A/N: We were watching The Fifth Race again tonight and I realized that I missed many a shippy possibility in the piece I just posted. Therefore, I believe this story deserves a second Campfire. As always, feedback is answered, saved, and pulled out to savor on rainy days.

Set on a planet of my own choosing, following The Fifth Race. This is the first time I've ever had to say this, but you probably want to read the Campfire just prior to this one, To Protect and to Serve. You don't have to, but this one will make a bit more sense if you do. Enjoy.

Fair Trade

Sam winced as she dutifully applied the cool Silvadene cream to her skin, gently spreading it over the backs of her hands. She looked up as Daniel walked by, giving the archaeologist a brief smile that he absently returned as he seated himself by the blazing campfire that Teal'c had built earlier. For her part, Sam had chosen to sit further back from the fire than was her usual wont. She'd done the same last night, at least in the early part of the evening. The fire was just too hot on her still sensitive skin.

Janet Fraiser had prescribed the Silvadene to help heal her severe sunburn, and while Sam had been diligent in putting the cream on in the morning, she found that by midday she'd effectively sweated–or rubbed–off the healing cream. Thankfully, the Colonel had decided that they'd stay in the same camp tonight that they'd used last night, which meant –for Sam at least–less gear to haul; therefore, less irritation of her burns and less chance for the cream to rub off. As a result, she was feeling much better than she had yesterday at this time. Squeezing the tube again, she applied another coat to her hands and forearms.

"Teal'c."

The Colonel's voice pulled Sam out of her thoughts and she glanced up to where he was rummaging through his bag.

"Yes, O'Neill"

"I will be taking my watch tonight. Got it?"

"Indeed, O'Neill."

Sam smothered a grin as the Colonel returned the Jaffa's solemn nod. As she'd expected, her CO had been...irritated...this morning when he'd awakened and discovered that Teal'c had not only covered his watch, but Carter's too. Sam had worried this morning that O'Neill would think she'd asked Teal'c to stand the triple. However, Daniel had whispered to her during lunch that he'd overheard Teal'c explaining to the Colonel that he'd simply felt no need for rest and saw no reason to needlessly disturb the rest of his teammates. Daniel had flashed Sam a grin, chuckling as he tried to describe the expression on the Colonel's face. Who could argue with Teal'c logic? Looking over to Daniel, she caught the humor in his blue eyes and flashed him a quick grin in return.

"Carter?"

Startled, Sam jumped guiltily toward her CO. "Sir?"

"You planning on joining us?"

O'Neill was gesturing to her empty sleeping bag, laid out once again adjacent to his own, their gear bags resting against each other at the head of their bedroll's. He was seated on his own, with two MRE packets propped against his folded legs. Across the roaring fire Daniel was preparing his and Teal'c's meals, his attention completely on his task, his glasses slipping down his nose. Sam could still feel the heat of the fire uncomfortably warm on her tender skin. She shook her head and held out her hands to emphasize her point.

"Um, not right now, Colonel. The fire's a bit too hot for me."

"Gotcha. Okay, one spaghetti dinner, coming up. Stay put, I'll bring it over there."

"Thank you, Sir."

Sam squeezed more cream from the tube and began to gingerly rub it on her face as she watched the last of the sun's rays fade into the quickly darkening indigo sky. Spreading the cooling cream across her cheeks, she rocked her head back and forth, trying to ease the kink in her neck. She'd had it when she'd awakened this morning, it was almost as though she'd slept with her head in a funny position. Sam glanced again at her sleeping bag, noting how closely the Colonel had placed their gearbags-turned-pillows. Just then O'Neill turned, the light of the campfire highlighting the growing silver in her hair, and Sam's breath caught. She had a sudden, visceral flash of that silver hair beneath her fingers, the short, silken strands brushing against her palm—a stronger memory than she could attribute to the few minutes she'd spent late last night easing his headache. Sam dropped her hands to her lap, cream forgotten, and her gaze far away as she chased the elusive memory.

"Carter." O'Neill stepped over to his Second, two meals balanced carefully in one hand, the other holding two bottles of freshly purified water. Getting no response from her, he awkwardly folded himself down beside her, bumping her shoulder with his own in the process. "Earth...er...not-Earth to Caaaaarter," he called softly in a sing-song voice. Beside him Sam jumped, then reared back slightly in surprise at his proximity.

"Colonel! Sorry, Sir. I was...ah..."

"Couple of zillion light-years away?"

Sam nodded sheepishly. "Something like that." She relieved her CO of one of the two dinners and a water, giving him a smile. "Thanks, Sir."

"My pleasure." O'Neill continued to stare at Carter, long enough that she finally dropped her gaze from his, glancing around uncomfortably.

"What?"

O'Neill looked away, glancing first to where Daniel sat in the now almost complete darkness, writing furiously in the journal he held tilted toward the firelight, then out into the shadows that hid Teal'c. He turned back to Carter, again studying her intently.

Sam was beginning to get nervous, her meal forgotten. Maybe her CO was more upset about her...helping out...with his headache last night than he'd let on. She met his disconcertingly direct gaze again, figuring it was better to just get it out in the open. "Sir, is...ah..." Her voice trailed off and she felt her eyes widen as O'Neill slowly lifted a hand to her face.

"Sir...?"

"You've got...just...there..."

Sam's eyes slipped closed as she felt the Colonel's fingers slowly slide across her cheek, his touch as light as a feather across her skin. She felt her breath catch again and she slowly opened her eyes, capturing his intense brown gaze for a flash of a second before his eyes flicked to follow the path of his fingers on her face. Sam swallowed as O'Neill's long fingers slid into the hair at her temple, steadying his hand as his thumb eased its way across her cheek. Then, just as slowly as he'd reached out, the Colonel eased his hand back and Sam saw him rubbing the tips of his fingers against his thumb. She numbly followed his hand as it moved away, her eyes finally flicking up to his.

"Cream."

"Huh...ah...what, Sir?"

O'Neill held up his hand, turning it so that Sam could see the remnants of the Silvadene on his fingers.

"Oh."

O'Neill gave her a small smile before turning again to his meal. Sam watched him for a moment, trying to calm the racing of her heart and going over the last few moments in her mind. The fiercely intense look on his face just now reminded her of when she'd stepped through the gate earlier in the week clutching in her hands the plans O'Neill had drawn for the repair of the DHD. She'd looked past the smiling Hammond to see the Colonel standing there, his gaze on hers, looking as if he were trying desperately to remember something. Or trying not to forget.

"Don't like spaghetti?" O'Neill caught her eye and gestured toward her cooling dinner. "These things don't reheat well, you know."

"Yes, Sir." Sam dug into her meal, determinedly killing the butterflies still wreaking havoc to her stomach. Get a grip, Carter. The man's just keeping you from looking like an idiot with splotches of cream on your face. They ate silently, the quiet of the camp broken only when Teal'c stopped by to collect his dinner from Daniel and then return to his vigilant watch of their perimeter. She watched as O'Neill scraped the last of his food from his bag, looking as if he was still hungry. She tilted her own bag toward him, offering the last few bites remaining of her meal.

O'Neill shook his head. "No, thanks. You finish, or you don't get dessert." O'Neill nodded in response to Daniel's softly called goodnight, despite the fact that he and Carter were far enough from the fire that Daniel would miss the gesture. Beyond the edge of the camp came the sound of a twig snapping as Teal'c settled in for his turn at watch.

"Dessert?" Sam looked over at him as she took a sip of her water. It was cooler than she expected and she shivered slightly.

O'Neill's face was suddenly concerned. "Cold, Carter?"

"Um...no, I don't think so, Sir. Well, yes and no. My face and hands are warm but..." Night had settled firmly around the camp, and with it came the welcome cooler air on her skin.

O'Neill stood gracefully, then reached down and pulled Sam to her feet. "C'mon, Carter. Time for dessert." He waved her toward the now somewhat diminished fire and waited for her to unlace her boots and slide into her sleeping bag. Getting into his own, O'Neill fished inside of his camp bag. He pulled out two thick foil packages and handed one to Sam.

"I don't know if I can handle a S'more, Sir. I'm..."

"A bit leery of anything toasted right now?" O'Neill quirked a small smile at her. "I figured. Go ahead, open it."

Sam bit her lip as she examined the sealed package. True enough, the item was much thicker than the treat he usually packed for their dessert. While on Earth she loved the combination of toasted marshmallow and milk chocolate sandwiched between graham crackers, and normally when off-world had grown to enjoy the pale imitation available in the form of Pop Tarts. Right now however, she was—as the Colonel mentioned—a bit gun-shy. Her team's near brush with death in the one hundred-forty plus degree heat just a few days ago had put her off anything toasted for a while. Nevertheless it was clear that he was anticipating her reaction, so Sam gamely began to open her treat. Pulling back the foil, Sam blinked in surprise. The solid brick of brown with darker brown chunks looked like... Sam looked up. "Ice cream?"

O'Neill looked up from his own treat and offered her a small smile. "Astronaut ice cream!" He broke off a piece of his own dessert, a brick of brown, white and pink, and popped it into his mouth, crunching it into smaller pieces.

Sam leaned over to check out what he had. "Neapolitan, Sir?"

"Yup." He crunched on another piece and pulled his out of her range. "Eat your own, Carter, this is mine."

Sam studied her own. "And mine is..."

"Chocolate, chocolate-chip."

Nodding happily, Sam broke off a piece of her dessert and placed it on her tongue. Her eyes widened in surprise as it melted on her tongue. "Hmm, this is pretty good."

"Pretty good?" O'Neill shook his head. "Carter. I just brought you ice cream. Chocolate ice cream, in fact. All the way across the galaxy. And all you can say is 'pretty good'?"

Sam raised her eyebrows in surprise at his indignation, then immediately winced. "Ow. Darned sunburn."

O'Neill leaned close, squinting in the darkness. "Damn, Carter, it still looks bad. Did you put cream up there, too?"

"No, Sir. I was sort of in the middle when you brought dinner."

"Ah. Well, that explains the..." He gestured toward the cheek he'd just cleaned of extra cream. Setting his dessert aside, he held out his hand, palm up. "Hand it over."

"Sir?" Sam leaned backward, shielding her dessert from him.

"The tube, Captain. It's dark, there are no mirrors, and you need some goo on your noggin." O'Neill took the tube from her and squirted a liberal amount on his hand. He reached up, one hand brushing aside her bangs, then hesitated, noting her startled look. "This...ah...okay, Carter?"

Sam simply nodded, her dessert forgotten. The butterflies she'd ruthlessly killed earlier had apparently had time to hatch multitudes more before their deaths and were now flying madly around in her stomach in time to the beating of her heart. The Colonel's hand slid further into her hair, holding it back from her forehead. He leaned in, close enough for Sam to once again marvel at his beautiful brown eyes. And, for God's sake! Those eyelashes... She remembered hearing one of Janet's nurses complain that it was such a waste to have those eyelashes on a man. Nope, not a waste at all. They're just fine where they–

"Close your eyes." O'Neill's voice was hushed, barely above a whisper, and his words caused her thoughts to scatter.

"Sir?" Sam's own response was just as quiet.

"Goo."

Despite his command, Sam's eyes fluttered open to meet his. "Guh," she coughed and tried again. "Goo? Sir?"

His eyes twinkling, O'Neill held his hand up between them, the Silvadene shining on his fingertips. "Goo, Carter. I don't want it getting in your eyes, and it needs to be on your head. Can't have your brain overheating."

"Oh. Okay. Sure. Goo."

Nice, Sam. Advance degrees in mathematics and astrophysics and you can't form a coherent sentence. Bemused, Sam let her eyes slip closed again, her face tilted trustingly up toward his. She knew he was just being kind and that nothing could–or would–come of it, but for one moment she let go, let herself imagine what it would be like for this man to touch her. Really touch her. Touch her in love and not out of duty. It was foolish and indulgent and...well...girly, but just this once...Sam pushed the dedicated career soldier aside and let herself be the girl.

O'Neill kept up his ministrations, generously applying cream to the warm, reddened skin beneath his fingertips. He glanced down at his hands and realized he'd applied all of the medicine he'd squeezed out of the tube...it was probably time to stop.

Sam's skin tingled, whether from the freshly applied medicine or O'Neill's touch, she wasn't sure. Either way, she noticed immediately when he withdrew; she missed the warmth of him and shivered slightly in response.

"You are cold, Carter." The Colonel gestured toward her sleeping bag. "Hop in, it's time for all good geniuses to be in bed."

Nodding, Sam carefully eased herself into her bag, careful to not wipe off her freshly applied medication. "Good night, Colonel, and...thanks."

"Hmm? For?"

Sam tilted her head, barely able to see his movements in the light of the glowing embers. She felt her makeshift pillow move as he adjusted his own, settling down with a grunt. Stifling a yawn, she answered, "For applying my...goo, as you call it."

"My pleasure. Seems only fair."

"Sir?" Sam asked sleepily, the long day catching up with her.

"You know. Last night you chased away my headache; tonight, I took care of yours."

"Mmhmm. It was my pleasure." Her voice trailed off sleepily as, snuggling deeper into her bag, Sam finally gave in to her body's need for rest.

On the other side of Sam's pillow, O'Neill made one last adjustment of his own, being careful not to disturb his sleeping Second. As he turned onto his side he caught a whiff of the faintly medicinal scent of the Silvadene still clinging to his fingers. "No Sam, the pleasure was mine."