DISCLAIMER : Stargate is the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. No infringement on copyrights and trademarks is intended. All original material is copyrighted to the author.

Below them the gate-room was a hive of inactivity. Sam stared forlornly through the glass at the stargate itself. She'd run it through all the diagnostics she could think of and couldn't find a thing wrong; she'd reached the end of her mental check-list and there was nothing left.

"Major?" General Hammond asked quietly.

"Sergeant?" Sam asked.

Sergeant Davis shook his head.

"That's it, Sir," Sam said, despondently; but there was one last chance, "Short of stripping it down and putting it back together," she tried.

"Which is one thing I'm not going to authorize, Major. This time, you've just got to accept it," General Hammond said.

Davis began keying in a destination. Sam's shoulders slumped as the sequence completed. This was the last thing she wanted, but she didn't have a choice.

"Ready, Sir," Davis announced.

"Thank you, Sergeant." General Hammond paused. "Major?"

"Yes, Sir," Sam said. Everything was, to her distress, far too quiet. Still, she managed not to look back as she left the control room, not even hesitating as she keyed the blast door open, or slowing down as she walked up the ramp.

"Major?" General Hammond's deep, Texan drawl was far too loud over the speakers for Sam's liking. She stopped; looked back. Hammond's smiling face was almost mocking her from behind the safety of the plate glass. "Enjoy your vacation, Major!" Sam shouldered her pack and walked through the gate.

For the first time since she couldn't remember she actually felt the cold of gate-travel. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the down-time, it was just that she'd usually always managed to avoid it, to find something to keep herself occupied. But this was a one-way trip. General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill, and to her dismay even Janet had gotten involved, had ordered her to get some rest. How they'd managed to talk the Nox into helping them she wondered if she'd ever know.

From an artificially lit room deep inside a mountain, Sam emerged into bright sunlight light-years away. The gate shut itself down completely before she could blink, just as the Nox had said it would.

Sam blinked. She had two lonely weeks ahead of her. No one to talk to, no computers to work with, no gadgets to amuse her. She still had a GDO, fitted with an emergency over-ride to re-activate the DHD, but she'd been told in no uncertain terms not to come home early.

"Consider it survival training," the Colonel had said. "You'll have all you need in your pack," he'd said. Sam waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. The warm air and cool breeze was annoyingly pleasant, and already she could feel herself relaxing far more readily than she wanted to. And worse, she was curious. The Nox had made assurances that she'd be safe, that there were no poisonous plants or dangerous animals, that there would be no need for weapons and she shouldn't be at all uncomfortable. Far from it, in fact.

"Survival training," Sam muttered under her breath. The sun was a pale yellow in a pale blue sky, silvery-white wisps of cloud floating high overhead. Not a hundred yards from the gate was a small enticing lake enclosed on two sides by trees and shrubs bearing all manner of flowers and fruit. No more than three hundred yards further on, the fourth side was a low waterfall, a fine white mist feeding the lake.

Without even thinking, Sam found herself walking towards the water's edge. The grass she walked across was bright and green, the flowers all around her were delicately scented and colorful, and the water, she knew, would just have to be cool and clear.

It had only been a matter of minutes, but it seemed like hours since the short talk back in the briefing room. Two minutes to go over a survey of where they would be going. Two minutes to be shown a small archipelago in the middle of a large sea. No more than a few seconds of explanation, to have pointed out a small speck, an island a mile in diameter. Then a closer look. A few graphics showing the climate, atmosphere, expected weather conditions, flora and fauna. A smile at the Colonel's mock disappointment of no fishing. Finally quiet, before the slow, awful realization that it wasn't a team mission, that she alone was about to be stranded.

The Colonel had rushed away, Janet had refused to make eye contact, and General Hammond had gently guided her back to the control room. Now, looking out over the lake, Sam didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She knew that the Colonel cared for her more than he should, that Janet was thinking of her health and well-being, and that they worried about how hard she pushed herself, but she never expected to be rail-roaded off the planet.

Couldn't they trust her?

Sam laughed. Someone -- probably everyone -- had put in a lot of hard work to make sure that this time she had a proper vacation away from all and any distractions.

Yet the island was almost too simple, too beautiful, too perfect. Years of tough training followed by even more years of harsh experience had taught her to take nothing for granted. She knew that she ought to scout out the island, to verify and prove to her satisfaction that the reports were correct. She knew that afterward she ought to set up a shelter, to make sure that she would be safe and comfortable, to prepare just in case, but...

Sam looked back towards the gate, back to where her pack had slipped off her shoulders, back to where of a sudden the weight of months of hard work had finally hit her... Back to where she'd stopped caring.

She knew where she was with all manner of things; with calculators and computers, with gadgets and gizmos, with mechanics and motor cycles, with zat guns and space ships. She knew where she was with her family and friends. She even knew where she was with her enemies.

There was only one person she didn't know, one person she never gave a moment's thought, one person she'd stopped trying to relate to. Sam sat by the water's edge and looked at her reflection. Maybe it was all an illusion, but her eyes were darker, harder, not as clear as they should be; there were lines on her forehead, about her eyes; her lips were thinner, more drawn; and when she smiled...

Sam wondered if two weeks would be enough.