A/N: I can't believe I never posted this here! This ficlet is a small bonus scene that takes place a few hours after 'Intermezzo'. Let's just say that even after all this time, I still have a hard time wrenching my brain away from this little universe. Enjoy!

Just Another Day At the SGC

"So it is true?"

Sam spins around at the unexpected voice and promptly trips over one of the many cardboard boxes currently gracing the floor of her lab. She's only saved from a complete face plant thanks to Julia's quick action, her arm reaching out to grab Sam.

"Whoa there," Julia says, patting her on the back. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Sam waves away the apology, trying to salvage whatever dignity she can, the effect slightly marred by the petulant kick she aims at the offending box in retaliation. "This place has turned into a death trap. And, of course, now I have no time to unpack."

Julia shoves a few boxes to the side to make a clear path from the door. "So it's true then? SG-1 was really implanted with their very own imaginary friend?"

"Apparently he goes by the name Urgo," Sam says with a sigh, turning back to her computer. Dr. Fraiser already ruled out surgical options, leaving Sam with the unenviable task of inventing some other solution. Otherwise SG-1 will be left walking around talking to themselves and eating far too much pie. The amusement factor there can only last so long.

Julia leans against the table with a wry grin on her face. "Well, one thing you can say for this place: it's certainly never boring."

Truer words were never spoken. "I don't suppose you'd help me unpack?" Sam asks.

Julia shakes her head. "Sorry. I've got brilliant breakthroughs to attend to."

Sam rolls her eyes. Only Julia could say something like that with a straight face. "Of course you do."

"Good luck with everything," she tosses over her shoulder as she disappears out the door.

Sam is left in peace for almost an hour, but it's enough to do the trick. She is tantalizingly close to a solution. Right on cue though, she's interrupted by the current source of her ire: Jack O'Neill. He's lounging in the doorframe, watching her intently.

Sam purposely doesn't look at him, typing a little harder at the keys than is probably necessary. "You do remember me telling you I didn't have time to save your ass this week, right? I don't even have my office unpacked and you come home with a chip in your brain. Some tropical planet that turned out to be."

Jack doesn't respond, but Sam is too engrossed in the screen in front of her to care.

"Luckily for you," she continues, tapping in a few last lines, "I think I'm onto a way to free you of your little friend."

A touch on her arm makes her jump a bit, not having been aware that Jack has moved across the room. She looks over her shoulder at him, her breath catching at the rather intense gaze he's leveling on her.

"Jack?" she asks, disconcerted to have him quite so close to her. They are usually pretty good about keeping their distance at work.

His hands drop to her waist, pulling her out of her chair and urging her to turn around to face him. Moving closer, he backs her against the table, his arms effectively pinning her in place.

"Jack, what are you-," she starts to say, only to be cut off by the press of his lips against hers.

She's certainly startled, but quickly sidetracked from that very valid point by the rather miraculous things Jack's mouth is doing to hers. She knew there had to be a reason she put up with SG-1's horrific track record. Now she remembers why.

This really isn't where she thought the day would go when she'd woken up this morning.

She has no idea how much time passes before there is the sound of someone knocking on the door followed by a loud 'Ahem'. Sam pulls back from Jack, rather dazedly looking over her shoulder to see Evan standing in the doorway, his eyes studiously glancing everywhere but at her.

"Um," he says, clearing his throat again. "Sorry to interrupt, but we thought it best to keep an eye on each other since Urgo's proven to be quite…influential on our actions."

Sam blinks at Evan, trying to make out the meaning behind his words even as Jack starts kissing her neck, apparently not caring that they have an audience. She tries to circumspectly bat him away.

"Excuse me?" she manages to say, one hand wedged against Jack's chest, levering him away from her.

Evan now looks torn between amusement and wanting the floor to open up and swallow him whole. "He can…um…enhance our sensory perception."

"Enhance?" Sam echoes stupidly. Sensory perception. Right. Jack's fingers choose that moment to discover the space between her skirt and blouse and she bites back a sigh of appreciation. "I see," she says, wondering if this counts as one of the most surreal conversations she's ever had.

"Most likely Urgo is just trying to distract your from your work, in case you actually figure out a way to get rid of him," Evan says.

There's logic in his words, she's sure of it, but Jack's hand is now flat against her back, sliding along her spine and she's having a hard time coming up with anything coherent enough to respond.

Evan, meanwhile, has turned dramatically to the empty space next to him, his brow creased with annoyance. "No, I wouldn't rather be eating yet more food in the commissary. And you had better quit with this," he says, gesturing at Sam.

Jack's hands tighten on her and she lets out an involuntary squeak.

"Colonel," Evan barks, apparently deciding that reasoning with Urgo or Jack at the moment is an exercise in futility.

Jack jerks as if waking from a daydream. Then he notices his close proximity to Sam and the rather obvious evidence that she has been thoroughly kissed. He takes a giant step back.

"Goddammit, Urgo!" Jack bellows.

Both men pause, as if listening.

Sam takes advantage of their temporary distraction to gather whatever dignity she might have left. The security camera serenely blinking in the back corner catches her eye. Dammit. Harris is going to have a field day with this one. She wonders exactly what she will have to do to get her hands on that footage before it makes its rounds through the base.

"That is so not true!" Jack yells, dragging back Sam's attention to the two men currently arguing with thin air.

Whatever Urgo has said to piss Jack off only makes Evan snicker.

"What?" Sam demands, tugging self-consciously at her lab coat.

When Jack remains stubbornly silent, Evan gleefully fills her in. "Urgo says this was the Colonel's idea in the first place. Something about supply closets?"

Sam covers her face with her hands, trying to hide the blush she knows must be spreading across her skin. Could this get any more embarrassing? She peeks up at Evan to see that he's enjoying this far too much.

"Major," Jack snaps, effectively wiping the grin from Evan's face.

"Sir," he says with a somewhat respectful nod before darting out into the hallway, no doubt trying to reach minimum safe distance.

Sam forces herself to sit back down in front of the computer, now easily remembering why getting rid of Urgo is such a good idea.

Jack looks back at her, running a hand through his hair. "I'm, uh, sorry about…" He makes a vague gesture encompassing her whole body.

He looks so sheepish that she can't help but be slightly amused. "Sure you are," she quips.

His eyes narrow, but before he gets around to replying, he turns abruptly to the empty space next to him, his mouth popping open in shock. "Absolutely not, Urgo!"

"What?" Sam asks yet again, getting pretty annoyed with being left out of these conversations. Not that she would prefer a chip in her own head.

"You really don't want to know," Jack assures her. "Trust me."

Sam merely arches an eyebrow at him, her imagination filling in the blanks quite nicely all on its own.

Jack takes a few steps towards her, his head tilted slightly to the side as if considering her before reaching out to touch her hair. He's barely made contact when he snatches his hand back as if burned.

"Jack?" she asks, not sure the slightly glazed look on his face bodes well.

His eyes widen. "I need to go." Without another word, he abruptly turns and practically runs out the door, closing it solidly after him.

Sam blows out a breath, still torn between being mortified and amused. Or maybe just wanting him to come back and finish what he started. It's a dilemma she faces far too often for comfort in her life. Well, at least since she met Jack. With a soft huff of amusement, she finally focuses on the screen in front of her.

She's barely forced herself back to the task at hand when the door cracks open again, only Jack's head reappearing.

"Maybe you should lock this door until you've got this thing figured out, okay?" he says, looking slightly panicked. "And, please, in the name of everything shiny, do it fast."

With that, he's gone.

Sam carefully steps over her boxes, throwing the bolt on the door into place. She pauses a moment, leaning back against it. Lifting a hand to her lips, she feels a slow smile spread across her face.

Just another day at the SGC.