The Major and the Keester

"Janet, what exactly are we doing?" Sam glanced around nervously, wondering if anyone had seen them.

"Will you relax? That's what this whole night is about -- relaxing. Letting go." Janet peered around the people in line ahead of them. "We are never going to get in."

"Yeah. I always wanted to spend an evening waiting in line for a club we don't even get to see the inside of." Sam folded her arms over her chest and turned up her nose.

A tall bouncer slinked along the queue and stopped just before the two Air Force ladies, who looked nothing like Air Force officers in the outfits they had donned for the evening. "You," he pointed at Sam, "come with me. And bring your friend too."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Do you want to get in?" the bouncer returned.

"Yeah." Sam was confused.

"Come with me." He waved for the ladies to follow.

Janet grabbed Sam's arm and dragged her along behind the bouncer.

The club was loud and busy; people everywhere, dancing, drinking, conversing.

"Janet, we can't do this." Sam glanced around nervously again.

"Sam," Janet grabbed her friend's arm once more, "we are here and we're staying. Come on; just let loose a little. Have fun, dammit!"

The two ladies walked to the bar and ordered drinks, then settled at a nearby table. They sipped their drinks and watched the people.

Sam looked up, took a double take, then tapped Janet on the arm. "Isn't that Major Davis," she paused, "with a goatee?"

Janet directed her attention toward the person in question. She studied the man closely. "Oh my. You're right. It does look a lot like him."

"You don't suppose he has a twin he never told us about?"

"Sam, have you ever really talked to the man outside of work?"

The major lowered her head. "No. Actually. Wow. Are we really that caught up in what we're doing that we forget to be people?"

"Yeah. Sometimes." Janet sipped her drink again. "Let's go talk to him."

"What?" Sam was stunned.

"We can have fun with him. Come on." The doctor pulled Sam from her chair and dragged her across the floor.

The man in the black suit, an excellent garment of fine materials - a long jacket and tapered pants -- was dancing with a couple of model-like women, truly enjoying himself. He saw the two lovely ladies approaching and kindly excused himself from the group he had been entertaining.

"Hello. I don't think I've seen you here before," the man greeted them.

Janet stepped forward and flirtatiously tossed her hair. "No. We've never been here before."

"Well, well, then. Let me show you around." He put his arms around the shoulders of the two ladies, directing them around the club, introducing them to security guards and bartenders.

"By the way," Janet began, "your name?"

He stepped away, made a small, polite bow, and replied, "Nick. Nick Keester."

Janet's eyes widened; she turned to Sam and mouthed, "It's not him."

Sam offered a weak smile that widened to a grin as Nick rose from his bow. "I'm Sam and this is Janet."

"Very nice to meet you both." Nick lifted and kissed the hands of the two ladies.

The band on stage began its set. At the loud crash of a cymbal, Sam faced the stage and gasped.

"What? Sam, what is it?" Janet asked, concerned.

Sam said nothing, only motioned toward the stage.

Janet looked where she was directed. "Oh my, Sam. This is very strange."

"Ya think?" Sam wrinkled her face, not believing she had actually said that. She saw Janet's reaction. "Sorry."

"Sam, we..." Janet stopped and turned to their Major Davis-look-alike friend. "Excuse me, Nick. Do you have a Polaroid camera?"

"I think I can find one." He flashed a toothy grin. "Wait here. I'll be right back." He kissed her cheek before dashing off into the crowd.

"Janet, what are you doing?"

"Just wait."

A few moments later, Nick returned with the camera. "Here you are."

"Thank you." She placed the camera to her eye. "Smile, baby."

Nick flashed his teeth again and Janet pressed the shutter release. The photo slid from the camera. She plucked it out and handed it to Sam; then turned to snap a photo of the man on stage. She handed that photo to Sam as well.

"You like the band?" Nick asked. "That guy; he's Bobby Talisman. He's a great musician."

Sam commented, "Yes, he's very good."

"He's one of my clients. Well, my friend's client. Bill Sutton. Maybe you've heard of him? Us. Big Sound Management?"

"Sorry. We don't get out much," Janet replied.

"Oh, that's terrible." Nick's face fell. How could two such beautiful ladies have no social lives?

"We're pretty busy most of the time," Janet added.

"All the time?" Nick asked, astonished.

"Our work is important." Janet clicked a couple more photos of the club.

"I'll bet." Nick desperately wanted to change the subject. "Hey, let's dance!"

The ladies agreed, and onto the floor they stepped - with Nick and the camera. Janet was ready to snap more photos if she found the opportunity. Dancing to the sounds of Bobby Talisman and his band, the music invigorated them and inspired their steps. The set finished and the DJ put on some music to fill the time.

"Hey, you wanna meet Bobby?" Nick asked, enthusiastically.

Sam and Janet shared a look, then replied affirmatively to Nick's suggestion. Meeting this rock star could be interesting.

Nick led the ladies through winding corridors to a room where Bobby was reclining on a leather couch, drink in one hand and a silent cell phone in the other.

"Keester, you bastard!" Bobby leapt from the couch and gave Nick a shove.

Nick reeled a moment, then, after recovering, responded, "What? What did I do?"

Bobby waved his phone around, "Your...your... partner... associate... Sutton...."

"What? I swear, I had nothing to do with it." Nick raised his hands in surrender.

"No. Maybe not." Bobby turned away, took two steps, turned back, took two steps, and pointed a finger in Nick's face. "He screwed me, Keester!"

"What, Bobby? What did he do?"

"Um...." He noticed the ladies standing behind Nick and leaned in close and whispered something in his ear.

Nick's eyes widened. "Oh. Wow. Um, look, Bobby, um, there's nothing *I* can do, but I'll talk to Bill and see what can be done. Okay?"

Bobby shifted nervously for a moment.

"Okay?"

Bobby nodded. "Okay. Sure."

"Now, Bobby, these two lovely ladies are very eager to meet you." He motioned the ladies forward. "Bobby Talisman, I'd like you to meet Janet and Sam."

Bobby scrutinized the women, squinted his eyes, and tilted his head to one side. "Hello. Nice to meet you both." He shook hands with the ladies.

Sam and Janet responded with *hellos* and smiles, looking closely at Bobby, not sure if he noticed their observations.

"Um, look, Keester, I've gotta split. Make sure Sutton calls me," Bobby said, hurriedly, pushing Nick, Sam, and Janet from his dressing room.

"No problem, Bobby." Nick moved out of the way.

"Nice meeting you, Bobby," Sam called as Bobby darted away like a rabbit from a hound.

"Yeah, you too." He disappeared around a corner.

"Oh my god, Janet!" Sam's eyes widened as she faced the doctor.

"I know." Janet's eyes were equally as wide at the realization.

Nick looked at the ladies and smiled. "Yeah, a lot of women have that response to Bobby. He's a great guy."

Janet and Sam could only look at each other and giggle. Giggle. Neither could remember doing that since high school. A childish gesture, but very much fun.

Janet recovered from her fit of giggles enough to speak. "Mr. Keester..."

"Nick. Please."

"Of course. Nick, this has been a wonderful evening, but we really need to be going."

"Oh yeah. Right. Um, let's get you to the door." He guided the ladies toward the exit.

"Thank you very much, Nick. This was nice," Sam stated, giving their gracious host a small kiss on the cheek.

Janet made a similar gesture and the ladies crossed the parking lot to their vehicle.

*****

SGC -- Next Day -- Infirmary

Sam entered the infirmary and leaned against one of the beds. "Major Davis is on his way down."

"Really?" Janet smiled, straightening some implements on a table.

Sam nodded, glancing toward the door as a certain Air Force Major entered. She watched him cross the infirmary to the doctor.

"Good morning, Dr. Fraiser, Major," he greeted.

"Morning, Major Davis," Janet responded.

"Major," Sam returned.

Major Davis glanced back and forth between the two women, studying their expressions. He really had come down here to ask the doctor something, but all he could think to say now was: "What?"

Sam shook her head. "Nothing." She tried to hold in a smirk.

"No. What? Do I have something on my face? Is my hair sticking up? What?"

Janet shook her head, turning away from Sam, who was almost in hysterics. "No, Major. I'm sorry. We had an interesting evening. I guess it's still affecting us."

This was intriguing. "Really? Where'd you go?"

"This club, Global," Sam replied.

Major Davis' eyes widened. "What?" He seemed to be saying that a lot during this conversation.

"Yeah. We were there for a few hours last night. It was great." Janet smiled. "You should go there sometime."

"Yeah. Maybe," Davis replied nervously, shifting on his feet, and searching for something his eyes could focus on that was neither Sam nor Janet. He settled on a tray of medical supplies and attempted to resume normal conversation. "Bobby Talisman played there last night, right?"

"Yes, he did." A grin crept over Sam's visage as she removed several Polaroid photographs from her labcoat pocket. "He was very good."

"Were you there?" Janet asked, accepting and flipping through the photographs handed her by Sam.

Major Davis cleared his throat, eyeing the photographs, and folded his arms over his chest. "No, actually. I had to catch up on some mission reports."

"Really?" Sam sounded impressed and disappointed at the same time.

The major furrowed his brow. "Yes. I had several to read. Large files, at that." What exactly do these people do on these missions to get themselves into so much trouble? "Honestly, I fell behind when I took a few days' leave."

Sam quirked an eyebrow at Janet.

"Ladies, Major Davis," a deep voice came from the door, "the general wants to see us."

"Yes, sir," Sam responded to her commanding officer.

*****

The meeting with General Hammond was uneventful, typical of mission briefings, except they were told Major Davis might go through the gate with them. However, the mission would not be for another few days, so Sam and Janet decided to continue on their quest to unearth more on this Bobby Talisman character.

"Janet, last night was a series of déjà vu incidents," Sam stated as they were exiting the briefing room.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Déjà vu, Major?" Jack asked from over her head.

Sam glanced at him. "Yeah. We were at a club last night," she smirked at his raised eyebrow, "and there was a guy who looked a lot like Major Davis."

"Really?" Jack's eyebrow rose again.

Sam ignored Jack and returned her conversation to Janet. "I wonder, should we find the major and ask him a few pointed questions?"

Janet nodded and the two women slipped away from the colonel and down a corridor.

Jack stopped and turned to Daniel who was two steps behind him. "Do you have any idea what they are talking about?"

"Huh?" the scientist responded, pulling his nose out of a book.

"Nevermind," Jack responded, waving a hand at Daniel, who returned to his book and his path along the corridor. Jack huffed and decided to follow the devious looking doctors on their quest to interrogate Major Davis.

*****

Sam and Janet located Major Davis in the commissary, sipping coffee and perusing a set of mission reports. He was right, he did have quite a few to catch up on; he should read faster. The ladies sat across the table from him, holding matching smirks on their faces.

Davis glanced up from his reports, his eyes meeting those feminine smirks. "Yes, ladies?"

Janet smiled. "So, tell us about this club."

He cocked his head to one side, placed his coffee cup on the table. "What club?" he asked innocently.

"Global."

Davis shook his head and shrugged. "Sorry, can't tell you what I don't know."

"You know," Sam said pointedly, "people generally say that when they really know something, but they don't want to tell."

He rested his arms on the table, leaning closer to the ladies. "I know nothing."

Sam nodded. "I see. Then, I suppose you also have no idea why Martouf was there?"

Janet's head snapped toward Sam, not expecting her to have broached that particular subject so abruptly.

Davis' eyebrows shot up so fast, Sam was sure they would fly off his face. "Excuse me?" he stammered.

Sam smiled. "Martouf. He was there last night. Singing...."

His brow furrowed now. He blinked once. "Can we discuss this somewhere else?"

Sam rose and motioned to the door. "Anywhere you'd like, Major."

*****

Jack lowered the newspaper he had planted in front of his face to hide from the two devious doctors and watched them leave the commissary. What were those ladies up to now? And why were they so interested in Major Davis? Pentagon Paul? Guess it is time to follow the trio of Majors. He rose from his seat and calmly walked out the door. Spotting the odd triple turning a corner, he trotted along behind them at a safe distance. Around the corner he could no longer see them. Where had they gone? He had not walked that slowly; they could not be very far. He turned to look behind him to be sure there were no small Asgard-like aliens who might have cleared the area, then in front, down the corridor. Okay. This was the SGC, same as before, but where had they gone? Those three were sneaky. Shrugging, he continued along the corridor, peeking toward the doors along the walls. Nothing.

Passing one of the bulkheads he decided to lean against it and wait for someone to exit one of the rooms. They had to be on this corridor. There was nowhere else for them to go.

*****

Davis pushed the door closed and turned, forcefully, to face Sam and Janet. "How do you know about that?"

Janet grinned. "About what?"

Sighing heavily, not in the mood for childish games, especially with United States Air Force Officers, he responded coldly, "Martouf."

"We were enjoying our time at the club, and we could swear he was there. Singing and dancing on stage."

"Along with another gentleman," Sam began, not sure if she wanted to reveal this piece of the puzzle just yet, but decided on it anyway, "who very much resembled you, Major, with a goatee. Very sexy, by the way."

Davis' face fell. This was worse than he had thought. Shaking his head, "No. You didn't?"

The two ladies nodded.

"Something wrong?" Janet asked.

"No." Davis sighed. "The man you saw..."

"Met, Major," Sam corrected.

"Very well, *met*, he is my cousin."

"Striking resemblance," the blond major commented.

"Odd, I know, but he works for a music management company, which was the perfect location."

"For what?" The lack of information from the major, sexy or not, was beginning to irritate her.

"Major Carter, you do know I'm not supposed to be discussing this with you, or anyone, right?"

Sam shrugged. "Then don't."

Davis nodded and prepared to leave, satisfied they understood.

"We'll just find the information somewhere else." Janet crossed her arms over her chest, a half-smirk on her lips.

He pushed the door closed again. "Why are you pressing this? Do you know how long it took me to get approval for this? The JCS didn't want to approve it and I had to scrape up mountains of research to press my point. *And* I couldn't get any help from the SGC because no one was supposed to know about it, making my job that much more difficult. Finally, it was approved and arranged. After miles and miles of red tape and security clearance procedures...."

"Davis!" Sam grabbed his shoulders. "We got it. I just want to know why Martouf is singing in a band. On Earth."

Davis collected himself and took a deep breath, looking directly into Sam's eyes. "Officially, he's not. That's Bobby Talisman. Martouf died in the Za'tar'c incident. Officially."

"Whose idea was this? I didn't know Martouf could sing." Sam released her hold on Davis' shoulders and stepped away.

"Look, I can't tell you much more than I already have, but, I will tell you what I can." Davis leaned heavily against the door. "Martouf was shot with the Zat'n'ktel, but, somehow, it didn't kill him. He was rushed to the infirmary, pronounced dead, then shipped to a secret facility, because Anise told us he could be revived, sans Za'tar'c programming."

Sam and Janet shared a look. That explained why they had not seen Anise since that incident. She had been working with Martouf and Lantash.

"We were doubtful, at first, not sure there was any way to save him. Then Anise performed some ritual of the Tok'ra and several days later, Martouf was revived, with a great deal of aid from Lantash. He was confused and wished to return to Vorash, but, of course, that wasn't possible. We built him a cover, Anise too, and found him a place to live while working his new job."

"He's a musician? And hops club gigs for a living?" Janet asked, slightly confused about Martouf's choice of profession, but less so about why he was on Earth.

"His idea, actually. He was intrigued by 'Earth music' and thought it would make a great cover."

"I'd have to agree. What Goa'uld would look for a Tok'ra hiding on Earth as a musician? However, he did give me the strangest look last night." Sam gave an almost visible shudder.

Davis squirmed a little. "Yeah. Nick told me Bobby was acting weird when he met a couple of women. I'm assuming he meant the two of you." He indicated Sam and Janet.

Janet tilted her head to one side. "Does your cousin know any of the details?"

"Are you kidding me?" Davis looked astonished. "You *did* talk to him right?"

"Yeah?" Janet asked, somewhat confused. Nick had been nice enough last night; she had not seen anything that would indicate he was a 'bad' guy.

Davis rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nick has a tendency to talk to the wrong people about the wrong things. You know the old adage 'open mouth, insert foot'?" He watched the female majors nod affirmatively. "Yeah? Well, Nick gives a *whole* new meaning to the phrase. He's a great guy, but his mouth is sometimes faster than his head."

"I know some other people like that," Sam muttered under her breath, generating a giggle from Janet.

"All Nick knows is the cover story we've given him about Bobby. We found a musician with some talent in need of a manager."

"One more thing, Davis," Sam took a couple steps toward him again.

"Yes, Major?"

Sam wrinkled her brow. "His attitude, Bobby's, was... well... different. More, aggressive."

"Well, yes, that's part of his cover. It's... his unique twist on the character."

"Who else knows about this?"

"No one, Major. Just the general and the JCS. Even the President is out of the loop. And we'd like to keep it that way. As quiet as possible. So, you two are the only others who know." He looked pointedly between the two.

"Understood. Not a word," Sam complied.

A thought hit him and he asked with a paranoid tone, "You haven't told anyone else have you?"

"No, Davis, we haven't told anyone. Calm down." Sam placed a hand on his shoulder and watched him relax and release a held breath. He was really tense, definitely in need of a night out, away from the mountain and anything related to the Stargate.

"Look, I've got to get back to the infirmary. It's time for Colonel O'Neill's routine physical, and you know how he adores those." Janet stopped at the door Davis had opened for her. "Let me know how things turn out." She wiggled an eyebrow at Sam and Davis.

Davis nodded. He seemed nervous, but relieved. Apparently keeping *this* particular secret was a great burden. Understandable, considering the relationship Sam had with Martouf. He hated keeping friends apart, but it was necessary that she not know, otherwise, had she been compromised, the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri could have been in danger.

"Davis, are you okay?" Sam asked him, gently touching her hand to his slightly flushed face.

Blinking a couple times, he looked into her eyes and responded, "Yes, thank you. I'm fine."

Sam smiled. "Okay."

Something startled her and she jumped. It was a ringing phone. Her brow furrowed, she asked, "When did you get a cell phone?"

Sighing heavily, Davis reached into his pocket and retrieved the contraption. "My cousin insisted I carry it so he could 'keep me informed' of Bobby's events." He sighed again as the phone rang for the third time, then pressed the appropriate button. "Major Davis."

"Davis, you little shit! You are in such BIG trouble."

He rolled his eyes. "Hello, Bobby."

"Something wrong, Davis?"

"No. Just exhausted. What do you need."

"To kick your ass, you little shit. How did they find out? How did they find me? This is not good. I am not happy."

"Bobby, look. I had NO idea they were going there, no idea they had even made those plans."

"You should have checked. You knew I was going to be there, or did Keester, that little bastard, forget to tell you?"

"No. He told me. Sent me the whole gig schedule. But spontaneous plans by fellow USAF officers who live half a continent away are nearly impossible to predict."

The line was quiet on the other end for a moment.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, hold on."

Davis waited, and waited, and waited, and sighed.

Sam raised an eyebrow, giving Davis a confused look. Then mouthed, "What's going on?"

Davis shrugged and waited.

"Davis, I need to meet with you on something."

Calm Bobby, something was going on; Davis only shook his head. "All right. Where? When?"

"Um, that little coffee shop that Dr. Jackson likes so much, on Maple."

"Okay, yeah, I know where that is. What time, Bobby?"

"Twenty minutes."

"You're kidding right? Bobby, do you know how long it will take me just on the elevator ride?"

"Oh, right, sorry. Fine, an hour. No more!"

"Thank you. So, the coffee shop at," Davis checked his watch, "1300. You do realize half the city will be there, right?"

"Yeah? So? Is that a problem?" Bobby snapped.

Davis shook his head, knowing Bobby could not see. "No, Bobby. That's fine."

"Oh, and Davis?"

"Yes?"

"Bring Samantha with you."

Sam watched as Davis' eyes nearly popped out of his head. "What?" she whispered.

Davis held a finger in the air, advising her to wait a minute. "Bobby, are you out of your mind?"

"No. I need to talk to her. Is she coming or not? I know she's there, I can hear her."

"Hold on." Davis lowered the phone and faced Sam. "Bobby wants you to go with me to meet him."

"What? Is he crazy?"

"NO!" came a muffled scream through the phone.

Davis and Sam both ignored it and continued their conversation. "No, Major, he just wants to talk to you."

"1300?"

Davis nodded.

"Yeah, sure. I guess that's okay." Her face fell as she sighed.

"What? What is it?"

"I have to clear it with Colonel O'Neill."

"BASTARD!" came another muffled yell.

"I'll do it. I'll tell him, I'm taking you to lunch. He'll buy it."

"Okay. Sure."

Davis put the phone back to his ear. "Bobby, she's coming... no, don't worry... she'll be there... Bobby, I have to go now if you want us to make it on time... bye, Bobby... I'll tell her... good-bye." Davis disconnected the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket. "That man is impossible."

Sam laughed. "Really?"

"Trust me, it was better when he was Martouf. Bobby Talisman is a royal pain in the...."

"Mikta?" Sam offered.

"Exactly." Davis shook his head. "Meet me at the elevator. I've gotta go tell Colonel O'Neill that I'm taking you to lunch."

"He'll wanna come too."

"If he does, I'll tell him it's not that kind of lunch."

"What?"

"I'll tell him... oh, I don't know. I'll think of something." Davis opened the door and exited to the corridor.

*****

"No, Major."

"What? Colonel, it's LUNCH." Davis could not believe Colonel O'Neill had just told him that Major Carter could not go to lunch.

"No. She can't go."

"I don't suppose there's a reason why not, sir?"

"I need her here," Jack replied nonchalantly.

"For what, sir? There's no mission scheduled for the next few days. And we'll only be gone for an hour, sir." This was truly irritating.

"No."

Davis scowled.

"Tell me what all that déjà vu stuff Carter and Doc were talking about this morning, and I *might* consider it."

"What 'déjà vu stuff', sir?" Keep up the protocol, he might not be such a hardass about this.

"That whispering they were doing this morning. I know they were looking for you. *And* that they found you. The three of you left the commissary together," Jack stated pointedly.

"I'm sure they would love to know that you were spying on them and following them, sir." Two could play this ridiculous blackmail word game.

Jack's face scrunched. "Ew. You're right. Carry on, Major. Go, have lunch, enjoy. Just have her back by 2300!" Jack waved Davis off in a playful 'get away you' motion.

"Yes, sir." Davis straightened to attention for a second before sliding through the door and bursting into a full run down the corridor, almost clobbering Sergeant Siler in the process. "Excuse me, Sergeant!" he called as he passed.

"Yes, sir," Siler responded, turning his head and wondering if there was some kind of emergency, but hearing no klaxons, he shrugged and continued on his way.

*****

"What took you so long?" Sam asked Davis as he slid to a halt inches from the elevator doors.

"Jack," he huffed, catching his breath.

"Right. Let's go." She dragged him onto the elevator car with her and pressed the button for level 11.

They changed elevators and rode to the surface, then exited the mountain.

*****

Bobby lifted his coffee cup to his lips, then returned it to the table without taking a sip. His eyes darted around the room, searching, looking. *Where are they?* He glanced at the clock on the wall; 12:51. *What is taking so long?* Lifting the cup again, he put it to his nose and inhaled the fragrance of the rich, French roast coffee; this time he took a sip before returning the cup to the table.

He nearly upset the table, coffee and all, when he bounded out of his chair at the sight of Major Davis and Major Carter entering the coffee shop. "What took you so long?" he huffed.

Eyeing Bobby with a scowl, Davis replied, "Bobby, we're eight minutes early." He pointed to his watch.

"Yeah. Fine. Sit down."

Davis and Sam took seats at the table Bobby had claimed as his own for the duration of his stay.

"So, what's up, Bobby?" Davis asked, perusing the menu.

"This is NOT good, Paul!"

"What?"

"THIS!" Bobby pointed to Sam.

"What did I do?" she asked, haughtiness to her tone.

"You know! You're not supposed to know. No one's supposed to know."

"Calm down, Bobby. She and Janet are the only ones who know. No one else does."

"Are you sure?" Bobby squinted his eyes menacingly.

Calmly, Davis replied, "Yes."

"Good."

Davis wrinkled his brow. "Wasn't there something you wanted to meet with me about? I'm sure if Sam and Janet knowing about you was all, you would have grilled me over the phone, not invited me to lunch."

"Right. First, that cousin of yours, he's a pain."

"I know. So are you, Bobby."

"Not funny, Davis."

Davis only smirked.

"Second, I'm having a party, ok, well, I want to go to a party, but no one's throwing one for me to crash."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" Davis asked, scratching his head, very confused.

"Throw a party. I'm bored. I need something to do. Something to inspire my music." Bobby ran a slender index finger around the rim of his coffee cup.

"That's not in my job description, Bobby," Davis stated plainly.

"Your job," Bobby began through semi-clenched teeth, pointing a finger at Davis, "is to make sure I have everything I need."

"That does NOT include parties where you can get plastered and act stupid."

Bobby's hand fell to the table. "Damn."

"What?"

"I just remembered that I left Keester locked in the car."

"What?!" Davis and Sam scrambled to their feet and ran to the street. Davis was sure Bobby had locked his cousin in the trunk of the car, or had him tied up and taped to the back seat.

"Those military types. Always concerned about the well-being of a fellow man." The musician slid from his chair and casually made his way to the car.

"Bobby, let him out." Davis crossed his arms over his chest.

"No," Bobby deadpanned.

"What?" Sam nearly shrieked, not believing her voice had made that sound.

"No. I won't let him out."

"Why not?" Sam's voice was more controlled this time.

"Because I don't want to. He annoys me." Bobby turned and leaned against the car door, pressing his ass against the window.

Nick rapped on the window, asking, begging to be let out of the car.

Sam sighed and walked to the other side of the vehicle, tapping gently on the window to get Nick's attention. Once she had it, she pointed to the doorlock and indicated that he lift it up to unlock to door, since he was inside the car.

"Oh," Nick giggled, embarrassed. "I knew that."

Bobby hrmphed, rolling his eyes. "Why'd ya have to go and do that?"

Sam only smirked at him and pushed the car door closed once Nick had stepped from the car, onto the street.

Nick walked around the car, shifting nervously, straightening his shirt and pants. He raised his head, then took two steps backward in surprise. "Hey, cousin! Wow! Bobby didn't tell me you were gonna be here."

"Hello, Nick." Davis could think of no other way to greet his energetic cousin.

"So what's going on?" Nick glanced nervously between his cousin, Sam, and Bobby.

"Keester, we're busy. Get back in the car," Bobby spat.

Nick scowled and began to walk back to the car.

Davis put a hand on his shoulder. "Nick, stop."

"Huh?"

"Stay here." Davis took the two steps needed to stand directly in front of Bobby. "Look, you want a party, fine, I'll find someone to throw you a party; however, you have to stop being a pain in the ass!"

Bobby looked hurt. "Yeah, sure."

Davis leaned close. "You don't, and I'll blow your cover so fast...."

"Whoa, okay, Davis. Geez. Sorry." Bobby pushed Davis to within arm's length, trying to push him farther, but the man was strong.

"Guys," Sam quipped, "um, can we have a little less display of testosterone?"

Bobby sheepishly looked to the ground. "Sorry, Samantha."

Sam's expression changed from a sneer to near shock. It really was him. Why it took that one word to make her really believe it, she did not know. "Bobby, let's go for a walk." She put a hand on his shoulder and directed him to walk with her. "I won't keep him too long," she called over her shoulder.

Davis waved. "Don't worry about it Major, just get him back in time to plan the party he's gonna crash."

Sam laughed and continued walking.

"Paul, what the hell are you talking about?" Nick asked.

"Come on, Nick. We have to start working on a way to throw a party for Bobby to crash." Paul patted his cousin on the shoulder, shaking his head.

"What about Bobby's car?"

"Leave it. Come on. Mine's around the corner."

*****

"So, Bobby," Sam began, not really sure where to go from there.

"Samantha, I'm really sorry that I could not tell you, but I was told it was imperative that no one know, especially you."

She smiled at his soft eyes and the calm voice she was accustomed to that he chose to use instead of his 'Bobby Talisman' persona voice. "That's why you freaked when you saw us the other night."

"Yes. I'm sorry. I should have tried to explain."

"It's okay. Janet and I probably should have been more discreet. I'm just happy to know that you're alive." She threaded her arm through his.

"Samantha, I am also pleased to be alive. I was very afraid that Anise would not be able to help me and I would die not having seen you again." His voice was sad, his words heavy.

"Well, you're Bobby Talisman, and I think you should crash a party and have fun. It's what musicians do."

"It is. You think Davis will throw the party?"

"Probably not, he'll just organize it and make sure it's crashable for you."

"Excellent. Maybe the little shit will do something right for a change." He saw the look on Sam's face. "Oh, sorry. I get carried away."

"No. It's okay. I kinda like it. Stay in character, wouldn't want any fans to see you slipping."

"Right. Let's get back to Keester's hotel before he does a high dive off the bed onto the floor and I have to find a new lackey."

Sam laughed.

*****

Keester's Hotel Room -- Early Evening

Several legal pads and pens littered the table and floor and bed. Pages of scribbles organizing a party for Bobby to crash. Bobby had already crashed -- on the bed -- as soon as he had gotten in with Sam.

"Why are we planning this? Just have a party and let Bobby know about it. He can crash and have fun, then go home and... well, crash," Sam suggested.

Davis quirked an eyebrow and rubbed his face. "Sounds a lot better than trying to organize something. Okay, where should we have this little shindig, then?"

"We could try Global again."

"No," Nick spoke up, "I don't think they liked Bobby much."

"Yeah? Can't imagine why," Davis groaned.

"There's a new club a few blocks from here that might work."

"Oh, right. Matchbox, right?" Nick animated his words with hand motions.

Sam nodded. "Yes. Sounds perfect for a party. Bobby can crash. And it's not far. He could walk if he wanted."

Nick laughed so hard he nearly burst into tears. "Bobby? Walk? You don't really know Bobby, do you?"

"Guess not," Sam responded, a little confused.

"Nick, you make the arrangements for the party. I'll keep an eye on Bobby." Davis released an exasperated sigh and slumped onto the other side of the king-sized bed.

Nick was busy making phone calls and scribbling more information on a legal pad, Bobby was asleep, Davis was not far behind, so Sam decided to go down to the lobby. She snapped her fingers in Nick's direction and indicated she would return a little later; Bobby nodded emphatically and returned to his phone call.

Sam left the room, key in hand, and wandered several corridors. She spotted a phone and decided to make a call of her own.

*****

SGC - Evening

"Hello," Janet spoke into the receiver, still scribbling furiously on a report she was trying to finish before the end of time.

"Hi, Janet."

"Sam! How was your little talk with Bobby?" She dropped her pen, ignoring the report from hell.

"Oh, you know. Just a talk. How'd you know I was going to meet him?"

"Major Davis. I caught him on his way to talk to Colonel O'Neill."

"Ah. Well, now we're working on planning a party. You up for going to one?"

"Always. Where?"

"Matchbox. That new club."

"Right. You bet. What time?"

"Well, you busy now? Why don't I pick you up, we can get all dressed up and head over there."

Janet pondered the report on her desk again. "Yeah. Come on. I need to get out of here."

*****

Matchbox - Late Evening

"Sam, this is an incredible club," Janet commented, looking around at the lights and people and décor.

"Isn't it?" Sam returned. "Let's see if we can find Major Davis." She held Janet's elbow as they shifted through the crowd of people. Just a small crowd, this party was for Bobby Talisman to crash, not for the entire state of Colorado to attend.

Past several tall tables, each surrounded by high stools, and flashing lights, Sam and Janet located the elusive Major Davis, sitting alone, watching the people.

"Evening, Major," Sam greeted, raising her voice to speak over the music.

Davis looked up from his drink. "Evening. And it's Paul. We're off-duty."

"Of course," Sam responded sheepishly. "Mind if we join you?"

"Please." Davis stood and motioned to the other stools around the table.

Janet craned her neck, looking over the dance floor. "When's Bobby coming?" she asked, still watching the people below pushing and thrashing and colliding.

"Whenever he feels like it, I guess. Nick's supposed to make sure Bobby shows. I don't care one way or the other. I'm only here to make sure they don't do anything stupid if they come."

"Is that depression I sense, Paul?" Janet asked, turning back to face the lowered green eyes.

Davis laughed. "Oh, no. Just annoyance. I get sucked into this stuff more often than I prefer. But, Bobby's persistent and Keester can't say *no.* But, I worked hard to get this all set up, so I am partially responsible for making sure it works. I just wish Keester and Sutton could handle more of this on their own." He rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders.

"Hey, don't sweat it. Bobby'll go on tour again and you won't have to worry about him for six months," Sam attempted.

"I guess. I really want things to work for Bobby, but I also don't want him to do anything that might blow his cover."

"He won't." Sam glanced over her shoulder to see what had suddenly caught Janet's attention.

"Well, look what we have here," Janet stated.

Davis looked to the door. Bobby Talisman had made his entrance, Nick Keester bumbling behind him through the crowd of bouncers at the door, and what an entrance it was. The leather-clad musician stepped through the door, ran across the six-foot span to the railing, and leapt over it, landing effortlessly on the dance floor below.

"Just a bit flamboyant there, isn't he?" Janet asked.

"Maybe a little," Davis responded with a smile, "but then again, that's always been Bobby."