Sam ran her fingers through her hair, trying to push it into some sort of order. Maybe she should just go get it cut. It sure was easier to take care of when it was short but...well it was time for a change. It seemed every time things in her life got weird, she'd respond by changing her hair. It was an easy change to make after all.

After mom died, she'd gotten it cut off. Really short. At the time she'd told herself it was because it was easier to take care of. It was her mom who liked long hair anyway and she wasn't going to be around to braid it or...OK Sam, be honest with yourself. Your cut it off hoping if you looked a little less like mom maybe dad wouldn't avoid you so much. But it hadn't worked.

Over the years she'd grown it out, cut it off, finally using the Air Force regulations as a reason to keep it short. Face it; the military didn't have a lot of patience for an officer who had to go run do her hair before she could leave to bomb someone. And dealing with long hair off world...oh that would be a nightmare.

Though lately she had heard rumor of a pool starting up. Seems the people of the SGC were so curious about how long she'd let it grow and when she'd cut it, they were putting money down on it. Geez, dealing with the fate of the universe on a daily basis, you'd think they would have more important things to wonder about. Maybe she'd really throw them for a loop, go out and get it dyed bright Hathor red and shock the hell out of everyone. Or maybe she'd do it pink, like the Nox. Yeah, dye it pink and decorate it with leaves and branches.

She brought her hand to her mouth to smother a hated giggle as she imagined the look on everyone's faces if she came into work tomorrow with colored hair.

The colonel would just have to know about 'the hair'. Daniel? Oh Daniel would stutter out how nice it looked even if it looked horrible. Teal'c? That eyebrow would probably crawl right off his head. Though if he dared to say anything, she'd just remind him of that...thing on his chin. And the general? After the way SG-1 acted last week he'd probably have her committed to mental health. Heck it'd almost be worth it just to turn a few heads.

Oh God, the colonel's right. You need to get out of here, go check out the real world. You remember the one, where the only aliens are green card deficient individuals from across the border. The one where the Roswell Grays are still a myth.

When was the last time you went home? She asked herself. As she started to realize it was adding up to weeks instead of days she made her decision. She resolutely left the locker room, intent on reaching her lab, grabbing her keys and making her escape before something else happened.

She successfully reached her destination and dug in the drawer for her keys. Please God let my car start, she thought as she shut the drawer and began turning off her computers.

As she turned off the last one and started towards the door, the phone rang. She looked at the device with dread. The last time it had rang it had been Master Sergeant Davis informing her of an unauthorized off-world activation. And she still felt sick about the results of that.

She contemplated not answering it, then sighed as duty won out over her wishes. She tiredly picked up the receiver. "Carter," She said, grimacing as the irritation she felt crept into her voice. Hope it's not the general.

"Sam?" she heard, not quite recognizing the female voice on the other end of the line.

"Yes?"

"Hi. It's Sara," the woman said rather uncertainly.

"Ooh. Sara. Hi. How are you?" Sam asked, her voice warming as she recognized the voice of her CO's ex-wife.

"I'm fine. I heard you made it out ok too," she said referring to the injuries they both received when parties unknown in an effort to make the colonel assassinate Senator Kinsey a few weeks ago had kidnapped them.

"Few bumps and bruises. I got knocked around worse in basic training."

"Well I for one was sore for a week," Sara said wryly. "Actually I wasn't calling to compare scars. We aah…we never did have that dinner and …I know it's short notice but I was wondering if you were doing anything tonight?"

Sam thought for a second, remembering their conversation in the basement of that cabin. Sure they'd talked about dinner but she'd never really expected it to happen. Then again…why not? What did she have waiting at home anyway? Some dying plants and a frozen dinner. Maybe an old movie on cable? What the hell? The Colonel HAD ordered her to get a life. She was sure he hadn't meant with his ex but…"Sure Sara. That sounds great," Sam said, feeling a smile creep across her face.

"Fantastic. How about O'Malley's at 7?"

"Ooh…well, can we go somewhere else?"

"What? Did you guys get in a fight and get kicked out or something?" Sara asked, laughing a bit.

Sam flashed back to the …scuffle they'd had in the poolroom. Well they HADN'T been thrown out. Course they'd ran out the doors at near light speed but…prudence suggested O'Malley's was a place SG-1 should avoid for…oh a year or two should do it. "No. It's just…how about Zephyr's? They just opened one up here. I ate at one in DC and the food was pretty good," Sam suggested.

"Ok. I'm game. Seven still work?"

Sam glanced at her watch. 1500. She would have plenty of time to get home and change. "Yeah. Seven is great."

"Fantastic. I'll meet you there."

<><><><><>

"He did what?" Sam asked, setting down her second margarita of the evening.

Sara took a quick sip of hers and laughed. "Playing Mr. Macho, he had to carry me over the threshold. What he didn't know was the floor had just been waxed. He hit it wrong, his feet flew out from under him and we went splat in the entryway. THAT'S how he messed up his knee," Sara said thoroughly enjoying the delighted look on Sam's face.

There was a tiny niggling part of her that reminded herself that the woman was under Jack's command and maybe it wasn't appropriate for her to be telling Sam such things, but she quickly dismissed it. She figured if Jack trusted the woman she could too. And it wasn't like she was going to tell her about the second time he strained his knee. All in the name of fun and games and page 73 of the Kama Sutra.

"He always told us it was an old hockey injury," Sam giggled, enjoying the image of how her CO really hurt himself.

"More like an old nookie injury. He just doesn't like to admit we spent our wedding night in the ER."
Sam laughed at her commanding officer, a man who had a bad habit of taking Goa'uld on single-handedly not wanting to admit how he really got his trick knee.

This was absolutely priceless. Premium ammunition for the next time he decided to tease her about her hair or her doohickeys.

"You're going to use this to embarrass him aren't you?"

Sam had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Well…"

"Good. Jack needs to be taken down a peg or two every once in a while. He's insufferable when he's cocky."

"Ya think?" Sam quipped, causing both women to dissolve into laughter, gaining them a few glances form the scattered patrons of the restaurant.

They'd been in the steak house a couple of hours enjoying a leisurely dinner and then lingering over drinks and sinfully chocolate deserts.

Zephyr's was a quiet place, just enough off the beaten path to avoid most of the noisy Saturday night crowds. It specialized more on good food than a trendy atmosphere.

They had chatted about various topics, discovering things in common. Sara's mother had also died early, but of cancer rather than a car crash. Because of Jack's career, Sara actually had lived on some of the bases Sam did growing up. Her career as a photographer fitting in well with her husband's rather transient life style.

"So," Sara's voice grew serious. "I don't suppose you guys ever found out who was behind our little adventure?" She asked quietly.

Sam looked around the restaurant relieved to note it was pretty much deserted, probably due to a mix of a rainy night and the lateness of the hour. "No. Nothing definite," she replied quietly, knowing full well the maze of secrets and lies may never be unraveled.

"Still. It has something to do with the stargate?" Sara pressed.

"Umm…what exactly do you mean?" Sam asked uneasily. Sara had never pressed her before…well really pressed her for information.

"Just what Jack told me. That this Stargate is a project you two work on. Something to do with astronomy and radar and NORAD. Although I still can't see Jack being content to spend his days under a mountain looking at radar screens and telemetry readings. The last I knew he still couldn't program his VCR. I mean he used to get so restless if he was stood down too long I'd invent things for him to fix. I swear he was only content if he was jetting off to the far corners of the world blowing stuff up."

"Maybe he's…gotten tired of dodging bullets. I know I'd be perfectly happy if no one ever shot at me again," Sam said truthfully.

Sara shot her an appraising look. "You were in Desert Storm weren't you?"

"Yeah. I logged a lot of hours in enemy airspace."

"What's it like?" Sara asked wanting an insight to a part of his life her husband had kept from her.

Sam opened her mouth to respond then stopped as a commotion caught her attention.
She turned her head to see two men by the bar. She looked at them appraisingly. Their body language was wrong. They seemed nervous, on edge.

She glanced around and realized she and Sara were the only patrons in the restaurant save a slightly drunk salesman and a young couple obviously on a date.

"Sam?" The tone of her voice told Sam Sara was getting the same vibes she was.
The manager stepped forward and said something Sam couldn't hear. Whatever it was the man didn't like it. He abruptly pushed the manager back and pulled a pistol out of his jacket.

"Down!" Sam whispered urgently as she heard Sara gasp in surprise. They both slid down so they were crouched in the tiny space under the booth. "Do you have a cell phone?" Sam asked, searching for options. For once she wished she carried her personal weapon. From the glance she'd had she knew the man had an automatic pistol so, assuming it was loaded, he had at least seven bullets he could use. More than enough to go around.

"Yeah," Sara whispered, pulling her purse from the seat and digging out the phone.

"Call 911."

Sara nodded. "What are you going to do?" she asked as she dialed.

Sam shook her head. "I don't know," she whispered honestly. There was a part of her that wanted badly to walk up to the creeps and pound on them. Then the rational part of her mind asserted itself and reminded her not only was she unarmed, it was 2-1 odds and there were five other people around. Any one of which could get killed by her grand standing.

"Oh my god," Sara whispered.

"What?" Sam brought her attention back to the situation at hand. She saw the robbers roughly rounding up the people.

"I recognize that man. He's one of the escaped convicts from Texas," she whispered, her face showing her horror.

Sam looked at her then back at the men. She'd heard about them. A pair of convicts had escaped from a Texas jail over a month ago. They'd been convicted on multiple counts of murder and rape. Total bad guys as the colonel would say.

They weren't wearing masks and were making no attempt to conceal their identity. Which meant they didn't care if they were identified.

She saw one of them push the young couple, causing them to stumble into each other. There was maliciousness, a cruelty in his face that told her he was more than capable of cold-blooded murder.
She saw that the men were herding their captives towards where Sam and Sara were hiding. A quick glance confirmed that the door to the kitchen was just a few feet away. They'd have to go right by them.

"What are you going to do?" Sara asked, seeing Sam tense. She too knew there was no way they would remain undetected where they were hiding.

Sam grimaced. "Something…crazy. Stay back."

"Sam…"

Sam silenced her with a wave of her hand as the two gunmen pushed their hostages past their booth.
As the one with the gun passed her, Sam snaked out her hand and pulled him off balance. He fell on his face with a cry, the gun skittering across the tiles. Sam dashed out to deal with the second man. Her plans came to a sudden stop when he pointed a pistol at her. A pistol she hadn't known he had.

"Now, that just wasn't nice…" he drawled cockily.

Sam raised her hands in surrender. "Aah…hi," she said lamely, trying to figure out how to get out of this in one piece.

"I like a woman with spunk…" The rest of his threat remained unvoiced as Sara slammed the heavy metal plate her dinner had been served on down on his head sending the would be robber to his knees.

Sam dashed forward and yanked the pistol from the crook's unresisting hand. She expertly stepped back and pointed the pistol at the two men. "Don't!" she yelled as the first robber tried to get to his feet.

"Give me your belt," Sara demanded of the shocked bartender.

Within minutes the police had arrived and taken the two robbers into custody. The two women gave their statements then quietly slipped away as the press began to arrive, eager to report on the capture of the escapees…by two women no less.

"Why is it every time we get together there's a lunatic with a gun?" Sara asked Sam standing beside her car and watching the milling crowd drawn by the flashing lights.

"I don't know. But it's a habit we really should break," Sam said.

Sara laughed then turned serious. "You know, I never did thank you."

Sam frowned. "For what?"

"Back at the mountain. When you stayed behind. That guy would have killed both of us."

Sam shook her head. "You knew where we were. If you hadn't have called for help…"

"If it wouldn't have been for me none of it would have happened," Sara reminded.

"Actually if they hadn't have been trying to blackmail the colonel none of it would have happened," Sam said thoughtfully.

Sara paused, then laughed. "Yeah. It's Jack's fault," she agreed with a smile. "You know, we didn't get the chance to stick him with the check." In fact no one had been stuck with the check, the manager of the restaurant having declared all the victim's meals on the house. "I guess we're just going to have to do it again," Sara declared.

"That sounds like fun," Sam answered honestly digging for her keys as Sara unlocked and opened her car door.

"Maybe we can go to a movie," Sara suggested.

"That sounds great. Give me a call sometime. Just…don't freak if I don't call you right back. Sometime we…go out of town for a while," Sam warned, cringing a bit at the lie. Well technically it wasn't a lie. Being on another planet WAS out of town…way out.

"Ok," Sara agreed. "Just…do yourself a favor."

"What?"

"If Jack ever wants to show you his cabin where the bass are 'this big'," Sara said, holding her hands about a yard apart. "Don't fall for it."

"Why?" Sam asked intrigued.

"There's no electricity, the roof leaks, the pond is empty and the mosquitoes are terrible."

<><><><><>

The next morning Sam strolled into the commissary, grabbed a muffin and coffee and joined her friends.
As she sat down Jack looked up from his newspaper and gave her an odd look.

"What?"

"Hot date last night?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"We tried calling and you weren't home. Then we called here and you weren't here so…"

"I WAS off duty colonel."

"Don't let Jack bug you," Daniel said with a smirk. "He was just looking for someone to grab us some food and thought of you."

"Ooh…" Sam replied knowingly. "Well I seem to remember some lecture about getting a life…" she started trying not to smile as Jack rolled his eyes. Not for the first time he regretted shooting his mouth off.

"Aah will you lookee here," Jack said, eager to change the subject. He folded the paper and held it up for all to see.

'Blond Duo Captures Escapees' the headline read.

Sam fought to keep a straight face as she skimmed the article, relieved to see neither hers or Sara's names appeared.

"Wow," Daniel said, slightly disturbed to realize that there had been murders running around the city.

"Those guys have been on the lamb for over a month."

"Yeah, and the wonder twins took them out barehanded. Hey, maybe I should get Hammond to talk to the police. We should recruit them."

"By all means sir. Definitely," Sam said. "Of course you realize the more women we get around here the more we'll need our own locker room. Last I heard they were talking about using your office…"
Daniel fought back a snigger at the panicked look on Jack's face. "Come on Daniel, let's go…somewhere," Jack said, quickly getting to his feet.

As he started to walk away Sam noticed a slight hitch in his step. "Sir? What happened?"

"That's why he was looking for someone to get food. He slipped and twisted his knee," Daniel explained.

"Just an old war wound," Jack dismissed. "It's nothing," he said in a blatant attempt at sympathy.
Sam gained her feet and stood beside her CO. "I'm sure you'll be fine sir. I know you have a high THRESHOLD for pain," she quipped as she walked away reveling in the frown on his face. Getting the last word was a beautiful thing.

~Fin~

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