He’d been dreaming of other things, all right. Things more interesting than a puddle of water. He’d noticed how Carlin looked at him then quickly looked away. Made him wonder if Carlin was dreaming of other things too.

So Carlin said to dig beneath the surface, question everything. He didn’t remember how he met Thera. He’d assumed they’d met in the mines because she’d always been there. He didn’t remember a time without her. He never questioned it because her presence felt right. If they were members of a team, like she suggested, it would make sense.

"We have to keep this to ourselves. If the others hear us talking like this they’ll think we are nightsick."

"What if we are nightsick?"

It was a possibility. He remembered others who had been nightsick, ranting about conspiracies too preposterous to believe. About false memories and lost lives. At least he thought he remembered.

"I don’t think so, Sir."

Sir. It sounded strange, yet it didn’t. It sounded natural, but he wasn’t Thera’s supervisor.

If they were a team, and he was in charge, then Thera might call him Sir. Though why would he be in charge and not Carlin? Carlin knew a lot more about what it was they were supposed to be doing. At least it seemed he did. Jona had been a foreman in the mines, so why not him? Obviously he had leadership potential. Thera wasn’t exactly submissive, but she looked to him for approval. Jona never questioned it before.

There were a lot of things he never questioned before. Like his relationship with Thera. Like the way he felt when Carlin stared at him. Like Thera’s hostility toward Carlin.

Thera thought Kegan’s hostility had been unprovoked, but Thera had gone out of her way to get in Carlin’s face. Two days before the bread incident, Jona had noticed Carlin staring at him while they waited in line. Thera had noticed too.

"I’ll catch up with you later," he said to Thera and followed Carlin. She didn’t say anything, but she looked confused and hurt, yet not surprised as if some part of her waited for Jona to reject her. She always looked like that whenever he brushed off her advances. He’d told her that he just couldn’t ‘do it’ with all those people in the same room. Which was only half true.

"Carlin, wait up."

"Jona." Carlin slowed his pace and they walked in silence for a while.

They were by the kitchen. Carlin stopped by the service table and pushed an empty bread tray around. Jona knew the gesture. Jona fiddled with things as avoidance. He knew Carlin had picked up that trait from him. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but he was absolutely positive.

"Do you think we were friends?"

Carlin leaned against the table. "Yes."

So did Jona. But there was more. He felt drawn to Carlin in a way he didn’t feel with Thera. When Carlin was in the room, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. When Carlin stood near him, he could barely contain the urge to touch him.

"That’s all?"

Carlin met his eye. "No," he whispered.

Carlin took Jona’s hand and led him into the kitchen. In the dark room they kissed and undressed and made love on top of a workbench. Jona remembered wanting to touch Carlin, wanting to kiss him and feel him. He remembered crying a name in ecstasy that wasn’t ‘Carlin’, but the face had been the same.

"I remember wanting you," he said into Carlin’s hair.

"I remember…" Carlin pushed himself on his hands and knees so that he was hovering over Jona. They kissed before Carlin continued. "I remember wanting you, but being afraid to. I don’t remember why."

Yeah, Jona felt something similar. Not fear, but a sense of shame associated with his desire.

"Do you think we shouldn’t have done this?"

"No."

"No, what?"

"What, what?"

"No, you don’t think we shouldn’t have done this, or no, we shouldn’t have done this?"

Carlin smiled. It felt familiar. "No, I don’t think we shouldn’t have done this. But I do think we should get back before we’re missed."

Sex among the workers was not officially prohibited, nor was it encouraged. Workers invariably paired off, but the lack of privacy made coupling infrequent. Those who were caught in compromising positions were separated immediately. None of them could afford to draw attention to themselves if they were going to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

Silently, they dressed and parted ways. Thera pretended to be asleep when Jona returned to bed. Jona pretended not to notice.

*****

The next day, Carlin was all business. He didn’t react at all when Jona said he’d dreamt of mining naked. It was as if nothing had happened.

He remembered more. He remembered Tor and the bald guy, Homer. He also felt apprehensive about what he and Carlin had done. He felt a great sense of foreboding that he couldn’t explain. While he remembered wanting Carlin, he remembered there was a reason he had never acted on it. But he still couldn’t remember why.

Maybe Carlin was feeling the same thing. He’d said he remembered being afraid. There was no way to ask him.

It was hard to act normal. Work was horribly boring. Carlin’s grandiose ideas were contagious and were having a negative effect on his productivity. Thera followed him everywhere. He couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t acting normal – not that he knew what normal was. She was feeling jealous and possessive and insecure. With good reason.

Guilt kept him awake. Guilt over Tor because he remembered that they were friends and Tor was still sick. Guilt over Thera, because he couldn’t return her feelings. And guilt over Carlin, because he felt for Carlin what Thera wanted him to feel for her.

She tried to hold on to him when he got up from their bed. She wrapped her legs and arms around him and nuzzled her head into his neck. Finally she opened her eyes, abandoning the pretense of sleep when Jona detached himself and stood.

"Jona," she whispered. "Don’t go."

Did she know where he was going? Had she guessed what he’d been dreaming about? The scene was familiar; she had reached out to him before and he had pushed her away.

"I need to stretch my legs."

He walked through the network of tunnels and rooms in the underground refuge. The way was familiar, but each time he rounded a corner he expected to see something else. A pristine hallway with colored lines on the floor. A room with lots of blinking equipment and metal doors. Magnetic key cards.

What were magnetic key cards?

If he concentrated, he could hear the crisp sound of footsteps, hear familiar voices calling his name. It wasn’t "Jona" but he couldn’t hear it clearly. He could almost make out the faces of ghosts walking the phantom hallways in his mind. And then they were gone.

Eventually, his wandering brought him to the kitchen. He leaned against the table where he and Carlin had made love. He closed his eyes and remembered the heat of Carlin’s skin, the hidden strength in his legs and chest, the surprising softness of his lips.

A sound behind him broke the reverie and Jona spun on his heel, knees bent, hands in front of him. Carlin was sitting on the floor, leaning against a wall.

"Hey."

"Hey." Jona was pleased. He smiled and licked his lips. His heart pounded in his chest as he sat down next to Carlin. It was stupid to be so nervous and excited. He was an adult, a supervisor, a commander. Not some wet-behind-the-ears airman.

Airman?

"Couldn’t sleep."

"Me too."

Jona was relieved. He wasn’t suffering alone.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked Carlin, because that’s what he had always done. Jona knew it.

"No."

"Good."

He leaned over and kissed Carlin’s lips. Carlin opened his mouth and pulled Jona to the floor.

They held hands as they silently walked back to the residential area.

Thera was still awake when he lay down. She did not snuggle against him, but lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her nose was red and her eyes were puffy.

"Why him and not me?"

He rolled over and closed his eyes. How could he answer that?

*****

Jona was relieved when they were summoned to Brenna’s quarters the next day. The gradual return of their memories was getting them nowhere. Brenna gave them the basic framework of their lives, and a way out.

It wasn’t that lost memories were suddenly returning, but he had the context for his feelings. He knew why he trusted Teal’c with his life and that Daniel wouldn’t leave until they freed the workers. He knew why Carter looked disappointed as "Colonel" sunk in, and that he was at fault.

On the way home, he tried not to think of Carter and what might have transpired between them. Just as he tried not to think of Daniel and what did transpire between them. It was amazing how much trouble he could get into in such a short time. As they walked through the halls of the SGC, Carter kept looking at him, trying to catch his eye, trying to make contact. Daniel kept looking away.

Fraiser gave them a clean bill of health, mentioning that they were all, except Teal’c, slightly anemic. Daniel smirked at the news.

"Yeah, well, their kitchen wasn’t exactly big on nutritional value."

Jack blushed as soon as he spoke the words. Carter and Teal’c looked at him, not understanding. Daniel looked at his shoes and was also blushing.

They waited ten minutes for General Hammond in the briefing room. Nobody said a word. The silence was uncomfortable. Several times Carter started to say something and Jack glared at her until she backed off. Daniel was finally making eye contact, however brief. He had a pained expression on his face every time he looked at Carter. It mirrored Jack’s mood perfectly. Only Teal’c calmly waited for Hammond to commence their debriefing.

"Sir, we have to talk–"

"Not now, Carter."

Daniel shifted in his seat, leaning forward onto his elbows. "She’s right, Jack."

"I agree," Jack cut in before Daniel could continue. "But not now."

Teal’c inclined his head and lifted an eyebrow, asking with typical Jaffa understatement, what the hell was going on.

"You had it so much easier cooped up in that infirmary of theirs."

"I would not refer to my time spent in the infirmary on P3R-118 as easy, O’Neill."

"It’s all relative."

Anything would be better than waiting for Hammond. Fire and brimstone would be a walk in the park. Jack didn’t know what to do with Daniel. That wasn’t entirely true. Daniel, he could handle. It wouldn’t be fun, but he could talk to Daniel about what happened and they’d come to some sort of resolution. A resolution to do what? Jack didn’t know.

Carter, on the other hand, was more complicated.

"When?"

Jack looked at Daniel. "When what?"

"When will we talk about it?"

He was saved by Hammond’s entrance. The General informed them that SG-5 and SG-8 were escorting the refugees to P5C-982.

"Support teams will remain on the planet for three months, until a provisional government can be established."

Most of the workers from P3R-118 were petty criminals. They’d had their lives erased with the memory stamp. They’d lived for years, some of them, under the direct supervision of Brenna and Administrator Calder. How long would it be before they tired of their newfound freedom and became violent and anarchistic.

Jack said very little during the debriefing. The rest of his team spoke vehemently against the enslavement of the people; he didn’t share his doubts. He was in enough trouble already.

The debriefing was mercifully brief. Hammond dismissed them with two weeks down time. Two weeks to recover from his week and a half of hard labor. Two weeks to think about what he’d done. Two weeks of sheer hell was more like it.

Jack shut himself in his office for half an hour, typing his report and signing some requisitions. If he could avoid Carter until he got off base, then he was home free for at least a couple of days. On his way to the locker room, he expected to see her at every turn, lying in wait for him.

Daniel was sitting on the bench, staring at his open locker. He had already showered and changed and was just sitting. He didn’t look up when Jack walked in.

"You okay?"

Daniel shook his head. "Not really."

Jack sat down on the bench. Words of comfort did not come easily. He knew how to be there for his men, but Daniel was a different breed. Daniel said what was on his mind. He wasn’t afraid to express how he felt. Listening was the best thing Jack knew how to do, except he felt just as confused and hesitant as Daniel. He needed to make Daniel understand that he wasn’t alone. But how?

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don’t know."

Jack put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, which Daniel immediately shrugged off. Determined to make his point, Jack put his hand back and held on. Daniel looked him in the eye.

"I need to talk."

Daniel slowly nodded. "Okay."

"Tonight."

"Eight o’clock?"

"I’ll bring the pizza."

Daniel shut his locker and left, leaving Jack alone with his rapidly vanishing determination to resolve his feelings. Was it such a good idea to be alone with Daniel in his apartment? What if he still wanted to … to … after they talked? It was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

The sun was setting as Jack walked to his truck. Clouds on the western horizon were blazing orange and red and magenta. It was beautiful, romantic. He would shower and change at home. Shave, and maybe put on some cologne.

The last time he had been on a date was … a long time ago. Being off world every other week didn’t allow him to date much. Not that he was going on a date tonight. He did not have a date with Daniel. They were getting together to discuss something that had happened. Something like sex.

So, no, it was not a date. He was still going to put on some CK One.

*****

Daniel had changed clothes. He wore a navy blue sweater and khakis. And he had shaved. Jack didn’t feel quite so stupid. He handed Daniel the pizza box and took an offered glass of something.

Bourbon. It was such a bad idea to start drinking. Jack needed to be serious and responsible and sober. He took a sip and wound up finishing the glass.

Daniel held out the bottle. "Want another?"

"No." Jack put the glass under the bottle and Daniel poured.

They sat at the table and used plates because Daniel always sat at the table and used a plate, even when he ate alone. Jack would have happily stood in the kitchen. He wasn’t very hungry and only nibbled on the cheese.

When they first met, Daniel ate pizza with a knife and fork. Jack had thought this the funniest thing and eventually teased Daniel out of the practice. He smiled as he watched Daniel pick up the small slice with both hands.

Grease dripped from the cooling cheese onto the plate. It was disgusting, really. Coagulating mozzarella over heavy-handed sweet tomato sauce on doughy crust. Pizza Hut didn’t know what pizza was.

"You’re not hungry?"

"Yeah." Jack finished his slice and finished his bourbon. He was feeling warm and brave. "I don’t regret it."

Daniel put down his pizza and wiped his hands on a napkin. He hadn’t taken more than two sips of his drink. "Regret what, exactly?"

"What we did." Like it wasn’t obvious what he was talking about.

"Okay."

"I’m not saying that it’s okay, just that I don’t regret it."

"Thank you so much for sharing."

Things were not going the way Jack had planned. Not that he had a plan. But in whatever fantasy he allowed himself of this moment, Daniel did not get angry.

"I’m just saying." He took another slice of pizza and ate in earnest.

"Saying what?"

"I’m saying how I feel. Is that so bad?"

"And how do you feel, exactly?"

Why was Daniel making this so hard? All he was trying to do was tell his friend that they were still friends. He wanted Daniel to do the same thing for him. He wanted Daniel to sit down next to him, pat him on the back and say he had no regrets either. Tell him everything would be all right. But Jack was the commander so he had to do the reassuring.

It was getting harder.

"I’m glad, okay? I’m glad we slept together. I’ve wanted to do it for a long time. Hell, I want to do it again, but we can’t!"

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long have you wanted to sleep with me?"

Jack shrugged and inspected his shoes. "A long time."

"And you decided to keep this to yourself? You didn’t think this was something worth sharing?"

"No, I didn’t. It’s not like I could do anything about it."

"What about what I want?"

"What? It doesn’t matter what we want. For crying out loud, Daniel, we work together. I’m your superior. There may not be any regulations telling us not to sleep together, but what about common sense?"

Daniel folded and unfolded his napkin. Jack had known from the beginning that Daniel was interested. It had been obvious when they spent time alone together. But Daniel had always held back. At the time, Sha’re was alive and he wouldn’t break his marriage vows. But then Amonet had been killed. With Daniel suddenly free, Jack had furiously backpedaled, throwing himself into Carter’s Happy Homemaker fantasy.

"But we did sleep together."

"Yeah, but it’s not like we knew it was wrong."

"It’s not wrong."

It was wrong. It was wrong for Jack to sleep with a subordinate. It was wrong to have sex with a man. Had he known – had he remembered that it was wrong, he never would have slept with Daniel, no matter how strong his feelings. Hadn’t he spent the better part of a year running away from those feelings?

Jack didn’t feel like arguing over chilling pizza. He took his empty glass to the sink and sat down on the sofa in the living room. Daniel could follow or not. If Daniel followed, that meant they were okay. As long as he didn’t sit at the table ignoring Jack, they would be okay.

Daniel threw the uneaten pizza in the fridge and sat down.

"Jack."

He looked over and looked back at his shoes. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. He didn’t know what to do to make Daniel not angry with him. It felt like a fight with his ex-wife.

"You don’t have to be the Colonel with me."

He was a colonel, what else was he supposed to be?

"It’s okay to let go."

Let go? Daniel wanted him to let go? Did he have any idea what would happen if he lost control?

"No, it’s not okay." He spoke slowly and calmly, hoping if he acted the part, it might rub off on him. "I want something I can’t have and it doesn’t matter if you want it too because we can’t do it. We cannot do it again. And I hate myself for wanting you and I hate myself for being so damn afraid. I’m screwed. I can’t win. So it’s not okay!"

"Jack."

"What!" He was shouting.

Daniel kissed Jack, his body conveying his urgency and need. Jack was overwhelmed. He wanted Daniel so much it frightened him. He had to have him. He would do anything to have him.

"I can’t."

Daniel didn’t argue. He didn’t move a muscle. It was Jack’s choice. A decision he would live to regret, no matter what he chose. He grabbed Daniel’s sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving 'the Colonel' behind.