped what they were doing, because it seemed too exhausting .

"Carter?". Did she also have a hearing problem, or were his words kind of quiet and slighly slurred?

"Hm."

Oh, cool, vocal cords were shutting down too. Great.

She managed to pull her hands back from under his shirt, but since she apparently had forgotten where she was supposed to keep them until she needed them again, she placed them back on his shoulders, a huge yawn escaping her mouth.

"Carter, I think we're falling asleep", he mumbled, his words a mere whisper now.

"Shouldn't have drunk that milk, I guess", Sam replied her voice equally sleepy.

She felt the world around her disappearing into darkness as sleep took over and her body started sliding to the left.

After turning around and catching her body with his own, after placing an arm around her shoulder and resting his head against hers and after softly kissing her hair and mumbling something that he hoped had come out as "Sweet dreams, Carter" Jack followed her to the land of dreams.

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

The door to the locker-room opened and bright light started to chase the darkness away. Even in his sleep Jack realised that something was different and felt himself drifting towards conciousness, but suddenly the darkness returned, as the door was closing again. Before drifting completely back to sleep Jack could hear two muffled voices in the distance.

"What are they doing in there?"

"Believe me, DanielJackson, you do not want to know."

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

That's it, hope you liked it :-)




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