Title: Conversations in Limbo
Author: Kate McCaye
Rating: K+
Setting: Season 8, between New Order and Atlantis: Rising
Summary: So, the whole point of this story was to give myself an explanation for why Daniel and O'Neill are in the Atlantis pilot without Carter. Hints at S/J, but if you don't want to see it you don't have to.
A/N: This one's a little different from my normal stuff. Actually it's more like the first few stories I ever posted, because that's when it was written. I never posted it before but I figured with the new DVDs coming out people might be watching these episodes again, so I figured I'd go ahead and put it out there. It's mostly dialogue, filler scenes between the end of New Order and the first ten minutes of Atlantis: Rising.
Thanks to everyone who sent congratulations about the twins, I really appreciate it. They are big and beautiful and taking up all of my time and energy in a wonderful way. I couldn't resist the random temptation to dip into my folder of unsent fics though, although most of those have remained hidden for a reason.
Conversations in Limbo
"Well, I hope you're happy!" Newly-promoted Brigadier General Jack O'Neill 'greeted' his 2IC sarcastically as he entered her lab. She looked at him curiously, not intimidated by his tone but trying to figure out what was behind it. This time, at least.
Also freshly-promoted, Lieutenant Colonel Sam Carter moved from the tiny desk in the corner of her lab to the workbench in the middle. She sat down on a stool across from her CO, who leaned on the table with his elbows and waited for her response.
"Happy about what, sir?" she prompted when she realized that was what he was waiting for.
"I just had to pay Daniel fifty bucks, but worse than that, I had to see his smug-bastard smirk while I did it."
"Lost another bet, sir?" she asked, smiling despite the fact that apparently she was the subject being bet upon. Again.
"Yeah. How come you were perfectly happy to stay here all of a sudden while Daniel goes off to Antarctica to find Atlantis?"
"That was the bet then, I take it?"
"Yeah. Danny's all gung-ho about the whole thing - I expected as much annoying begging from you."
Sam shrugged and broke eye contact for a few moments. "Just not my thing, sir."
"And you expect me to buy that load of crap you're trying to sell, Carter?" he asked conversationally.
She shrugged again. "I've got plenty of work to do here. The guy who had this job before me left me a backlog of paperwork nearly as deep as the mountain itself."
"That bastard," Jack said dramatically. She smiled, and he added, "All right, good point." He picked up a few stray paper clips that were on her desk and started fiddling with them. Sam watched him for a few long moments, just glad to see him there and in one piece after everything that had happened to him recently - to all of them actually.
Maybe it was a bad sign of co-dependence that would have Mackenzie whipping out his prescription pad and making 'recommendations' left and right, but since Jack and Sam had both been saved, all four members of SG-1 had been finding frequent excuses to be together. They just congregated - usually in Carter's or Daniel's lab, sometimes the commissary, briefing room, Jack's new office…
Part of it was also probably due to the recent dual promotion. So many things were changing so fast it was hard to keep up with - and a little scary. They were all still seeking each other out, even if it was just to work quietly in the same room. They hadn't mentioned any of this aloud of course. But they were all aware of it on some level. Silent encouragement, that they could all handle all the new changes and that they were still all going to be 'family SG-1.'
Now, though, Daniel was joining Weir's team in Antarctica, and Carter hadn't even petitioned for a spot once.
"Are you going home tonight?" Jack finally asked. Both had been lost in their own rather similar thoughts for several minutes.
"No, sir."
None of them had left the base at all in nearly two weeks. They all wanted to be near enough to each other. Well, except for Daniel now, of course.
"Sweet. Me neither. This Generalling stuff isn't as easy as Hammond let on."
"And we haven't even had a base emergency yet," Sam commented.
Jack shushed her (very loudly) and said, "Don't jinx it!"
"Sorry, sir," she replied with a mild smile.
"I guess I'll let it slide this time… chess later?"
Her small, praying-for-patience smile turned into a deep genuine grin. "Sounds good."
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
Two days later, Sam knocked on the open door frame of Jack's new office. He was on the phone but he waved her inside, gesturing at one of the empty chairs that faced his desk. He wrapped up his phone conversation and leaned over his forearms on his blotter, lacing his fingers and looking at her carefully. "Carter. I hope you weren't in the middle of something important."
"No, sir. Not particularly. What did you want to see me about?"
"Daniel wants us in Antarctica. We fly out in an hour."
Sam paled visibly.
"Is that a problem?"
"Well… I'm going to try to say this without sounding too petulant here but… why do I have to go?"
"What do you mean why do you have to go?"
"I mean… none of the technology down there even works anymore and even if it did it wouldn't work for me because I don't have the Ancient gene. It's all translating… it's all Daniel's stuff. I can see why they need you down there, sort of, but… sir, if it's all the same to you I'd really, really prefer it if I could stay here."
She tried very hard to give him a blank expression he couldn't do anything with. She obviously failed. "Carter," he said, his voice softening. "What's this all about? You look… scared. It's scaring me."
"I'm not scared," she insisted automatically, like it was a reflex. "I just… really hate that continent, sir. So much."
"It's not exactly my favorite either, Carter. In fact, I hate it too. Come on. It'll probably take both of us to drag Daniel's ass home anyway."
"Sir…" she began hesitantly. She stopped, biting her lip, weighing her choices. Her mind started flashing to each time she'd been on that god-forsaken continent. Stuck in a glacier for days as her CO slowly died because she couldn't fix the DHD and had been too dumb to realize that if she had tried any other address than Earth's they would have been out of there… her joy over finding the frozen Ancient, which had quickly faded when they'd all been infected with a virus. Ayana had cured everyone else but the Colonel, which had led to her convincing him to go off with the Tok'ra, which had led to him being tortured over and over by Ba'al… She wouldn't have thought it could get worse than that… till the last, most recent time, when Teal'c had dragged her away from the frozen coffin that had been their CO's resting place for so long…
"Carter?"
He was giving her a decidedly more-than-professional look of concern, which clenched it. She had to do it. "You have every right to order me to go with you," she began quietly. "And I will follow my orders, of course. I've never asked you for… for personal consideration before, sir. And I'm certainly not planning to make a habit of it now. But on this, sir… please don't make me do this. Please."
"Dammit, Carter," he said quietly, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. She felt like he was dissecting her with his eyes. "I'm not trying to get out of this trip, and I hate that place more than you do."
"I wouldn't bet on that," she mumbled, looking down at his new nameplate so she didn't have to look at him.
"What was that?" he asked. "Carter, unless I'm completely delusional you've come out okay each time we've gone there. I'm the one that ends up almost dead every time I set foot on that icy hellhole!"
"Exactly!" she almost yelled.
"What does that mean?" he asked hotly.
"It means what it means, sir!" she retorted, no longer concerned that she was yelling at her CO. "Yes, you do almost die every time we go there. And you have the luxury of being unconscious for most of that! How do you think it feels being the one…"
She stopped talking abruptly, some part of her brain warning her to stop before she said something that was normally hidden away in one of those 'don't talk about it, don't even think about it - ever' parts of her mind.
They stared at each other, hard, for several moments, each with similarly challenging, stubborn expressions laced with eye-pleas for silent understanding.
"Okay," Jack finally said quietly, scooting back up to his desk and leaning forward on it, towards her, again. "You don't have to go."
"Thank you," she said with a huge sigh of relief.
"Carter… you know that I have to go, right?" he asked after a few moments of silence.
She nodded, but she really didn't look happy about it at all. Truthfully, he wasn't very excited about the trip either.
"Look… there's been a team of military and civilian personnel down there for weeks. Nothing… nothing's going to happen," Jack offered. He didn't even sound convincing to himself, but he felt like he had to say it. It was probably true… then again they always got into a lot of trouble with what would 'probably' not happen.
"Yes, sir," she agreed, swallowing hard as she nodded.
"So," Jack said, suddenly really needing to lighten the mood. "If you're staying here then you'll be in charge while I'm gone."
"I will?" She brightened visibly at the change of topic… and the thought of being in charge of the entire SGC, albeit temporarily.
"Yup. Now don't go proving that you can do this job better than me, okay?"
"Can I sit in your chair?" she asked with a hopeful, impossible-to-say-no-to grin.
He chuckled. "Yeahsureyoubetcha."
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
General O'Neill was waiting for his transport out of McMurdough. Sheppard had just given him a rather tentative 'yes,' but it was a 'yes' nonetheless, so at least he had something good to report back to Weir. He had a feeling that woman wouldn't have taken 'no' for an answer, and didn't want to be the one having to relay another refusal.
He glanced at his watch and realized it had been a few hours since he'd checked in with Carter. Officially, he was calling for an update on the SGC. Unofficially… well he kind of got the feeling she was worried something bad was going to happen to him again while he was there, and (unofficially of course), it was kind of nice that she cared.
He pulled out his cell phone and called his own office.
"Colonel Carter."
"Hey, Carter. I just wanted to make sure you realize that the ass print in that chair is Hammond's, not mine," he said, noticing that the two Airmen on duty snickered into the back of their hands.
He heard quiet laughing, followed by, "Understood, sir."
"Everything still running smoothly?"
"Yes, sir. I also cleaned up a bunch of stuff on your laptop, I hope you don't mind. It's running about twice as fast…"
"You didn't get rid of my screensaver did you?"
"No, sir, Homer is fine. How's… everything there?"
"It's… good. Real good." He winced, hoping the connection was bad and she wouldn't notice his hesitation.
"Did something happen?"
Apparently the connection was crystal clear.
"Everything's fine," he insisted.
"But… for a while it wasn't."
"There was a small scare earlier," he admitted. "But everything's fine now. No worries. Hakuna matata. All that stuff."
"What happened?"
Realizing Daniel would tell her anyway, he said, "There was a small… weapons… malfunction. With the drone chair."
"Small? Sir, that chair is the most powerful…"
"I know. But it only shot off one of those squid things, that was it."
"Wouldn't it only target a flying…"
"Yeah. See, I was being flown into the base in a helicopter, so it sort of… locked onto us and… Major Sheppard, the guy flying the chopper, did some fancy moves and set us down on the ground, we bailed, but they got the drone shut down just in time anyway."
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, and he wondered what her face looked like at the moment. "Carter?"
"Are you coming back now, sir?"
"Yup. I'll be on a plane within the hour. Hey, you aren't getting drunk with power up there, are you, Carter? I'm not going to come back to find that the commissary is only stocking blue jell-o now, am I?" he asked lightly.
"No, sir. I'm fairly certain they still have red."
She sounded like she was smiling. One or two more tries, maybe she'd even laugh. "Hey, did you take care of that paperwork I left on top of my desk when I left?"
"You mean did I sign the 'official request' for Casual Fridays and Tailgate Tuesdays and send it to General Hammond? No sir, I did not."
"Damn."
"It was pretty clever though, slipping it between all those requisition forms from the commissary and the infirmary. Nice try, sir."
"Thanks. You didn't redecorate the Gateroom in pink or anything, right? Because I'm thinking peridot."
She was laughing when she responded. "Nope, it's still grey, sir,"
"Glad to hear it, Carter," he said honestly. Hey, she didn't have to know he wasn't just talking about the status of the Gateroom walls.
The pilot appeared near the open hangar doors, waving him over. The plane was ready. "Looks like the plane's ready. I'll be home in… well in a bunch of boring hours."
"I'll try to hold down the fort, sir."
"You do that, Colonel. And Carter?"
"Sir?"
"Leave the light on for me."
"Yes, sir."
The end.