I stand in the doorway of my office contemplating a sight I've seen too many times. The character's positions may be different, but the scenario of hurt and comfort plays out before me.

I grimace as my heels echo in the quiet of the early morning hours of the dimly lit infirmary. Daniel jumps at the sound, but doesn't turn around to acknowledge me. To Daniel, my arrival signifies another night in which Colonel Jack O'Neill has spent in a coma. Another night in which Daniel has sat, not moving from the Colonel's bedside. His lover's bedside.

We dance a little dance, the three of us. A game. They know I know. I know they know I know...Don't ask, don't tell. I'm their doctor...I know their bodies as intimately as they do. They didn't hide it from me...I didn't force them to reveal their love for each other.

On base, the military man and the archeologist are the epitome of friendship... they conceal their true relationship in plain sight. But here, in the infirmary, I see. I can't help *but* see the truth. The pain, the fear, emotions are closer to the surface. The extra look, the unrequited desire to touch...

Daniel looks up at me as I record the printouts from the monitors that surround the Colonel's bed. Even though Daniel's face is mottled with the bruises he received on PX7463, he is ashen under the kaleidoscope of colors.

"Janet?"

I *am* hopeful after checking the Colonel's vitals and I let Daniel know. A hint of a smile appears and disappears. He shoots me a glance of barely contained anger at my next statement. "I need to examine you again, Daniel."

"No."

I explain it in plain and simple terms, that 'no' is not an acceptable answer. Daniel had endured a vicious beating on the planet. The Colonel coming to his aid is the reason the situation is not reversed. Daniel still refuses the examination more adamantly this time. He only acquiesces when I threaten that he *will* be separated from Colonel O'Neill if I am not permitted an examination.

He jumps up on the empty gurney next to the Colonel. I do not need medical equipment to see how exhausted Daniel is. The only new symptom is the low grade fever Daniel is running. I'm chalking that up to mental exhaustion, don't even comment on it, and give him an injection of an antibiotic. I draw blood as a precaution.

* * * * *

Daniel has not left the Colonel's bedside. The meal that Teal'c and Sam brought remains basically untouched on a tray resting on the bed table. The empty cups scattered on the tray measure Daniel's coffee intake.

The horrid orange, plastic chair is pushed to the Colonel's bedside, Daniel's head is resting on the mattress, pillowed on his right arm. From my angle, as I adjust the Colonel's oxygen intake, I note Daniel's left hand resting by the Colonel's forearm. Daniel's thumb tracing small circles on the Colonel's exposed skin the only touch Daniel will permit himself here on base. The blue eyes are open, cloudy with fatigue and worry, as Daniel waits patiently. I am embarrassed, feeling like I have stumbled upon an intimate moment...meant only for them to share. I am an intruder...

* * * * *

My shift is over...I stand in my office doorway contemplating a sight I have seen played out many times before. The Colonel has awakened, his right hand, with IV tubing dangling, is cupping Daniel's chin. Daniel's head is nodding in silent agreement to something said. The Colonel begins to gently trace the bruises on Daniel's cheeks.

For an iota of a second, I experience a hatred of the obvious love that they share. A feeling of jealousy...pure and simple. A harsh intake of breath, and reality washes over me. The Colonel and Daniel will spend their lives waiting. Waiting....marking time. They are honest with themselves...they just need for the world to be willing to share in their honesty. Until that time...they must wait.