Daniel dragged himself into the locker room, bone weary and numb from the battle with Anubis. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see were the eyes - the empty and cold eyes that stared at him from the stasis chamber . . . before a blonde head moved in to block his line of sight.

Two words. Two words were all it had taken for him to find what being ascended hadn't given him. Purpose. Drive. Desire. Need. Fulfillment. It crushed down on him, bore him down, bent him nearly double when he realized what those two words were meant to reflect. Two words.

Daniel looked at the tape on the locker beside his. O'Neill. He felt his heart slam against his chest in anxiety. Could he do it - could he pull the rabbit out of the hat just once more and set things to right? He let out a breath. Two words said he could.

Daniel showered quickly, changing into his street clothes and then headed up to the surface. He had books at home, journals that he'd been working in - remembrances of things glimpsed while he'd been ascended. He'd write them down as soon as they appeared in his mind, saving the analyzing for later when he had more data, more material to work with. Now he needed them - needed to sort through the information they contained because he knew, as sure as he was breathing, the clues to the answer he needed were there. Because two words said he was right. Two words uttered before all was lost and frozen in that horrible chamber where breath and heartbeat were nonexistent.

Hurrying down the streets to his home, he kept his mind focused on his goal. Get in, get the journals and the books, and get back. No time to waste. No time to spare. Jack needed him. Jack believed in him.

Jack had, with his last breath, said everything Daniel had needed to hear before the ascension - Jack just hadn't had the nerve to say it. Two words. Two simple little words and Daniel would have stayed forever. So simple. So tragically difficult.

Throwing open the front door to his house, Daniel dashed downstairs heading straight for the glass covered bookcase where he kept the journals. He pulled open the wide double doors, hearing them clatter against the wooden sides of the case and began pulling the books out one by one, putting them in a box that he kept by his desk. First one, then another, which was replaced by a third. Yesyesyesyes, he remembered what was in that fourth one... that would be useful.

He spun around at the name, his heart thudding rapidly. "Sam. What . . . what are you doing here? Is something wrong? How'd you get in?"

"You left your door open," she said and Daniel could hear the congestion in her voice. He looked at her eyes, smudged black around the bottom lashes. She'd been crying.

She walked up to him slowly, deliberately, her denim-clad legs carrying her almost silently. She was so close he could smell her breath, sour and stale, the smell of fear . . . and anger. She glared into his eyes. "You sonofabitch."

He heard the shattering of glass and felt an odd sting in his shoulder as his world flashed in colors and a sharp throbbing started from his jaw and traveled up into his skull. He wondered what had happened, why he was having to look up at Sam as she stood above him, fists clenched and eyes wild with fury.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, suddenly realizing that she'd punched him and he'd fallen into the custom etched glass door that Jack had had made for a house-warming gift. "Are you nuts?"

"I went over there, to his house, heart in hand," she shouted down at him, "wanting to explain. Knowing he might not have long. I've been trying," she gulped air, "for seven years to tell him. To show him. To get him to show me. And then you . . . and Teal'c . . . and those goddamn donuts!"

Pulling himself gingerly from the wreckage that was now his bookcase, Daniel returned Sam's glare. "Could you manage to be just a trifle more petty?" he snarled. "Jack's frozen in some alien machine and you're over here because we walked in on your moment? Jesus, Sam!"

"I tried to tell him on the ship," she yelled. "He cut me off, said he knew." Tears were flowing down her face now, but she didn't stop to pay them any heed. "At the end, I wanted him to look at me . . . have my face be the last one he saw. But he didn't look at me, did he? He didn't even know I was there, did he? You said he said 'goodbye.' Tell me, Daniel, what else did he say? What was that other part you so easily kept to yourself?"

"Come on, Daniel. You could understand all that proto-Latin he was speaking. What'd he say? Hmm?" She stopped and shoved him in the chest. "You want me to tell you? All it took was a quick look on the internet and I found it. Shall I tell you?"

Sam nodded her head slowly. "It all makes sense now. All these years, all this time we've known each other. He's never dated anyone, never had us over to meet a girlfriend or invited anyone out to dinner. It was you. All this time - it was you."

"Making it worse?" she scoffed. "Making it worse!? Worse than wasting seven years of my life waiting for someone to love me who's in love with another man?" Sam wiped at her eyes, creating larger smears of makeup. "At Janet's funeral, he stared at you the whole time. He never turned his head, never looked up at me. You were the only thing he could see. Just like on the ship."

"Is that why you moved in front of me? Trying to steal a little more glory?" Daniel was ready for her this time. He caught her hand and spun her around, trapping her writhing body against him as she fought against his hold. "Since we're being so honest here, let me ask you something. When Jack was hit, what would have happened if you had, oh - say, held your position?"

"And, instead of getting up and running like some Harlequin romance heroine to your lover's side, perhaps you could have just turned and shot in the direction the enemy fire came from. You've got that modified assault rifle - it would have been deadly at that range - even through Jaffa battle armor."

"Shut the fuck up! You don't have any idea what you're talking about!" Sam renewed her struggle and Daniel tightened his hold until she gasped in surprise at the pain that suddenly shot through her.

"We were below your line of sight - the bullets would have gone over our heads but hit the Jaffa. I've seen the recreations - I've read the reports. Instead, you were hovering over a man who was clearly outside your area of responsibility and as a result, Janet's dead. Is this how you prove to Jack how you feel? By letting your emotions get in the way of your field command responsibilities?"

Sam's breath was coming in ragged gulps as Daniel shoved her toward the stairs. "Now get out. I've got work to do to help Jack out of this mess and you're wasting my time." Sam drew breath to speak and Daniel held up a hand to stop her. "Do NOT make threats you have no ability to carry out. If push comes to shove, we already know who Jack would give his career up for - he's already tried to do it once."

The words hit Sam like a punch to the gut. She made her way shakily toward the stairs and climbed them slowly. In a few moments, Daniel heard the door slam. He sat down heavily on his desk and tried to calm his rattled nerves.

Two words. Two words had just changed everything he'd ever known about everyone around him. Just two words. Aveo amicus. A pledge and a promise.