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"Well, that was that!" Sam said, closing the trunk of her car after they had loaded the gifts inside it.

They had bought gifts not just for Mark's children, but also for Mark and his wife. In addition, they had gotten two gifts for Jacob - with one of them in reality meant to be for Selmak.

Martouf had been very interested in the various stores, and had studied them all with fascination. While he had done so, Sam had taken opportunity to buy some gifts for him as well.

"I believe Selmak will be very pleased with the folding knife. The many different tools will be very useful on missions," Martouf said.

Sam smiled to herself. She had noticed Martouf's interest in the knife, and the fact that he had now mentioned it three times only confirmed that she had been right when she had bought one for him as well.

"So do I. So, you must be getting very hungry? I thought we should go and get something to eat before finding clothes and other stuff for you."

"Yes, I would very much like that. So would Lantash."

"Okay. I saw a place where you could get grilled sandwiches. Would you like that, or would you prefer something else?"

"Jacob has explained to us what sandwiches are. We have something similar among the Tok'ra - and on my homeplanet as well. We would both like to try the Tau'ri version."

"Good - and please don't talk about your homeplanet, or the Tok'ra," Sam said in a low voice, looking around to make sure no one was nearby and had heard them. "Say 'my country' and 'my people' instead."

"Of course." Martouf looked bashful. "I do apologize."

"No worries, no one else heard you. Come - let's go get that food!"

"All right, dig in!" Sam said, when the grilled sandwiches had been served.

They came with a side dish of french fries, and Martouf eyed them skeptically. "What are those?"

"Potatoes cut into strips and deep-fried in oil. Um, I don't know what you call potatoes, sorry. It's a tuber."

Martouf nodded. "We call them pah'pas, but Jacob has told me your name for them. Deep-fried in oil?" He frowned and carefully speared one of them with a fork and studied it. "Lantash think it looks, well, greasy."

"It is, and you shouldn't eat it very often. I usually never does, but I thought we could do it now when you're visiting," Sam said. "Try it!" She took a bite from her sandwich.

Martouf carefully bit the french fry in half, and slowly munched on it. "It is quite salty." He grinned. "Lantash complains it is also fatty, and unhealthy. He likes it though, even though he doesn't want to admit it." He grimaced.

"He's yelling at you?" Sam smiled broadly.

"Yes, quite loudly." Martouf smiled and ate the other half of the french fry, then picked up the knife and carefully cut the sandwich in half.

"You can eat it with your fingers. It's not so hot anymore and it's not considered bad manners for sandwiches. It's the same with some part of the chicken, french fries - and some other foods, actually. Just so you know."

"There is a rulebook for this?" He looked at the sandwich, clearly considering if it would be possible to eat it without the contents spilling from it.

Sam laughed. "In a way, though I don't think it's written down. It's also something that differs between cultures - I guess it's something you just need to know."

"And I don't. I hope I am not going to do something to embarrass you when we visit your brother's family." He picked up one half of the sandwich and took an experimental bite from it.

She smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure you'll do fine. Besides, we'll tell them you're a foreigner, so you can always use that as an excuse."

He nodded, swallowing the food before answering, "Thank you. The sandwich is good - it is some kind of fowl, with cheese, lettuce, and mushrooms of some kind, I think."

"Yes. Grilled chicken with cheddar cheese, lettuce, and sauteed mushrooms."

"We both like it." He took a drink from the orange juice he had gotten as well. "This is good too. Thank you for getting it for us." He smiled. "Samantha, Lantash and I would like to invite you to come with us to eat at a place we know. We both believe the food there will be to your liking."

"In your, uh, country?"


"Why not? It would be interesting," Sam said, after thinking about it for a moment. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Good. We will look forward to it."

They had finished their food, and Sam checked on the time as they left the small restaurant. "Great - it's only a little after three. It should hopefully be enough time to get the clothes and other things for you, and then get back to my place so I can pack a few things. We may even have time for a very quick dinner."

"Did not the transportation we are using leave late in the evening?"

"Yes, at 8:30PM, but it leaves from Denver, which is one hour away by car."

"Still, that should be plenty of time. Do you really expect it to take so long to find clothing for me?"

"A couple of hours at least. You need several changes of clothes - as well as warm clothes for here and lighter ones for San Diego... and some luggage to transport it in... oh, and various toiletries."

Martouf sighed. "I understand. We should get started, then."

"Come, the store over here should have much of what we are looking for."

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