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The sequel to Consequences.
New Lives, Part 1
The next day, Sam was in her lab when the “unscheduled offworld activation” claxon started up. She wasn’t on the flagship team anymore, and the Gateroom staff was very competent. If they needed her help, they’d call, but she wasn’t about to go running every time her boyfriend came back from a mission like some overgrown school-girl with a crush. And with limited hours again now that Jack was probably back, she couldn’t afford to lose any time.
***
Jack wandered down the hall, having just escaped the briefing room. He needed to see how Daniel was doing; this mission had been a doozy for him. But first, he hadn’t seen Sam in a couple of days. He had a sneaking suspicion that while he’d been gone she’d barricaded herself in her lab and worked way harder than she was supposed to. Her work ethic was incredible, but she needed to learn how to take care of herself.
The door to her lab was open, as always. He stuck his head in. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Sam replied distractedly, fiddling with something.
After a second, she glanced up at him and smiled. Was it just him, or did the room brighten up? Okay, that was a horrible cliché, but what the hell. Sam Carter’s smile really was at least 100-watt. Maybe more.
“How was the mission?” she asked, sitting back and rubbing her neck. And, yeah, she really did look like hell, smile not withstanding. On the other hand, if he brought up the subject of her work habits while he was gone, she’d probably kill him just on general principles.
“Oh, you know,” he said, picking up a—well, he wasn’t too sure what it was—from her desk and turning it over in his hands. “We came, we saw, Teal’c and I fought a mythical monster, Daniel destroyed a weapon meant to take Goa’uld out of their hosts, we left.”
“What? Why?”
Jack shrugged. “It had captured Teal’c and me. Teal’c couldn’t leave without it killing his symbiote, but he’d die without it. It was either destroy the weapon or leave him there in the cave it brought us to.”
“And you made Daniel destroy it?” She shook her head. “God, that must have been hard.”
“I didn’t make him destroy it,” Jack protested. “I gave him the staff weapon and told him it was his choice. Teal’c had already volunteered to stay there until we could either find a way for him to leave safely or until we brought Sha’re there and freed her.”
“And Daniel would never put his own personal feelings above someone else’s life,” Sam said, shaking her head, “and since we have no idea even where to find her…”
Jack shrugged. “Yeah. And if it was his decision, there’s less chance of him resenting me or Teal’c for it. Anyway, I haven’t had a chance to talk with him since we got back, I thought I’d check on him, see how he’s doing. Wanna come along?”
Sam paused, head tilted to one side. “Okay,” she said. “I just finished a group of tests, anyway.” She flipped a few switches and slid down from her stool.
Jack escorted her out the door. “And then, since it’s already a quarter to five, I figured we could head on out.”
Sam shook her head. “I want to get the data compiling in the computer before I go. It shouldn’t take long—twenty minutes, tops. I can catch a ride home with Janet, though.”
Jack thought about insisting on waiting for her, but figured she wanted to spend time with the only female friend she had, so far as he knew. Far be it from him to interrupt ‘girl talk.’ “Okay. Do we need any groceries, anything?”
“Just milk, I think.”
***
Daniel was sitting hunched over his desk, writing furiously away in a notebook of some kind when they reached his office. Sam figured it probably wasn’t his report—he’d use the computer for that. Did he keep a diary or something?
“Hey,” Jack said softly.
“Hey, Jack,” Daniel said without looking up.
“How are you … doing?” Jack said, shifting.
Daniel stopped writing, though he still didn’t look up. “I’m fine,” he said, seeming to find his pen infinitely more interesting than them.
“Sure?” Jack said.
Sam elbowed him in the side. “I’m really sorry, Daniel.”
“Yeah, so am I,” Daniel said, looking up at them for the first time. To Sam’s surprise, there were no tears in his eyes. But from his haunted look, maybe it would have been better if there were.
“Look, you wanna come over to our house tonight?” Jack asked. “Maybe have a beer, maybe crash in the spare room. Watch the Simpsons.”
“Isn’t the spare room still full of boxes?” Daniel asked.
“No, it’s cleaned out and packed away,” Sam said, fighting down a twinge of annoyance that she knew wasn’t pure selfishness. Jack’s first night back and he was inviting Daniel to come on over and camp out, including beer that Daniel didn’t like but she couldn’t have because of the pregnancy. Daniel looked pretty out of it, and if that helped, she could live with it.
Daniel considered it for a moment, glancing between them. Sam hoped he hadn’t picked up on her first reaction. “No,” he said. “Thanks, but I kind of want to be alone, right now. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Jack said, nodding.
“You never know,” Sam said. “Maybe we’ll find the race who created that weapon and they can build another one for us, or take Amaunet out a different way.”
“Maybe,” Daniel said, going back to his notebook.
***
Jack noticed a car parked in the road with a man in it. The car was generic but relatively new; the guy was in civvies, a bit older than Jack. He seemed to be reading a book of some kind. Maybe waiting for someone; he didn’t look too suspicious, but maybe Jack should keep an eye out. Jack pulled his truck into his driveway and grabbed the milk. He glowered at the garage—that was going to be the next project, Sam said. She wanted it cleared of boxes and organized enough so she could at least put her Volvo in it, and possibly his truck as well. Jack had no clue what all was in there; it was filled with a combination of stuff left over from the minor renovation he’d done when he bought the place and yet more boxes from his life with Sara that he’d never bothered to unpack. Truth be known, he hadn’t packed them in the first place, either—Sara had taken care of that. Jack hated packing, and unpacking was even worse.
He set the milk jugs down on the step and fumbled with his keys. That was the other thing. Sam insisted on keeping the door locked when they weren’t there, which was so much more hassle. He opened the door and picked up the milk again.
“Excuse me.”
Jack turned around to see the guy from the parked car standing there. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“I thought Sam Carter lived here,” the man said with a frown. He was several inches shorter than Jack and balding, and he carried himself well despite a slight middle-aged spread.
“She does,” Jack said. “In fact, she’s supposed to get here in a couple of minutes. Wanna come in and wait?”
The guy looked him up and down before nodding. “Sure,” he said, still studying Jack with a hint of suspicion. Jack wasn’t sure why; after all, Jack was the one inviting a stranger into his house, not the other guy.
Jack headed into the house. The guy followed, closing the door behind them. Jack put the milk in the fridge. Sam must have gone shopping while he was gone, because it was fuller than he remembered. He rearranged stuff to make room for the milk. It was a pretty small fridge; with the two of them in the house and a baby on the way, maybe they should get a bigger one.
“You gonna tell me who you are?” the guy said as he finished.
Jack raised an eyebrow. Considering it was his house and the other guy hadn’t introduced himself, either, that was a pretty belligerent tone. “Jack O’Neill. With two ‘l’s.” He turned to face the guy more directly, arms crossed. “And you are?”
His question was ignored. “Colonel Jack O’Neill? Air Force, Cheyenne Mountain, Project Blue Book?” The guy looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, sourness and outrage warring for control of his face.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Jack said. “And again. You are?”
They were interrupted by the door opening. “Honey, I’m home,” Sam chirped, sounding much more cheerful than she had on base. “Guess what! I think I might have felt the baby move!”
Movement caught Jack’s eye, and he turned back to the stranger just in time to see a fist swinging towards his face, too late to do anything about it. He was knocked to the floor, hitting his head on the fridge as he went down.
“Dad!”
Oh, crap.
***
Sam watched in horror as her Jack went down. “Why the hell did you do that?” she demanded as she hurried over and crouched down by Jack, who was sitting up and rubbing his head.
“He’s your goddamn CO!” Dad said, in the tone of voice he used to dress down wayward lieutenants who had screwed up especially spectacularly. “We don’t talk for a couple months, you don’t tell me why you want to see me, I get out here and find out you’ve sublet your apartment. A call to George gets me your current address, and I get here to find you’re not only shacked up with your CO, he’s knocked you up! How the hell did you think I was going to react?”
Oh, boy. “First of all, he’s not my CO any more. I was reassigned to another part of the base before the relationship started. Which I know you know because I told you.”
“How long before? Two days? Sam, you haven’t been here long enough to get reassigned unless George had a damned good reason. And if you’re pregnant enough to feel the baby already—”
“There were extenuating circumstances. You can ask General Hammond, if you don’t believe me,” Sam said through gritted teeth. “Second, if you’d called ahead to say when you were going to be here, I’d have picked you up at the airport. Third, the reason I didn’t tell you is because I wanted to tell you in person that you were going to be a grandfather again, instead of over the phone.” She turned back to Jack. “You okay?”
“Just peachy,” Jack said. “So, that’s Dad, huh?” He climbed to his feet, and Sam winced as she heard his knee pop. “Pleased to meet you.” His voice was heavy with irony as he stuck his hand out. “Jack O’Neill.”
“Jack,” Sam said in exasperation. There was no need to annoy Dad further.
“Major General Jacob Carter,” Dad said, glowering at him. But he did shake his hand, which was a good sign. “So, when are you two getting married?”
Jack opened his mouth.
“At this point,” Sam cut him off; she couldn’t trust him not to antagonize Dad, “we’re not planning on it. Which was my decision.”
Dad glared at her. He probably wanted to blame Jack for corrupting his beloved daughter; having said daughter take firm credit for not even being engaged with a baby on the way wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “So, just what are your plans?”
“Well,” Sam said before Jack could open his mouth, “right now we’re living together. If, after we’ve lived together for a while, we get along well, we may get married. If not, I’ll move out. Either way, we’re not going to rush into anything permanent. While we’re exploring our relationship, we’re getting ready for the baby. And letting family know, which is why you’re here.” She crossed her arms. “So, now that you’re here and you know, are you going to be civil and polite and get to know the father of your grandbaby, or am I going to have to ask you to leave until you cool down?”
Dad glared at Jack. “I’ll behave.”
Sam nodded firmly. “Good. Now, I’m hungry, and I want dinner. Are we going to stay here and cook something or go out to eat?”
“I don’t care,” Dad said.
“I could whip something up,” Jack said, “give you two time to talk.”
“Are you sure, Jack?” Sam asked. “You just got back a couple hours ago.” Even more importantly, if they were in a public place such as a restaurant Dad might feel less willing to blow his top.
“I got it,” Jack said. He gave her a quick kiss. “Go talk with your Dad.”
Sam smiled at him. She’d just have to rely on the two men to keep their tempers. Could this go any worse? “Thanks.” She turned back to Dad and gestured to the door to the hall. “Why don’t I give you a quick tour and then we can settle down in the living room?”
“Sure,” Dad said, gesturing for her to lead the way.
***
“So, pregnant, huh,” Dad said as soon as they were out of earshot. “You know what that can do to your career. Particularly if you want to go into space.”
Sam counted to ten before answering. She knew, better than Dad ever could, just exactly what this pregnancy had taken from her. “Yes, Dad, I know,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. The last thing she needed was to give Dad ammunition to use against Jack.
“I just hope he’s worth it,” Dad continued. “That the baby’s worth it. You’ve never exactly been the maternal type, you know, and I wouldn’t want you giving up the things you love for something you’ve never really cared that much about. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to be a grandfather. But I want you to be happy, too.”
“I know, Dad,” Sam said, sitting down on the bed. She ran a hand through her hair. God, she wished Dad could make up his mind. When she focused on her career he fussed over her lack of a personal life. When she had a personal life, he criticized how it would impact her career. “Anyway, even if I didn’t want the baby, it’s a little late to start thinking about that.”
“Yeah,” Dad said, sitting down next to her. “Obviously, for the next year or so, you’re kind of stuck here. But after that … whatever it is you do in that mountain, deep space or no deep space, it can't be as exciting as the real thing. I'm talking about getting you into NASA, Sam. I'm talking about you actually going to space one day. It’d be more difficult with a kid, but you can do anything you put your mind to.”
“What?” Sam asked, heart sinking. Oh, no. No. He wouldn’t. He knew how she felt.
“You know Bollinger’s an old friend of mine. Head of NASA? Sound familiar?”
“Please don’t let this be going where I think it is, Dad,” Sam said.
He ignored her. “I’ve been talking with him about you. I told him you’ve wanted to be an astronaut since you were a little girl. And that you’d given up—”
“I didn’t give up!”
“Let me finish,” Dad said, nudging her. “Given up waiting for the shuttle program to be reinstated after the Challenger disaster.”
“Yeah, it was bad timing.” Now was even worse timing—how could going up to Earth orbit on a shuttle ever compare with going to other planets through a wormhole? But she couldn’t exactly tell Dad that. She tried to unclench her jaw.
“Yes, well, Bollinger’s not the only guy I know at NASA,” Dad went on, either oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm or trying hard to look that way. “I could talk to some people. You apply again, as an Air Force nominee, young lady, and I think you'll find NASA supportive.”
“There’s a waiting list a mile long.” Sam crossed her arms over her chest.
“Not for you.”
“Dad, you can’t do that!” Sam said, holding on to her temper as firmly as she knew how. “I have never wanted you to interfere in my career. I want to earn my place, not get there because I’m General Carter’s daughter. And you know that because I’ve asked you not to do stuff like this in the past!” Which was both true and the only one of her reasons she could tell Dad about why she didn’t want NASA.
“You're telling me you don't want this?” And now Dad’s temper was starting to show, too. “They know what you're capable of offering the Space Program, Samantha, they want you!”
“That's not the point!” Sam pushed herself up and started pacing, trying to think of any way she could to get through to him. “The work I am doing right now is very important to me. And I got here on my merits, not yours.”
“It's not your dream.” Dad watched her, frowning. “Is this about him? That black ops nutcase you’re shacked up with?”
“Nutcase?” Sam snorted. “You don’t even know him. And in case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one who hit him, not the other way around. I wouldn’t throw stones if I were you.”
Dad ignored that outright. “I read his file and asked around when you were stationed here, and I didn’t like what I heard. He’s been in black ops almost his entire career, doing the kind of stuff nobody admits to even decades later. He’s insubordinate, a loose cannon. After the hell Jonas put you through, you hook up with another guy from the lunatic fringe?”
“He is nothing like Jonas,” Sam growled, giving up any pretense of courtesy. “And he’s going to be a permanent fixture in my life from now on, whether you like him or not. He’s also going to be a permanent fixture in the life of your grandchild, so I’d suggest you keep that in mind. You want to know what kind of man he is? Get off your damned high horse and get to know him. At the very least, talk with General Hammond. He knows what kind of a man Jack is, and I know you trust his judgment. Do you honestly think George Hammond would have a man like Jonas as his second in command?”
Dad shook his head. “Sam, George is only marking time until retirement. He’s got another year to go, on the outside, before they put him out to pasture. Why bother rocking the boat?”
“Things change, Dad,” Sam said. “General Hammond won’t be retiring any time soon. You can ask him if you don’t believe me. And he is most definitely not marking time.” The very idea was ridiculous, even if he had been on the brink of retirement. And now that he was in charge of a front-line base—he’d gone to bat for his people all the way on up to the President, when needed. Even for Teal’c, who’d been an unknown alien at the time. He’d moved heaven and Earth to keep him not just out of the hands of the government’s research facilities (though with Teal’c’s permission, they were doing some limited research on him in the SGC under the watchful eyes of Janet), but on a front-line team. Sam shook her head.
“I don’t care if he’s some kind of saint, Sam,” Dad said, changing his tactics. “I don’t want you to have to give up your dreams because of him.”
“I’m not,” Sam said, ignoring the fact that it was a lie, just not in the way Dad thought it was. She shoved down all thoughts of her old spot on the top Stargate team. If Dad sensed any weakness or hesitation, he’d use it. “But my dreams have changed, Dad.”
“So, now your dream is to sit at the bottom of a mountain and, what, analyze radar signals?” Dad looked at her, both eyebrows raised.
“I love my job,” Sam said. She knew her folded arms looked defensive, but dropping them now would be more suspicious.
“Hey.” Jack poked his head around the door, and Sam didn’t know whether to kiss him for it or swear. “I got burgers and salad ready.”
“Thanks,” she said.
Dad shot her a look that said this wasn’t over as he stalked out to the kitchen.
***
“So, General Carter,” Jack said as they sat down to dinner. “I've heard nothing about you, Sir. Well, aside from the fact that you helped Sam build model rockets when she was ten. And that thing with the practical joke when she was twelve.” Sam was giving him a Look that he hadn’t seen her use before, but which was remarkably similar to one of Sara’s. It meant be quiet or there will be dire consequences. He shut up.
General Carter dished himself some salad as if it was a … sensitive part of Jack’s anatomy he was trying to dismember. “What's there to say about an old general waiting to retire?”
“Dad, I talk about you all the time,” Sam said in a soothing tone of voice.
“I retired myself one time,” Jack said, trying for some common ground. He wished Daniel were here; Daniel was good at small talk. “Couldn't stay away.”
Sam’s dad raised a cool eyebrow. “From your analysis of deep space radar telemetry,” he said flatly.
Crap. “Well, it's just so damn fascinating.”
“I'm sure it is.” Carter, Sr. passed the salad to his daughter. “Otherwise Sammy here wouldn’t prefer being stuck under a mountain to being in NASA. Because I’m sure that she would never let her personal life get in the way of her career.”
“We have our moments.” Jack gave him the most sincere smile he could. NASA? Her Dad was trying to get her in to NASA? Ouch. The SGC was so much cooler, but it wasn’t like she could tell the old man that without clearance, which she was not likely to get. He tried to give her a sympathetic look, but she didn’t notice it because she was too busy glaring at her Dad.
“As I told you earlier,” she said through gritted teeth, “I love my job. Even if Jack and the baby didn’t exist, that would not change. I would still tell you to mind your own damn business.”
“At least talk to them, then. Do that much for me.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “I knew sooner or later you'd make this about you.”
Ooh. This was like the World Wrestling Federation, only a lot more painful. There was a kind of horrifying fascination to it. “I’m sure Sam can figure out what she wants to do with her career on her own. Thanks for the advice, sir. Sam, I’m sure he means well.” He tried to be as … soothing as he could. Sara had always complained about his lack of tact, but even he realized that both Carters needed to cool down some. He tried to think back—had his first meeting with Sara’s father been this bad? He didn’t think so.
“And I’m sure you’ve got Sam’s career as your top priority,” General Carter said. “What with knocking her up and shacking up with her the second she left your command. That’ll really look good on her record. And I’m sure you’re not influencing her to throw away all her dreams of space at all.”
“Excuse me?” Jack raised his eyebrows. “We talking about the same Sam Carter? Can beat tribal leaders in knife fights, likes to blow stuff up, most brilliant scientist in the free world, takes no crap from anybody? That Sam Carter? She’d have my ass if I tried to tell her what to do. And if you think otherwise, maybe you don’t know your daughter as well as you think you do, General. And maybe that’s the problem, here.” Okay, so it wasn’t diplomatic, but the guy was really starting to piss him off.
“Knife fights? You got my little girl into knife fights? What kind of team do you lead, mister? Deep Space Radar Telemetry my ass.”
Jack froze. Crap.
“Dad, drop it,” Sam said, a note of command in her voice that Jack couldn’t remember hearing before.
“Just between us, your cover stories could use a little polish.” And maybe General Carter really didn’t know his daughter as well as he thought he did, because Jack sure as hell wouldn’t have pushed her. Not with that expression on her face.
“Sorry, Dad, I don't know what you're talking about.” Her voice was arctic.
Her father paused, and really looked at her for the first time since they’d sat down to eat. “No, of course not, I'm out of line.” He nodded, slowly. “I’m sorry. You know I only want what’s best for you. But it’s your life and your career, of course.”
He turned to his dinner, attacking it single-mindedly.
“Apology accepted, Dad,” Sam said, her voice thawing a little.
Well. Round One to Carter, Junior. And he wasn’t about to break the truce by opening his big fat mouth again any time soon. No, sirree. Momma O’Neill didn’t raise geniuses, but she didn’t raise idiots, either.
***
Sam concentrated on her meal, ignoring the looks Dad was shooting her, as she tried to figure out something to talk about that wouldn’t result in another fight. Jack wasn’t being much help, for which she could only be grateful given his capacity to say the wrong thing. She usually found his big mouth and, to put it tactfully, directness, to be endearing (or at least amusing). Tonight? Not so much. This was why she’d wanted to break the news to Dad without him there. On the other hand … Dad was pretty good at being an ass himself, when he wanted to be. As he was proving tonight.
She hadn’t really noticed before how much alike the two were. It was … kind of scary, actually.
She set that thought aside for later consideration. “So, Dad, will you be staying with us or in a hotel?”
“I’m already checked in to the Holiday Inn downtown. The last I heard from you, you only had a one-bedroom apartment, and I didn’t want to get stuck on the couch.”
“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” she asked.
“Actually, I do,” Dad said. “Unless you’ve got time off and had something in mind?”
Sam shook her head.
“Well, when I got your address from George, he said he could take tomorrow off and take me golfing.”
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy catching up with everything that’s happened since you two were stationed together,” Sam said, fixing herself another hamburger. “And maybe he can give you his perspective on recent events.”
Dad put down his fork. “Sam, if you can look me straight in the eye and tell you there was no unprofessional conduct of any kind between you and him,” he jerked his thumb at Jack, “before you were transferred off his team, and that there’s nothing that can cause you professional trouble down the line, I won’t have to ask him.”
Damn it. Damn it. She’d never been able to lie to him, or even mislead him, about the things that really mattered. “There isn’t anything.”
There was a moment of silence while Dad studied her. “Right.” He went back to his dinner.
“Dad,” she said desperately, trying to think of something to say. She stared down at her plate, trying to control her emotions, damning the pregnancy hormones that magnified every feeling. “Excuse me,” she said, climbing to her feet and heading out as quickly as she could without running.
“Way to go, Dad,” she heard Jack say behind her.
“Sam—” Dad said.
She ignored them both, heading to her—their—bedroom, closing the door behind her and curling up on the bed as she fought for control.
Someone knocked at the door, gently. She ignored it; she didn’t have the strength to deal with either man now without falling apart. The door opened anyway; she didn’t turn to see who it was, annoyed at the invasion of her privacy and hoping he’d just go away.
Instead, she felt a hand on her back, rubbing gently. “Hey,” Jack said. “C’mere.” He turned her around so she fit against him better and wrapped his arms around her. Needing the comfort, Sam hugged him back and let the tears come.
***
Jack rubbed her back slowly as she cried on his shoulder; he knew her well enough to figure she was probably embarrassed with how she’d broken down emotionally. He didn’t really know what to say that wouldn’t make it worse, so he stayed quiet. Sam was enough of a talker that if she had something to say, she’d let it out. Not like him, that way. Jack was more prone to hold things in until they ate him up inside. It kept you going on long missions, kept your guard up all the time, but as a life strategy it … had its drawbacks. It had cost him his marriage to Sara, in the end, and almost killed Daniel, Ska’ara, Sha’re and everyone else on Abydos, including him.
After a few minutes she swiped a hand across her eyes to wipe away the tears. “I’m sorry, Jack.” She hadn’t sat up, so he couldn’t see her face, but she wasn’t clinging as hard.
“No, it’s fine,” Jack said. “Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on, sometimes. I’m just glad I can be yours.”
“It’s these stupid hormones,” Sam went on. “I’m not usually like this, I swear.”
“Even more reason to indulge you now.”
“It’s just … I can stand having Dad angry at me. God knows it’s happened before. But the idea,” Sam swallowed, and he could feel her start to tremble a little, “of him being disappointed or ashamed …”
“Yeah,” Jack said, when she didn’t continue. He’d taken a bit of pleasure, over the years, in setting his dad off. His mother was a whole different story, though.
“And we can’t tell him anything,” Sam went on. “It’s not my fault, I didn’t do anything wrong, but there’s nothing I can say to him that would convince him because everything is classified. And the deal with NASA—God, if I didn’t have the SGC, and he offered me that? Except I don’t even have the Stargate anymore. All I do is sit in a lab and analyze the stuff that other people have brought back. I might as well be in Area 52! They wanted me there, they said that top scientists don’t belong in the field, but I asked Hammond and he brought me in. And I was good at being a field officer, it was everything I’d ever dreamed, but because of that fucking virus I’m grounded and my Dad thinks I’m some stupid bimbo who can’t keep her pants on and was caught with her CO! And if I ever come before a promotions board that doesn’t know about the SGC, or doesn’t care, that’s what they’re going to think, too.”
Jack just kept rubbing her back. It was the only thing he could do.
Part 3
New Lives, Part 1
The next day, Sam was in her lab when the “unscheduled offworld activation” claxon started up. She wasn’t on the flagship team anymore, and the Gateroom staff was very competent. If they needed her help, they’d call, but she wasn’t about to go running every time her boyfriend came back from a mission like some overgrown school-girl with a crush. And with limited hours again now that Jack was probably back, she couldn’t afford to lose any time.
***
Jack wandered down the hall, having just escaped the briefing room. He needed to see how Daniel was doing; this mission had been a doozy for him. But first, he hadn’t seen Sam in a couple of days. He had a sneaking suspicion that while he’d been gone she’d barricaded herself in her lab and worked way harder than she was supposed to. Her work ethic was incredible, but she needed to learn how to take care of herself.
The door to her lab was open, as always. He stuck his head in. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Sam replied distractedly, fiddling with something.
After a second, she glanced up at him and smiled. Was it just him, or did the room brighten up? Okay, that was a horrible cliché, but what the hell. Sam Carter’s smile really was at least 100-watt. Maybe more.
“How was the mission?” she asked, sitting back and rubbing her neck. And, yeah, she really did look like hell, smile not withstanding. On the other hand, if he brought up the subject of her work habits while he was gone, she’d probably kill him just on general principles.
“Oh, you know,” he said, picking up a—well, he wasn’t too sure what it was—from her desk and turning it over in his hands. “We came, we saw, Teal’c and I fought a mythical monster, Daniel destroyed a weapon meant to take Goa’uld out of their hosts, we left.”
“What? Why?”
Jack shrugged. “It had captured Teal’c and me. Teal’c couldn’t leave without it killing his symbiote, but he’d die without it. It was either destroy the weapon or leave him there in the cave it brought us to.”
“And you made Daniel destroy it?” She shook her head. “God, that must have been hard.”
“I didn’t make him destroy it,” Jack protested. “I gave him the staff weapon and told him it was his choice. Teal’c had already volunteered to stay there until we could either find a way for him to leave safely or until we brought Sha’re there and freed her.”
“And Daniel would never put his own personal feelings above someone else’s life,” Sam said, shaking her head, “and since we have no idea even where to find her…”
Jack shrugged. “Yeah. And if it was his decision, there’s less chance of him resenting me or Teal’c for it. Anyway, I haven’t had a chance to talk with him since we got back, I thought I’d check on him, see how he’s doing. Wanna come along?”
Sam paused, head tilted to one side. “Okay,” she said. “I just finished a group of tests, anyway.” She flipped a few switches and slid down from her stool.
Jack escorted her out the door. “And then, since it’s already a quarter to five, I figured we could head on out.”
Sam shook her head. “I want to get the data compiling in the computer before I go. It shouldn’t take long—twenty minutes, tops. I can catch a ride home with Janet, though.”
Jack thought about insisting on waiting for her, but figured she wanted to spend time with the only female friend she had, so far as he knew. Far be it from him to interrupt ‘girl talk.’ “Okay. Do we need any groceries, anything?”
“Just milk, I think.”
***
Daniel was sitting hunched over his desk, writing furiously away in a notebook of some kind when they reached his office. Sam figured it probably wasn’t his report—he’d use the computer for that. Did he keep a diary or something?
“Hey,” Jack said softly.
“Hey, Jack,” Daniel said without looking up.
“How are you … doing?” Jack said, shifting.
Daniel stopped writing, though he still didn’t look up. “I’m fine,” he said, seeming to find his pen infinitely more interesting than them.
“Sure?” Jack said.
Sam elbowed him in the side. “I’m really sorry, Daniel.”
“Yeah, so am I,” Daniel said, looking up at them for the first time. To Sam’s surprise, there were no tears in his eyes. But from his haunted look, maybe it would have been better if there were.
“Look, you wanna come over to our house tonight?” Jack asked. “Maybe have a beer, maybe crash in the spare room. Watch the Simpsons.”
“Isn’t the spare room still full of boxes?” Daniel asked.
“No, it’s cleaned out and packed away,” Sam said, fighting down a twinge of annoyance that she knew wasn’t pure selfishness. Jack’s first night back and he was inviting Daniel to come on over and camp out, including beer that Daniel didn’t like but she couldn’t have because of the pregnancy. Daniel looked pretty out of it, and if that helped, she could live with it.
Daniel considered it for a moment, glancing between them. Sam hoped he hadn’t picked up on her first reaction. “No,” he said. “Thanks, but I kind of want to be alone, right now. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Jack said, nodding.
“You never know,” Sam said. “Maybe we’ll find the race who created that weapon and they can build another one for us, or take Amaunet out a different way.”
“Maybe,” Daniel said, going back to his notebook.
***
Jack noticed a car parked in the road with a man in it. The car was generic but relatively new; the guy was in civvies, a bit older than Jack. He seemed to be reading a book of some kind. Maybe waiting for someone; he didn’t look too suspicious, but maybe Jack should keep an eye out. Jack pulled his truck into his driveway and grabbed the milk. He glowered at the garage—that was going to be the next project, Sam said. She wanted it cleared of boxes and organized enough so she could at least put her Volvo in it, and possibly his truck as well. Jack had no clue what all was in there; it was filled with a combination of stuff left over from the minor renovation he’d done when he bought the place and yet more boxes from his life with Sara that he’d never bothered to unpack. Truth be known, he hadn’t packed them in the first place, either—Sara had taken care of that. Jack hated packing, and unpacking was even worse.
He set the milk jugs down on the step and fumbled with his keys. That was the other thing. Sam insisted on keeping the door locked when they weren’t there, which was so much more hassle. He opened the door and picked up the milk again.
“Excuse me.”
Jack turned around to see the guy from the parked car standing there. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“I thought Sam Carter lived here,” the man said with a frown. He was several inches shorter than Jack and balding, and he carried himself well despite a slight middle-aged spread.
“She does,” Jack said. “In fact, she’s supposed to get here in a couple of minutes. Wanna come in and wait?”
The guy looked him up and down before nodding. “Sure,” he said, still studying Jack with a hint of suspicion. Jack wasn’t sure why; after all, Jack was the one inviting a stranger into his house, not the other guy.
Jack headed into the house. The guy followed, closing the door behind them. Jack put the milk in the fridge. Sam must have gone shopping while he was gone, because it was fuller than he remembered. He rearranged stuff to make room for the milk. It was a pretty small fridge; with the two of them in the house and a baby on the way, maybe they should get a bigger one.
“You gonna tell me who you are?” the guy said as he finished.
Jack raised an eyebrow. Considering it was his house and the other guy hadn’t introduced himself, either, that was a pretty belligerent tone. “Jack O’Neill. With two ‘l’s.” He turned to face the guy more directly, arms crossed. “And you are?”
His question was ignored. “Colonel Jack O’Neill? Air Force, Cheyenne Mountain, Project Blue Book?” The guy looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, sourness and outrage warring for control of his face.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Jack said. “And again. You are?”
They were interrupted by the door opening. “Honey, I’m home,” Sam chirped, sounding much more cheerful than she had on base. “Guess what! I think I might have felt the baby move!”
Movement caught Jack’s eye, and he turned back to the stranger just in time to see a fist swinging towards his face, too late to do anything about it. He was knocked to the floor, hitting his head on the fridge as he went down.
“Dad!”
Oh, crap.
***
Sam watched in horror as her Jack went down. “Why the hell did you do that?” she demanded as she hurried over and crouched down by Jack, who was sitting up and rubbing his head.
“He’s your goddamn CO!” Dad said, in the tone of voice he used to dress down wayward lieutenants who had screwed up especially spectacularly. “We don’t talk for a couple months, you don’t tell me why you want to see me, I get out here and find out you’ve sublet your apartment. A call to George gets me your current address, and I get here to find you’re not only shacked up with your CO, he’s knocked you up! How the hell did you think I was going to react?”
Oh, boy. “First of all, he’s not my CO any more. I was reassigned to another part of the base before the relationship started. Which I know you know because I told you.”
“How long before? Two days? Sam, you haven’t been here long enough to get reassigned unless George had a damned good reason. And if you’re pregnant enough to feel the baby already—”
“There were extenuating circumstances. You can ask General Hammond, if you don’t believe me,” Sam said through gritted teeth. “Second, if you’d called ahead to say when you were going to be here, I’d have picked you up at the airport. Third, the reason I didn’t tell you is because I wanted to tell you in person that you were going to be a grandfather again, instead of over the phone.” She turned back to Jack. “You okay?”
“Just peachy,” Jack said. “So, that’s Dad, huh?” He climbed to his feet, and Sam winced as she heard his knee pop. “Pleased to meet you.” His voice was heavy with irony as he stuck his hand out. “Jack O’Neill.”
“Jack,” Sam said in exasperation. There was no need to annoy Dad further.
“Major General Jacob Carter,” Dad said, glowering at him. But he did shake his hand, which was a good sign. “So, when are you two getting married?”
Jack opened his mouth.
“At this point,” Sam cut him off; she couldn’t trust him not to antagonize Dad, “we’re not planning on it. Which was my decision.”
Dad glared at her. He probably wanted to blame Jack for corrupting his beloved daughter; having said daughter take firm credit for not even being engaged with a baby on the way wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “So, just what are your plans?”
“Well,” Sam said before Jack could open his mouth, “right now we’re living together. If, after we’ve lived together for a while, we get along well, we may get married. If not, I’ll move out. Either way, we’re not going to rush into anything permanent. While we’re exploring our relationship, we’re getting ready for the baby. And letting family know, which is why you’re here.” She crossed her arms. “So, now that you’re here and you know, are you going to be civil and polite and get to know the father of your grandbaby, or am I going to have to ask you to leave until you cool down?”
Dad glared at Jack. “I’ll behave.”
Sam nodded firmly. “Good. Now, I’m hungry, and I want dinner. Are we going to stay here and cook something or go out to eat?”
“I don’t care,” Dad said.
“I could whip something up,” Jack said, “give you two time to talk.”
“Are you sure, Jack?” Sam asked. “You just got back a couple hours ago.” Even more importantly, if they were in a public place such as a restaurant Dad might feel less willing to blow his top.
“I got it,” Jack said. He gave her a quick kiss. “Go talk with your Dad.”
Sam smiled at him. She’d just have to rely on the two men to keep their tempers. Could this go any worse? “Thanks.” She turned back to Dad and gestured to the door to the hall. “Why don’t I give you a quick tour and then we can settle down in the living room?”
“Sure,” Dad said, gesturing for her to lead the way.
***
“So, pregnant, huh,” Dad said as soon as they were out of earshot. “You know what that can do to your career. Particularly if you want to go into space.”
Sam counted to ten before answering. She knew, better than Dad ever could, just exactly what this pregnancy had taken from her. “Yes, Dad, I know,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. The last thing she needed was to give Dad ammunition to use against Jack.
“I just hope he’s worth it,” Dad continued. “That the baby’s worth it. You’ve never exactly been the maternal type, you know, and I wouldn’t want you giving up the things you love for something you’ve never really cared that much about. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to be a grandfather. But I want you to be happy, too.”
“I know, Dad,” Sam said, sitting down on the bed. She ran a hand through her hair. God, she wished Dad could make up his mind. When she focused on her career he fussed over her lack of a personal life. When she had a personal life, he criticized how it would impact her career. “Anyway, even if I didn’t want the baby, it’s a little late to start thinking about that.”
“Yeah,” Dad said, sitting down next to her. “Obviously, for the next year or so, you’re kind of stuck here. But after that … whatever it is you do in that mountain, deep space or no deep space, it can't be as exciting as the real thing. I'm talking about getting you into NASA, Sam. I'm talking about you actually going to space one day. It’d be more difficult with a kid, but you can do anything you put your mind to.”
“What?” Sam asked, heart sinking. Oh, no. No. He wouldn’t. He knew how she felt.
“You know Bollinger’s an old friend of mine. Head of NASA? Sound familiar?”
“Please don’t let this be going where I think it is, Dad,” Sam said.
He ignored her. “I’ve been talking with him about you. I told him you’ve wanted to be an astronaut since you were a little girl. And that you’d given up—”
“I didn’t give up!”
“Let me finish,” Dad said, nudging her. “Given up waiting for the shuttle program to be reinstated after the Challenger disaster.”
“Yeah, it was bad timing.” Now was even worse timing—how could going up to Earth orbit on a shuttle ever compare with going to other planets through a wormhole? But she couldn’t exactly tell Dad that. She tried to unclench her jaw.
“Yes, well, Bollinger’s not the only guy I know at NASA,” Dad went on, either oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm or trying hard to look that way. “I could talk to some people. You apply again, as an Air Force nominee, young lady, and I think you'll find NASA supportive.”
“There’s a waiting list a mile long.” Sam crossed her arms over her chest.
“Not for you.”
“Dad, you can’t do that!” Sam said, holding on to her temper as firmly as she knew how. “I have never wanted you to interfere in my career. I want to earn my place, not get there because I’m General Carter’s daughter. And you know that because I’ve asked you not to do stuff like this in the past!” Which was both true and the only one of her reasons she could tell Dad about why she didn’t want NASA.
“You're telling me you don't want this?” And now Dad’s temper was starting to show, too. “They know what you're capable of offering the Space Program, Samantha, they want you!”
“That's not the point!” Sam pushed herself up and started pacing, trying to think of any way she could to get through to him. “The work I am doing right now is very important to me. And I got here on my merits, not yours.”
“It's not your dream.” Dad watched her, frowning. “Is this about him? That black ops nutcase you’re shacked up with?”
“Nutcase?” Sam snorted. “You don’t even know him. And in case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one who hit him, not the other way around. I wouldn’t throw stones if I were you.”
Dad ignored that outright. “I read his file and asked around when you were stationed here, and I didn’t like what I heard. He’s been in black ops almost his entire career, doing the kind of stuff nobody admits to even decades later. He’s insubordinate, a loose cannon. After the hell Jonas put you through, you hook up with another guy from the lunatic fringe?”
“He is nothing like Jonas,” Sam growled, giving up any pretense of courtesy. “And he’s going to be a permanent fixture in my life from now on, whether you like him or not. He’s also going to be a permanent fixture in the life of your grandchild, so I’d suggest you keep that in mind. You want to know what kind of man he is? Get off your damned high horse and get to know him. At the very least, talk with General Hammond. He knows what kind of a man Jack is, and I know you trust his judgment. Do you honestly think George Hammond would have a man like Jonas as his second in command?”
Dad shook his head. “Sam, George is only marking time until retirement. He’s got another year to go, on the outside, before they put him out to pasture. Why bother rocking the boat?”
“Things change, Dad,” Sam said. “General Hammond won’t be retiring any time soon. You can ask him if you don’t believe me. And he is most definitely not marking time.” The very idea was ridiculous, even if he had been on the brink of retirement. And now that he was in charge of a front-line base—he’d gone to bat for his people all the way on up to the President, when needed. Even for Teal’c, who’d been an unknown alien at the time. He’d moved heaven and Earth to keep him not just out of the hands of the government’s research facilities (though with Teal’c’s permission, they were doing some limited research on him in the SGC under the watchful eyes of Janet), but on a front-line team. Sam shook her head.
“I don’t care if he’s some kind of saint, Sam,” Dad said, changing his tactics. “I don’t want you to have to give up your dreams because of him.”
“I’m not,” Sam said, ignoring the fact that it was a lie, just not in the way Dad thought it was. She shoved down all thoughts of her old spot on the top Stargate team. If Dad sensed any weakness or hesitation, he’d use it. “But my dreams have changed, Dad.”
“So, now your dream is to sit at the bottom of a mountain and, what, analyze radar signals?” Dad looked at her, both eyebrows raised.
“I love my job,” Sam said. She knew her folded arms looked defensive, but dropping them now would be more suspicious.
“Hey.” Jack poked his head around the door, and Sam didn’t know whether to kiss him for it or swear. “I got burgers and salad ready.”
“Thanks,” she said.
Dad shot her a look that said this wasn’t over as he stalked out to the kitchen.
***
“So, General Carter,” Jack said as they sat down to dinner. “I've heard nothing about you, Sir. Well, aside from the fact that you helped Sam build model rockets when she was ten. And that thing with the practical joke when she was twelve.” Sam was giving him a Look that he hadn’t seen her use before, but which was remarkably similar to one of Sara’s. It meant be quiet or there will be dire consequences. He shut up.
General Carter dished himself some salad as if it was a … sensitive part of Jack’s anatomy he was trying to dismember. “What's there to say about an old general waiting to retire?”
“Dad, I talk about you all the time,” Sam said in a soothing tone of voice.
“I retired myself one time,” Jack said, trying for some common ground. He wished Daniel were here; Daniel was good at small talk. “Couldn't stay away.”
Sam’s dad raised a cool eyebrow. “From your analysis of deep space radar telemetry,” he said flatly.
Crap. “Well, it's just so damn fascinating.”
“I'm sure it is.” Carter, Sr. passed the salad to his daughter. “Otherwise Sammy here wouldn’t prefer being stuck under a mountain to being in NASA. Because I’m sure that she would never let her personal life get in the way of her career.”
“We have our moments.” Jack gave him the most sincere smile he could. NASA? Her Dad was trying to get her in to NASA? Ouch. The SGC was so much cooler, but it wasn’t like she could tell the old man that without clearance, which she was not likely to get. He tried to give her a sympathetic look, but she didn’t notice it because she was too busy glaring at her Dad.
“As I told you earlier,” she said through gritted teeth, “I love my job. Even if Jack and the baby didn’t exist, that would not change. I would still tell you to mind your own damn business.”
“At least talk to them, then. Do that much for me.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “I knew sooner or later you'd make this about you.”
Ooh. This was like the World Wrestling Federation, only a lot more painful. There was a kind of horrifying fascination to it. “I’m sure Sam can figure out what she wants to do with her career on her own. Thanks for the advice, sir. Sam, I’m sure he means well.” He tried to be as … soothing as he could. Sara had always complained about his lack of tact, but even he realized that both Carters needed to cool down some. He tried to think back—had his first meeting with Sara’s father been this bad? He didn’t think so.
“And I’m sure you’ve got Sam’s career as your top priority,” General Carter said. “What with knocking her up and shacking up with her the second she left your command. That’ll really look good on her record. And I’m sure you’re not influencing her to throw away all her dreams of space at all.”
“Excuse me?” Jack raised his eyebrows. “We talking about the same Sam Carter? Can beat tribal leaders in knife fights, likes to blow stuff up, most brilliant scientist in the free world, takes no crap from anybody? That Sam Carter? She’d have my ass if I tried to tell her what to do. And if you think otherwise, maybe you don’t know your daughter as well as you think you do, General. And maybe that’s the problem, here.” Okay, so it wasn’t diplomatic, but the guy was really starting to piss him off.
“Knife fights? You got my little girl into knife fights? What kind of team do you lead, mister? Deep Space Radar Telemetry my ass.”
Jack froze. Crap.
“Dad, drop it,” Sam said, a note of command in her voice that Jack couldn’t remember hearing before.
“Just between us, your cover stories could use a little polish.” And maybe General Carter really didn’t know his daughter as well as he thought he did, because Jack sure as hell wouldn’t have pushed her. Not with that expression on her face.
“Sorry, Dad, I don't know what you're talking about.” Her voice was arctic.
Her father paused, and really looked at her for the first time since they’d sat down to eat. “No, of course not, I'm out of line.” He nodded, slowly. “I’m sorry. You know I only want what’s best for you. But it’s your life and your career, of course.”
He turned to his dinner, attacking it single-mindedly.
“Apology accepted, Dad,” Sam said, her voice thawing a little.
Well. Round One to Carter, Junior. And he wasn’t about to break the truce by opening his big fat mouth again any time soon. No, sirree. Momma O’Neill didn’t raise geniuses, but she didn’t raise idiots, either.
***
Sam concentrated on her meal, ignoring the looks Dad was shooting her, as she tried to figure out something to talk about that wouldn’t result in another fight. Jack wasn’t being much help, for which she could only be grateful given his capacity to say the wrong thing. She usually found his big mouth and, to put it tactfully, directness, to be endearing (or at least amusing). Tonight? Not so much. This was why she’d wanted to break the news to Dad without him there. On the other hand … Dad was pretty good at being an ass himself, when he wanted to be. As he was proving tonight.
She hadn’t really noticed before how much alike the two were. It was … kind of scary, actually.
She set that thought aside for later consideration. “So, Dad, will you be staying with us or in a hotel?”
“I’m already checked in to the Holiday Inn downtown. The last I heard from you, you only had a one-bedroom apartment, and I didn’t want to get stuck on the couch.”
“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” she asked.
“Actually, I do,” Dad said. “Unless you’ve got time off and had something in mind?”
Sam shook her head.
“Well, when I got your address from George, he said he could take tomorrow off and take me golfing.”
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy catching up with everything that’s happened since you two were stationed together,” Sam said, fixing herself another hamburger. “And maybe he can give you his perspective on recent events.”
Dad put down his fork. “Sam, if you can look me straight in the eye and tell you there was no unprofessional conduct of any kind between you and him,” he jerked his thumb at Jack, “before you were transferred off his team, and that there’s nothing that can cause you professional trouble down the line, I won’t have to ask him.”
Damn it. Damn it. She’d never been able to lie to him, or even mislead him, about the things that really mattered. “There isn’t anything.”
There was a moment of silence while Dad studied her. “Right.” He went back to his dinner.
“Dad,” she said desperately, trying to think of something to say. She stared down at her plate, trying to control her emotions, damning the pregnancy hormones that magnified every feeling. “Excuse me,” she said, climbing to her feet and heading out as quickly as she could without running.
“Way to go, Dad,” she heard Jack say behind her.
“Sam—” Dad said.
She ignored them both, heading to her—their—bedroom, closing the door behind her and curling up on the bed as she fought for control.
Someone knocked at the door, gently. She ignored it; she didn’t have the strength to deal with either man now without falling apart. The door opened anyway; she didn’t turn to see who it was, annoyed at the invasion of her privacy and hoping he’d just go away.
Instead, she felt a hand on her back, rubbing gently. “Hey,” Jack said. “C’mere.” He turned her around so she fit against him better and wrapped his arms around her. Needing the comfort, Sam hugged him back and let the tears come.
***
Jack rubbed her back slowly as she cried on his shoulder; he knew her well enough to figure she was probably embarrassed with how she’d broken down emotionally. He didn’t really know what to say that wouldn’t make it worse, so he stayed quiet. Sam was enough of a talker that if she had something to say, she’d let it out. Not like him, that way. Jack was more prone to hold things in until they ate him up inside. It kept you going on long missions, kept your guard up all the time, but as a life strategy it … had its drawbacks. It had cost him his marriage to Sara, in the end, and almost killed Daniel, Ska’ara, Sha’re and everyone else on Abydos, including him.
After a few minutes she swiped a hand across her eyes to wipe away the tears. “I’m sorry, Jack.” She hadn’t sat up, so he couldn’t see her face, but she wasn’t clinging as hard.
“No, it’s fine,” Jack said. “Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on, sometimes. I’m just glad I can be yours.”
“It’s these stupid hormones,” Sam went on. “I’m not usually like this, I swear.”
“Even more reason to indulge you now.”
“It’s just … I can stand having Dad angry at me. God knows it’s happened before. But the idea,” Sam swallowed, and he could feel her start to tremble a little, “of him being disappointed or ashamed …”
“Yeah,” Jack said, when she didn’t continue. He’d taken a bit of pleasure, over the years, in setting his dad off. His mother was a whole different story, though.
“And we can’t tell him anything,” Sam went on. “It’s not my fault, I didn’t do anything wrong, but there’s nothing I can say to him that would convince him because everything is classified. And the deal with NASA—God, if I didn’t have the SGC, and he offered me that? Except I don’t even have the Stargate anymore. All I do is sit in a lab and analyze the stuff that other people have brought back. I might as well be in Area 52! They wanted me there, they said that top scientists don’t belong in the field, but I asked Hammond and he brought me in. And I was good at being a field officer, it was everything I’d ever dreamed, but because of that fucking virus I’m grounded and my Dad thinks I’m some stupid bimbo who can’t keep her pants on and was caught with her CO! And if I ever come before a promotions board that doesn’t know about the SGC, or doesn’t care, that’s what they’re going to think, too.”
Jack just kept rubbing her back. It was the only thing he could do.
Part 3
