A/N: This story takes place early Season 3, about a month after "Point of View." Talk about a giant breadcrumb. Shouldn't be too hard to guess where this is headed now.

Ch 1

Sam Carter was working in her lab, as was her custom when she was on Earth. She was so wrapped up in the calculations she was programming into her computer that she jumped when her CO suddenly barked, "Carter!"

"Sir?!" she exclaimed, half giving the correct response, half scolding him for interrupting her work and startling her.

He was grinning. "Scare ya?" he asked, his tone indicating full well that he knew he had scared her.

"No, sir," she muttered, turning back to her computer.

"Yes I did," he said with an obvious sense of pride, coming into the dimly lit lab and leaning on his elbows on the table across from her.

"Was there something you needed, sir, or did you just get bored?" she asked.

"Actually, now that you mention it, Carter, I was wondering if you know what time it is." She looked at him suspiciously but glanced at her watch nonetheless.

"It's 2:15, sir," she replied.

"That's what my watch says too, Major," he said in the tone he usually reserved for small children, or for Daniel when he was being particularly stubborn about remaining on a boring planet full of old rocks.

"Now," he continued, and Carter finally realized where he was heading with all of this. "When it occurred to me that you're still hard at work in your blinky-light lab here, I said to myself, 'Now, this watch must be broken. Maybe you shouldn't have chucked it at Siler yesterday in the locker room when he...' never mind. 'The point is,' I said to myself, 'that I KNOW Major Carter would be sound asleep if it were really 2:15 in the morning, because Major Carter was specifically limited to the number of extra hours she could spend in her lab as of last month, and she has already used up her quota for this month.' Naturally, I assumed the fault lay with my watch rather than with you, and I sat down to write a nasty letter to the watch company about their obviously crappy watch designs."

Carter shifted on her feet, trying very hard not to sigh out loud. She got the point, okay, he didn't need to beat her over the head with it. Plus he was obviously enjoying this reprimand session entirely too much.

"Then," O'Neill continued. "I thought, 'Wait a minute, maybe you should just go check Carter's lab before you send off an angry letter to the watch manufacturers, just to be certain that your 2IC isn't blatantly disregarding a direct order from her CO...'"

Carter couldn't take it any more. He was going on at a rate worthy of Daniel when he figured out some connection between ancient civilizations. "Sir, I know I'm out of 'lab time,' as you called it, but I kind of thought you were just joking about that, sir..."

"Do I look like I'm joking, Major?"

"No, sir..." she paused, trying to figure out how best to deal with the situation, and continued with a grin, "I thought the schedule you drew up on that napkin was more of a... guideline really. And I really had no idea it had gotten so late, I sort of lost track of time I guess..."

"Now, now, Carter, lying to your CO is a serious offense," he warned.

"Lying, sir?"

"I have it on good authority that when the last lab guy left at eight you told him to leave everything on for you and, what was it again, oh yes I remember, you told him specifically not to tell Colonel O'Neill that you were still working."

"That little..."

"Oh, he didn't rat you out, don't worry. Not exactly, anyway. I made Daniel get it out of him. No no, your little fan club of techies are very loyal, but they are easily fooled by friendly archaeologists with donuts. Soooo, Carter. Can you give me a reason NOT to report all of this to Hammond? He's very concerned about you overworking yourself, you know."

"I don't think we need to bother Hammond with this simple misunderstanding, Colonel," Carter said hastily, watching with trepidation as he slowly made his way around the table to her side. "I mean, he's not exactly a young man is he, sir, if he's really concerned about me I would hate to add unnecessary stress to his life when this is obviously something that could be resolved between us."

"And how, exactly," Colonel O'Neill started, his voice suddenly low. When had he gotten that close to her? He was practically stood on her foot. "Do you propose we do that, Carter?" he finished with a smug smirk.

Trying very hard to look as though the way he was looking at her and the fact that he was standing half an inch away from her was having absolutely no effect on her whatsoever, Carter said, "I don't know, sir, maybe you could... pretend you didn't find out I was working late tonight and I could... promise never to do it again... well without permission... from you or Hammond... or if there's a real emergency, or if..."

Not only was his body definitely way too close to hers but at some point during her rambling, his head had inched closer to hers as well, until almost her entire field of vision was full of dark brown eyes that looked strangely happy. Suddenly it occurred to her that maybe working so late really wasn't a good idea. Her brain was not functioning properly. She felt like two people all of a sudden: she knew whatever the hell he was up to was a really, really bad idea, but for the life of her all she wanted to do was glance down the tiniest bit, because logically, his lips had to be somewhere in the vicinity of his eyes.

"Or..." he prompted.

She did it. She glanced down when he spoke and saw that the very corners of his lips were barely turned up, seemingly of their own volition.

Speak, some part of her brain suddenly shouted. "Or," she repeated, desperate of a way to finish the sentence. It didn't matter how she did it, she just really needed to...

He leaned in the tiniest bit and kissed her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered the idea that she definitely wouldn't be getting written up for defying orders after that blatant disregard for the regulations.

The rest of her mind just started screaming 'Woo-hoo this is nice!' and she had just decided that was a really great part of her brain that she should listen to a little more often when she crashed to the floor.

-------

She opened her eyes, dazed and confused, and looked around the lab. Her stool was on the ground next to her; she had clearly fallen off of it. Colonel O'Neill was nowhere to be found. She was completely alone.

"What the hell?" she asked as she pulled herself to her feet and brushed herself off. She realized she had dreamed the whole thing as she looked at her watch - 3:30. Taking the strange dream as a sign that she was exhausted, she shut down everything in her lab and headed off to her quarters to (hopefully) get some decent sleep.