Danny--entangled in memories of myth and artifact--misses them.
Teal'c files them away, to ask later when we are not under attack from laser bolts, energy beams, or sticks and stones.
Even as we dodge bullets, the lines around her eyes crinkle, and the corners of those soft lips twitch.
Later, the night air breathes relief through an open window. As I drift on the edge of consciousness, her voice is drowsy.
"That was *not* funny, by the way." Her hand is warm against the hollow of my back.
She laughs at my jokes.
The End
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