Season: season 1
Series: Stargate SG-1
A drabble coda to "Enigma."
No dough, no foul.
Sam sat in the deserted multipurpose room, Narim's parting gift in her hand. Remembering the time she'd found him here, helplessly puzzled by his bed's accoutrements, she felt how pleased he was to see her. She had seen it then but brushed it off as gratitude for the books she'd brought him. Now she could feel his pure, unabashed joy at seeing Schroedinger, and it was like his joy in seeing her.
She wondered what it was like to always know how another person felt - to live without war, deceit, or isolation. What was it like to be an angel?