This is most likely a one shot based on a question asked in today's episode of Hathor Hosts. Someone asked how Jack, Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c would handle isolation. It scrolled by too quickly to get answered, but it gave me my first bit of creative oomph since this mess started. I'm hoping it resets my mojo, so i can finish my WIP. Hope you like it or it at least gives you a bit of a release from some of your own frustrations over this virus. (Sam/Jack established)

Trigger warning for mentions of the virus, but it was kind of the point. Angsty, like we all are at the moment. I hope I didn't project too much of my own fears, frustrations, and sorrow over the losses into this one, but I make no promises. This virus is evil. Too many are dying, and it makes no sense.

I don't own Stargate or any of it's characters.

Sam glanced at the clock on her computer screen. It was nearly eight. So much for getting home on time for dinner. She forgot to call again, but he probably didn't expect her to remember. She ran her fingers through her hair and was rubbing her eyes before she remembered. No touching the face. That's a no-no now. Damn, why did she even bother? It's not like any of the precautions they told the public to take mattered anyway. People were still getting sick-still dying.

Who was it that came up with the no face touching rule anyway? Daniel or the president? Maybe it was one of the president's advisers. Oh well, if others had the self-control to keep their hands away from their face, they would be at least a little safer. That could save some from getting sick. Anything that flattened the curve bought her more time to find a solution.

The virus, COVID-19, was real, and it was an enormous threat to the planet whether the naysayers believed it or not. It just didn't have an earthly origin. The world couldn't know this virus was a weapon sent from an alien hell-bent on destroying the human race, or at least a large enough portion of it to make it ripe for take over.

The goa'uld weren't as decimated as they'd once believed. In the past several years, one was rebuilding her empire. They were so sure she was dead, but they should have known better. Hathor was a much more worthy adversary than they thought. While in exile, she adjusted her tactics.

Using her ability to charm men into doing her bidding, the self-proclaimed goddess found a team of scientists on an advanced world. The virus was developed there before being unleashed on China and eventually the world, and Stargate Command missed the signs. She missed the signs.

This was on her. As the newly instated head of Homeworld Security, she should have seen it. Because she didn't, the World Health Organization now knew about the program. They were working around the clock for a cure and, hopefully, a vaccine. They'd find one. They were close, but people were still suffering.

Even Stargate Command had their walls breached. When she gave Cameron command and moved to D.C., she didn't expect this virus. The phone call saying he tested positive nearly brought her to her knees. He was lucky enough to have a light case. Walter was not so lucky. He was still fighting for his life. Thank God for Carolyn. She was doing everything she could to help him, but it was hard on her.

Sam reluctantly shut down her computer and grabbed the bottle of Purell on her desk. She poured the icky substance into her palm, resealed the bottle, and started to rub her chapped hands. Palm to palm. Top of the left. Top of the right. Wrists were next. Finally, she interlaced her fingers and rubbed thoroughly, moving her simple wedding band forward a bit to get the entire ring finger.

When her hands were dry, she picked up her N-95 and secured it in place. She wished she were securing a zat in her holster instead, but this enemy was too small for a weapon. If they could find Hathor, she'd pull her weapon and finish the job properly, but they weren't any closer to locating the red-headed troublemaker than they'd been weeks earlier when they received her encrypted message. SURRENDER TO YOUR QUEEN OR BE DESTROYED. Not going to happen, not on her watch.

The guards, in their masks and gloves, led the way to where her driver waited. Sam fought the urge to chastise the young recruit who was touching everything with the same pair of blue medical-grade gloves that she doubted he was changing near often enough. He was scared. Fear made people do foolish things. She was just grateful her driver wasn't talkative. She needed to decompress.

The lights were still on in the front room when she entered, but Sam didn't speak until her shoes were removed and sprayed with bleach. This new routine was annoying, but she couldn't risk her loved ones. Being essential sucked sometimes.

Sam's eyes landed on her people as she walked straight past the living room entry way in route to the shower. Jack was fiddling with the phone. She could hear Daniel's voice. "No, Jack, you're holding the phone too close to your face. All I'm getting is a view of your nostrils."

"Is this better?" Jack asked.

"You flipped the camera. Now, I'm looking at the fireplace."

Sam heard a giggle. "Let me help, Dad." It was Grace. At ten, she was already more tech-savvy than her father. She'd sort out the video call. Sam couldn't risk it. Until the world outside was scrubbed from her skin in an unbearably hot shower, she wouldn't enter the room.

One unbearably hot shower later, Sam joined her family. She didn't sit with her husband and daughter on the couch like she used to before Hathor unleashed the virus. She took a seat more than six feet away. She wouldn't come home at all if Jack didn't insist. They'd discussed it in the beginning when she wanted to just stay on base.

"We could still get sick. The guy delivering our groceries could be shedding chunks of virus or the dog could get loose and some runny nose kid could bring him home. I need to see your face, know you're resting," he said. "You won't take care of yourself if I'm not around, and the world needs you healthy."

She gave in. She came home every night. They talked from across the room then she retired to the guest room each night to protect him. Their age difference never bothered her before, but it did now. Not because it affected her love for him, no, nothing could change that. His age added to the risk factor, and she couldn't imagine what life would be like without him. With this isolation, she had a small measure of insurance. Protecting the ones she loved was worth it. If she still had them when this was over, she could survive.

Daniel and Teal'c were still on the video call. The creators of Zoom had Sam's undying devotion. These calls made them feel connected to the outside. They were their lifeline to better times.

Teal'c was at Stargate Command. Sam could see the gate behind him. Since Teal'c was still wearing his gear, she surmised he hadn't been back from PX-543 long. His team were boots on the ground looking for Hathor. Daniel was playing diplomat at WHO. He was the right choice, and she stood by her decision to send him, even if he complained in these nightly phone calls about being removed from the front lines.

Grace was present, so the conversation moved from the virus to her school work. "Dad says my teacher doesn't know his as-"

"Grace!" Sam warned.

"What? Dad did say it."

Sam looked at Jack. He merely shrugged. "He's wrong about so many things. If we were just homeschooling, she'd be better off. This public school at home thing is ridiculous. Worksheet after worksheet after worksheet. I'm her father, not some substitute teacher who needs busy work."

"We want her to respect authority, and he's her teacher, Jack."

Jack rolled his eyes. "It's not like they're going back this year. She can respect next year's teacher."

"I agree with O'Neill," Teal'c said, nodding his head ever so slightly.

Daniel shook his head vehemently. "No, Sam's right. The schools need to keep educating their students. Jack, try to play ball with Mr. Sanders. He's trying to do his job."

"And, failing. Those kids on Zoom aren't paying any attention anyway," Jack said, "and it's just as well. He's wrong as much as he's right."

"Jack-" Daniel began, but Sam could see this wasn't getting them anywhere.

"I think we better sign off for the night. It's almost Grace's bedtime. Tell your uncles goodnight, Grace," Sam said.

"Goodnight Uncle Daniel. Goodnight Uncle Teal'c," the girl said before hugging her father and blowing a kiss across the room at her mother. "I miss hugging you, Mom."

Sam did her best to smile. "I miss it, too. Goodnight, sweetheart. Daddy will be up in a minute to tuck you in."

When they were alone, Jack let out a loud sigh. "I miss hugging you, too. I miss a lot of things." Sam didn't bother with a brave face. She just looked at him, unable to say a word. "You'll figure out this virus and you'll make Hathor pay for everyone she's cost us."

"I wish I had your confidence."

"You always figure things out, Sam. That's one of the many things I love about you. You've got this. Don't be so hard on yourself."

Sam started to get up to move to her room but stopped when she realized Jack was standing up. She waited until he'd made his way to the stairs before rising. Distance protected them, even if it killed her. They waited so long to be together, even longer to dare to be seen together publicly, yet here they were-never less than six feet apart. Hathor was going to pay. She would make sure of it, and when this virus was no longer a threat, she was going to hug her husband tighter than she'd ever hugged him. She might not ever let go.