A/N: I really am determined to have one story per episode if at all possible. Thanks to all who have been reviewing, that means so very much to me. This story didn't go where I intended, I think my muse has a mind of its own. A special note to JF (and her picky friend): I have, indeed, been lazy in my POV's and head-hopping. That should stop with this story and I thank you for the insightful and helpful critique.

Set two days after Thor's Chariot.

Boundaries

Sam Carter shifted again, trying to find a comfortable spot along the wall of the cave. Before her the small fire blazed cheerily, painting the cave walls with a muted yellow light. Olaf had pointed out the secluded corner earlier, telling her that she and Colonel O'Neill were welcome to build their fire there. Carter had done so while her CO accompanied Gairwyn and the other village leaders to survey the area. Sam added another small branch to the fire, feeding it slowly, building it to a level that would keep them warm this evening. The rugged walls of the hollowed-out room created deep shadows untouched by the fire. It was within one of those shadows that Carter had tucked herself, near enough to the fire to feel it's warmth, but far enough back that she could hide and just...watch.

It always amazed her how quickly the people they encountered on various worlds could just return to their everyday lives after a crises. Just two days ago she, along with her team and hundreds of residents of Cimmeria, had watched in amazement as Thor's ship had descended from a billowing, churning mass of clouds and simply...eliminated Heru'ur's ship and forces. Heru'ur had escaped, but his Jaffa had not. Now the only evidence of the "Etin" presence on Cimmeria was the scarred landscape of the former encampment. For their part, the Cimmerians seem to have adjusted to the living presence of their Norse God with an equanimity that baffled Sam.

Carter watched as a little girl, not more than eight years old, scrambled through the cave entrance to her mother's side, chattering brightly about her day. Behind the girl came Olaf, laughing at the child's enthusiasm and sweeping both woman and child into his embrace. Carter ducked further back into the shadows as Gairwyn and Colonel O'Neill entered, enjoying the opportunity to study her CO, unobserved. She caught her breath, surprised as always by the surge that shot through her at the sight of him. He stood framed in the doorway, the amber light of the evening highlighting his hair and throwing him into sharp relief against the outside light. The firelight from within the cave hadn't reached his features, but Carter would know his profile anywhere.

Sam sternly told her insides to settle down as she watched her CO casually glance around the cave, presumably looking for her. With a small sigh Sam leaned forward. She really wasn't feeling very sociable, but didn't want O'Neill worried about her whereabouts. O'Neill caught her eye and nodded as he stepped fully into the cave. Carter watched as his lips quirked in the familiar half-smile she'd grown so...no, Sam, let that go.

"Everything okay, Carter?" O'Neill unclipped his vest and let it drop beside him. He looked around for something to sit on and, finding nothing suitable, folded himself down onto the cave floor next to his Second with a soft grunt.

"Yes, Sir."

"Mind staying here an extra night?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Sam was more surprised that O'Neill was asking her if she minded staying, rather than the extension of the trip itself. As CO, it was really entirely up to him. She shrugged and answered, "Uh, no, Sir. I don't mind."They were back on Cimmeria to allow Carter the opportunity to further explore Kendra's dwelling. Daniel and Teal'c had stayed behind, since the trip was simply a revisit to a 'safe' planet and they'd both been asked to work with SG3 for a weeklong project. O'Neill had hoped they'd find more Goa'uld artifacts, while Carter had secretly hoped they wouldn't. She didn't like the devices they'd already recovered and really didn't like that she could apparently make at least one of them work. Unfortunately for Earth's defenses, Carter's wish had come true. She waited to see if he'd explain further, but finally asked, "Mind if I ask why, Sir?"

"No, I don't mind." O'Neill caught Carter's gave and gave her a grin, his eyes twinkling. Finally he answered her. "Gairwyn says that the Asgard teacher might return tomorrow morning and I thought we might stick around to meet him. Her. Um...it."

"It, Sir?"

"Yeah, Gairwyn wasn't sure if Heimdahl was a 'he' or a 'she.'"

"Ah." Carter paused. "And, you're asking me...why?"

"Seemed like the polite thing to do, Captain. Wasn't sure if you had plans."

"No, Sir. No plans. No problem." Sam shied away from the thought that crept in. She'd much rather be sitting with her CO next to a campfire on a planet thousands of light-years away from Earth than sitting at home alone, talking to her plants.

The two sat in silence for a while, watching as the families around them prepared their meals and settled in for the evening. As much as Carter enjoyed trying new things, she was grateful that the Colonel had turned down offers by the others to share in their evening meal. The meat she'd seen hanging in the cave earlier today looked like the exact same animals she'd seen hanging in the cave two days earlier. Somehow the idea of 'air cured' meat was unappealing. As the smells of various dinners drifted through the cavern Sam realized that, aged beef or no, she was suddenly really hungry.

"Hungry, Carter?"

Surprised, Sam turned to him. How had he...Carter's stomach chose that moment to growl again, rather loudly.

O'Neill grinned and gestured to her noisy abdomen.

Sam bit back an embarrassed grin. "Yes, Sir. I'm going to heat up an MRE. How about you?"

"Sure, Captain. Feel free to heat one up for me, too." O'Neill leaned back against the cave wall and crossed his arms across his chest with a grin.

"Yes, Sir," Carter replied automatically. "It should just take a few minutes." With a sharp nod, Sam rose and began filling her small pot with water from her canteen. She was startled to feel O'Neill's hand on her arm, stopping her movements.

"Carter. Captain...relax. I was joking." Jack's voice was sharp, carrying an edge that Carter wasn't used to hearing from him.

"Sir?" Sam didn't understand. She was hungry and making herself food; her CO was probably just as hungry and had asked her to make his as well. Sam was so used to following orders that she didn't think twice about O'Neill's request to make his meal, too. It wasn't as if he never cooked for her.

Jack pulled the now full pan from Carter's hands. He waved his Second back to her seat beside him, a small frown pulling at his features. He was silent as he positioned the pot at the base of the fire, careful to keep the handle pointed away for easy access.

Sam sat back, silently studying him. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but knew her CO well enough to wait for him to tell her what was bothering him. Finally, O'Neill had the pot settled just right and turned to her, his face silhouetted against the light from the fire, his expression shadowed.

"Carter, I don't ever expect you to cook my food."

Now Sam was really confused. What was going on in her CO's head? "Sir?"

O'Neill sighed, clearly frustrated. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, his features closed and tight. He held out his hand and Sam silently took the hint and handed him her packaged dinner. She watched O'Neill dig through his own pack for his MRE and wondered if he'd mind if she hunted up silverware for both of them. Glancing again at his stiff features, she decided to wait.

"Carter...I don't ever want you to feel as if I'm ordering you to do...things."

"Things, Sir?" Carter shook her head in confusion. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I really don't understand what you're saying."

O'Neill carefully began to pour the hot water into the heavy-duty meal bags, his attention seemingly focused wholly on his task. Carter decided it was safe enough and pulled two spoons out of her pack. She handed one to him and began to gently stir her own meal after he handed it back to her.

"Why were you going to make my dinner?"

"Um...because I was hungry? I mean, I was making mine...and I assumed, since you asked, that you were too and wanted me to?" Sam's responses were more like questions, but she really had no idea what was going on in O'Neill's head.

"I was, and I did, but I didn't expect you to..." Jack stirred his own meal, clearly struggling with something.

Carter ate silently for a few moments, waiting for her Colonel to continue. Finally she'd had enough.

"Sir, what's going on?" She set her meal down and leaned forward, catching O'Neill's eye. "I don't understand. Why were you so upset by me making your dinner." She gave him a shy grin and continued. "You know, I'm not that bad in the kitchen. I can make a mean soufflé." She gestured toward their standard-issue meals and shrugged. "That said, how hard can it be to heat up an MRE?"

O'Neill gazed at her for a moment and Sam loosened the tight grip she kept on her emotions, allowing herself to enjoy the subtle current she could feel flowing between them. She was always aware of him, Colonel O'Neill, but she rarely allowed herself to admit the attraction she felt for the man, Jack O'Neill. Or to acknowledge the connection she had felt with him almost from the first day they'd met. Finally she saw a small smile slide across the Colonel face, accompanied by the slight wrinkling at the corners of his eyes as his expression softened.

"I'm sorry, Captain. Sorry...Carter." O'Neill paused for a moment, studying his meal. "It's important to me that you don't feel...that you don't...oh hell. I don't know. I just want you to know that you don't ever have to cook my dinner for me. Or get me coffee. Or...any other stupid thing you think I'm asking you to do that doesn't relate to actual orders."

"Colonel...Sir. I don't get it. What's going on?"

O'Neill turned the full force of his brown eyes on her, his expression open and unguarded, and Sam felt her breath catch in her chest. Felt her heart stutter to a halt before resuming its rhythm again, faster and harder than before. She saw what she was feeling reflected in his eyes and knew that he was aware of his effect on her. Before she could duck her head in embarrassment over the realization that he was aware of her feelings...that he shared them...he shook his head slightly, holding her gaze longer. In that moment she knew he was allowing her to see how he felt.

Oh.

Wow.

Jack's soft voice drew her attention back to him. "Carter it would be really easy for you to take my requests as...orders. And I don't want that. I don't want you to ever feel as if I'm ordering you to...That my requests are taken as anything other than..."

Sam firmly shook her head, not breaking their gaze. "Sir, I know you'd never ask...or order...anything that wasn't..." Carter trailed off, unsure of how to say what needed to be said. She took a deep breath and said firmly, "Colonel. I trust you. When you asked me to cook your dinner tonight, you asked me. I didn't feel pressured, and I've never felt pressured, to...well..."

"Yes, I did ask. But I want you to know that you have every right to tell me to stuff it." O'Neill quirked a wider smile at his Captain. "Within reason, of course."

Carter returned his smile with one of her own, reveling in this brief moment of complete honesty between the two of them. She ducked her head and returned to her meal. "Of course, Sir. Within reason. Got it."

The two officers finished their meal in silence, then settled in for the evening. There was no need to keep watch tonight as the Cimmerians were handling that duty. Carter stepped outside the cave and washed the utensils they used while O'Neill set up their sleeping bags. She smiled gently when she saw that he'd placed his so that his head would be resting near hers, their legs extending in opposite directions around the fire. They'd slept that way on P9J-726 and Sam was glad to see her Colonel arranging them in that position again. Finished with the pot and spoons, Carter washed her face and got ready for bed. The other families in the cave had, like Colonel O'Neill, allowed their fires to burn down to embers for the night. The gentle pockets of light provide just enough illumination to guide Carter back to their spot. She picked her way around the sleeping families, returning to find her CO stretched out on his bag in the darkened cave.

Sam slid her boots off and stretched out, crossing her arms under her head, her elbow brushing O'Neill's as he lay on his own bag. She lay quietly, listening to his breathing, wondering if he was asleep yet.

"No, Carter, I'm still awake." O'Neill's whisper made her jump slightly.

"How'd you know what I was thinking, Sir?" Carter's voice was equally soft in the dark and silent cave.

"You think too loud, sometimes."

"Oh." Sam was quite for a moment. "Colonel? I was thinking..."

O'Neill's soft chuckle made Carter grin in the darkness. "I believe we've already established that, Carter."

"Yes, Sir. I just wanted to say...thank you."

"For?"

"For...um...caring enough to tell me that it's okay to...tell you to 'stuff it.' Sir."

"Within reason, Captain." O'Neill mock-growled softly.

"Of course, Colonel." Sam was silent again for a longer time. "The thing is, Sir, that...well...I don't really mind, you know?"

"Mind? Telling me to–"

"No. Not that." Sam rolled over onto her stomach, turned her face toward O'Neill, resting her head on her hands. She could barely make out the shape of her Colonel's head in the darkness against the wall of the cave, but she could feel him...so very close. "Sir, unlike some of my other CO's, you have never asked me to do anything you wouldn't do yourself. So...if you ask me to make your dinner–on a mission, of course–or...whatever...I know that the next time it'll be you doing the cooking. Or whatever." Sam heard O'Neill shift beside her and sensed that he'd turned to face her. She tried not to think about the fact that his face was just...inches from her own. "And...as for...well...anything else...Sir. You could never ask me to do anything I wasn't...willing...to do."

O'Neill was silent for a long moment, long enough that Carter Sam swallowed, afraid she'd said too much.

Finally she heard a gentle sigh beside her, felt the puff of her CO's breath across her face.

"Thank you, Carter. I appreciate that."

"So do I, Sir. So do I."