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Daniel/Sha're Drabbles & Micro Fiction

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Amaunet knows what love is; she has felt it in the strength of Apophis' embrace, in the possession of his kiss, and in the rumbling voice that declares, "Mine."

But when she closes her eyes, love is different. It is soft, too long, sandy-blond hair and wide blue eyes wearing glasses that goa'uld never need. It is a gentle hand stroking her cheek. Love is a tender voice whispering, "I'm coming for you."

Amaunet knows love. She pulls it from the mind of her host, worries it between her fingers, and knows that she'll never have it. Not like that.

Chapter Text

The soft, small hand on his face slowly pulls Daniel to consciousness. The sense-imagery overwhelms him—course sand, a warm tent, the powdery sent of yaffetta flour.

Sha're's soft features solidify as he blinks, the awakening sharp and sudden.

"My Daniel," she breathes.

He seizes her hand, pressing it to his lips: warm and soft, perfect and real and everything he remembers about Sha're.

"You've been asleep for a long time." There is meaning hidden in the curves of her smile. "It's time to wake up."

Daniel jerks between cold sheets, eyes opening to a digital clock and an empty bed.