The house was dark, quiet at this late hour.

She put her keys on their hook carefully, not wanting the fat bundle to jingle and wake the other occupant of the home. She crept across the hall and into the living room, flicking on the lamp rather than the main light—

He was asleep, upright, on the sofa, his head lolling backwards, mouth slightly open. He'd never admit to it, but he was snoring slightly. The dinner table was laid behind him, for two. An unopened bottle of wine stood like an accusing finger at the centre of the table. She sighed.

There was a post-it note stuck to his tee shirt. Frowning, she reached for it carefully, removing it without waking him.

Three words were written on it, in his all too familiar scrawl.

I'm not mad.

This drew a smile from her. She put the note on the arm of the sofa and sat down next to him gently. His eyebrows twitched and she knew she had woken him.

"What time is it?" he asked, voice cracked with sleep.

"Late," she replied. "I'm sorry."

"Did you get my note?"

She smiled again. "Yeah, I got it."

"Good." His arm snaked around her shoulders, although his eyes remained closed, head still tilted back. She let him pull her close, head resting on his shoulder. "Bad day?"

"I've had worse."

"Saved the world?"

"Maybe."

"You hungry?" He opened an eye at last, glancing at her sideways.

"I'm okay. You fall asleep watching videos?"

"Yep."

"How was your flight?"

His fingers were stroking her neck, playing with the collar of her shirt. "Long. Boring. The usual."

He turned his head as he spoke, so that his nose was now bumping hers. He kissed her, the gesture made sweeter than it might otherwise have been after nearly four weeks separation by his sleepiness.

She responded passionately, putting her hand on his chest. "Time for bed, you reckon?"

"Mmm," he replied, his mouth still so close to hers his lips brushed against her own with every word. "That sounds like a very good idea."

He knitted his fingers with hers as they stood up, for no fathomable reason. She felt at once very odd and very comfortable, walking with him up the stairs as a couple might in a park, swinging their entwined hands between them. "How's Washington?"

"I dunno... it lost its... sparkle when you left."

"I bet your apartments a mess," she chided.

He shrugged, pulling her around to face him as they reached the top of the stairs. He kissed her again. "It's perfectly tidy. I have no one to mess it up with."

She raised an eyebrow in a way disturbingly reminiscent to him of Teal'c. "Hmm."

He kissed her again, more awake now. She yelped in shock as he suddenly tipped her backwards. She fought to keep her balance, failed, and found herself in his arms.

"I thought you'd promised not to do that anymore?" she asked as he carried her into the bedroom.

He deposited her on the bed. "I lied."