Sensory Overload

Author's Note: SG-1 team are asked to test a 'time stopping' device and check out its properties. Of course you can expect all kinds of antics when our friends are allowed free reign in 'extra' time. Set sometime after 'Window of Opportunity' in Season 4. References are made to 'Divide and Conquer' and 'Point of View'.

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

Chapter One 'Sam needs more time'

Major Samantha Carter was finding her life had become very complicated over the previous few years and she was desperately trying to figure out ways of either simplifying it – never an easy challenge for an experimental astrophysicist with an increasingly multidisciplinary role as a team player on SG-1 – or meeting the demands of the lifestyle she had chosen.

Over the previous four years she'd got used to the rigors of Stargate missions and their inherent dangers and was now able to view impending missions with a critical eye. Fear of what would appear the other side of the event horizon of the Stargate wasn't in itself an issue, she had a healthy respect for fear and it didn't dominate her every waking hour. She felt she was taking the dangers in her stride and that she had succeeded in this aspect of the missions.

Injuries were always a concern, for herself and the others. The bond the four of them shared had developed a long way from the initial formation of SG-1 and the concerns for each other had become harder to deal with – watching ones teammate being wounded, tortured or suffer the invasion of an alien parasite was the most difficult of all.

It definitely had its upside though. Each of her teammates had a special place in her heart and she enjoyed every minute of their company.

The strange understanding that had developed with her Commanding Officer, that while kept in the background most of the time, meant a sexual tension that pervaded throughout their daily work. As a result every meeting with him was precious to her, though mostly in the fun and banter that typified Jack O Neill at his most droll. Even if the regulations in the Air Force meant nothing would come of it, she loved the way his energy and wit kept the four of them motivated, binding her to the team as if her very own life force depended on it.

What was bugging her was the other aspects of her live that were being kept on hold. Thinking firstly of her job or profession: she wasn't getting to check out a whole raft of technological 'finds', and any they did manage to test, she never felt she had a handle on their workings. She felt she was making some progress with the properties of naquadah and all its related applications, but she knew that for every one set of tests she planned and carried out, dozens of others were being queued for later work. Because of confidentiality agreements and the secretive nature of the SGC, she couldn't ask for too much assistance – what she wanted more than anything was time.

As she sat in the commissary late one Friday evening she reviewed her day in the lab thinking of what she'd been up to: welding, soldering, wiring, distilling, boiling, freezing, vaporizing, exploding, sterilizing… the list went on and on, she realized as she gulped her hot coffee. She'd also had to log all the details of her experiments onto her laptop and her eyes were tired – for the moment she let them rest out of focus, the grey wall of the commissary a haze in front of her. Letting her head roll back to exercise her neck muscles, she moved her head from side to side, to try and loosen up the tension that had built up there, conscious that the only other occupants of the room were leaving: she looked at them briefly, smiling vacantly at the two young airman.

'Boy, I've got to get a life', she thought.

She looked at her watch; 22:05 and she still had a good two hours of work left if she wanted to set up the experiment for tomorrow.

Another weekend planned at the SGC – at least this experiment was going well and with no off world missions for a few days she had great expectations for the next debriefing. General Hammond would be pleased: it would keep the pressure from Washington away from him to have mastered more alien technology.

She loved what she did, her brain constantly active, invigorated by problem solving and planning processes. But on a Friday night she wasn't going home, going out with friends or going to any clubs – she hadn't bought any new music for so long, she didn't have much connection with anyone from her past life and little enough time for her family. All very well for a while – maybe she just needed a holiday. She asked herself: when was the last time she lay on a beach in a bikini, with suntan lotion and a novel or magazine?

Answer: never. First, she didn't own a bikini, whatever the guys thought or teased her about – the last one she owned was when she was a cadet and Lord only knows where that ended up; she hadn't read a novel for years, her literary companions usually took the form of manuals, catalogues or Daniel's translations and descriptions of off-world mythology. Her lab bench was always piled high and her bedside locker had the same unread novel for months. Her thoughts when she went to bed were invariably about work and SG-1, what they were doing, who said what, but invariably her thoughts reverted to the mood of her CO, whether it was his latest teasing comment, his infectious repartee, his impatience or his sarcasm.

'Carter, what's wrong with the one you have?'

'Sir, I didn't hear you come in.' Sam was stunned, she hadn't realized she'd spoken out and she hadn't heard him come in. Speak of the devil… she thought.

'Whatcha doing? Aren't you on downtime for the weekend?' he asked reaching over for a coffee before he brought it back to sit across from her at the little table.

'Oh, I'm catching up on some projects: the one I'm working on will impress General Hammond – if it works, so I was going to use the time over the weekend when the equipment in Lab 4 is free.'

'Carter, don't you ever take a break?' The chair he pulled out scratched on the floor before he lowered himself into it. Was he always this attractive when he smiled, Sam asked herself, but immediately tried to put such thoughts of her CO out of her head – when she was tired, she never knew what she might give away if she didn't guard her feelings.

'I'm on a break now.' She retorted.

'I mean a break from this place – go away for a holiday.'

'You don't take any proper breaks – go away on holidays, either, Sir. Your fishing trips are constantly being postponed.'

'True. Okay, I'm no better than you are. But your workload seems heavier than mine. Or is it that I make mine look less…' he thought for a minute '…less serious or intense…or ' again he searched for the right words '…

'Less like work, Sir?' Sam offered.

'Yeah! Exactly.' Good he'd taken it as a complement, Sam thought. He continued

'On the other hand, yours is so specialized no one can offer you help or even make useful suggestions to you. If I asked you tonight for example, if I could help you – you know, so you might finish up a bit earlier – you'd look at me like I'd grown a second head, …unless it had a very clever brain in it, maybe! Something of real use to you!'

As if aware he'd gone off on a tangent, he pulled himself up saying

'You know what I mean.' Of course she did, she was used to his tampering with clichés, the change in his facial expressions entertaining if not downright comic.

'Actually, Sir, there is something you can help me with.' She was surprised she was asking but she needed somebody to bounce some options off and her CO would do very well. She didn't need his input; she just needed to hear her own voice propose the options so she could clarify her decisions. He didn't need to know that, of course.

'Wait a minute. You actually want my help?' he was stunned, gesticulating with his hands in the air. 'With a science experiment?' he finished, his voice rising menacingly on the end of the word 'science'.

'Have you time?' she asked. 'You weren't just trying to be polite?' she checked, trying to look like she was disappointed.

He didn't answer her question just said instead. 'Can you wait for a minute so I can finish my coffee?'

Sam beamed at him, a big smile, that expressed all the fun she got when she say how uncomfortable she could make him when he didn't understand what she was working on. ' This will be great, thank you, Sir. Take your time.'

… … …

'Sir, what would you do if you had 'extra time' you know, where time stands still and you can do something you've always wanted but you can fit it into your day without stopping what else you have to do?'

'God, Carter, what's wrong with the length of the day you have? Is it not long enough?'

'It's not that, Sir, it's just that there's so many other things I'd like to do as well and all I can hope is that I'll do them some day, in the future – it gets a bit frustrating sometimes. But, there's this doohickey, thingy we found, a bit like the quantum mirror control that we're familiar with…'

'Don't go there!' Jack interrupted. 'Did we not have enough problems with that little device already?' Then he thought 'You're not intending to bring more Samantha Carters through to help you?' raising his voice to ask her, a frown furrowing his brow, his deep brown eyes directed at her. 'Not that I've any real objection to more Samantha Carters…in fact, I love them all…' he trailed off not sure where his comments were leading and looking a bit uncomfortable. He finished 'You're not are you?'

'No, Sir, remember the entropic cascade failure?'

'Not pretty' he recalled bringing his hands up to imitate the distorting effect the quantum mirror had had on the other Samantha Carter and the reasons she had to return to her own reality.

'Or the hair!...course she wasn't you…the kiss…okay, now I'm rambling.' He trailed off.

'Sir?' Sam wasn't sure where he was going with these disconnected ideas. He was doing a lot of rambling this evening.

Sam thought she'd ask anyway, a preliminary run through before she brought her proposal to General Hammond.

'Sir, would you mind if I propose to General Hammond that SG-1 test this device. Not the experiment I'm doing tonight but this other device – it's waiting to be studied. Daniel's nearly finished translation the inscriptions on it. We could make the proposal over the next few days if you agree. What do you think?'

'Okay with me. Sounds fun.' He finished his coffee, rising from the table, asking Sam .

'Ready?'

… … …

He definitely looked unnerved by her request to help her but was putting a brave face on it. When they left the commissary walking towards the lift to her floor he posed another question to her.

'So what is it about your life you need to 'get'?' He reminded her of her earlier comment.

'Sir,' Sam was surprised. She was sure he could guess what she meant and really he could easily embarrass her with a question like that. But, she could play at this game too, though.

'Oh, you know yourself, Sir: holidays, the beach, sunbathing, reading magazines, suntan, novels, new music, clothes, boyfriends, dating, dancing, clubbing…' she had a quick look at him as the lift door opened. 'You must get bothered if you don't get to go dancing or nightclubbing too often, Sir.'

'With my knees? You're kidding me, aren't you?' He tried to smile, but it seemed a bit of an effort. 'Anyway, Carter, I hadn't you down for the clubbing kind.'

'Well, Sir, I've had my share of the clubbing scene as much as anyone' then she beamed him her most sincere smile, having enough of this conversation 'but, yeah, you're right. Some things I'd like to have more time for though. Even in the SGC, we've a backlog of projects waiting to get started – doohickeys waiting to be investigated, like the one I told you about.'

When they arrived at the lab, Sam didn't spend long giving him the shortest possible background to the experiment, pointing out various equipment and what she intended to do, watching for the signs that his eyes were glazing over. She loved when this happened, she'd figured out a way of raising the tone of her voice, to catch him out. She knew sometimes he pretended he didn't understand – it was a game they played.

"So if I do this…' and she presented one option, laying out the consequences to him, 'but, if I do this…' she gave him an alternative scenario. By the time she'd said them she knew herself the latter was better.

'You think the second option is better, don't you, Sir?'

'Yeah, how did you know?' he answered.

'You saw all the flaws with the first: too risky and no guarantee it would work. Too many variables I couldn't control. Too many assumptions.'

She smiled at him. 'You're right, Sir. I'll go with the second option.'

He raised his eyebrow, surprised by her confidence in him.

'You sure?' she checked.

'Sure.' He could have been suggesting they blow up the SGC for all he knew but he was going along with it. Confidence and decision-making: that was his thing and he was sticking to it.

'Thank you, Sir. That's going to help me a lot.'

'Anytime, Carter. Is that all?'

'Yes, Sir, 'Night, Sir.'

'Night, Carter. Don't stay too long.'

… … …

Sam smiled when she eventually lay her head on her pillow at 01:30 thinking what a silly request she had made to the Colonel, asking for his help in an experiment – he must have known that she'd work it out herself. He was good at pretending though. She thought back to the conversation she had with him, enjoying his flustered anxiety over the comparison with the quantum mirror. She did wonder what effects the 'time stopping' device would have though, vowing to present her experiment proposal to General Hammond as soon as possible.