This work is based off of LSgrimm91's story Meet you on the other side.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, and I'm not making money off of it. The coffee shop idea isn't even mine, it came from LSgrimm91.

Chapter 1

0948h,
Saturday, 11th February 1996

Ow. Ow. Ow...

Sam sighed and continued to draw a circle on her temple with her thumb. After three days at home, she had developed an awful - and persistent - headache. So after downing two Tylenol and finally closing her laptop, her main focus was on enjoying the rustic appeal of the Agia Sophia Coffee shop. She has always loved the smell of fresh, hot coffee. It felt like a library, with the walls of books around her and the deliberately hushed tones of its clients.

"Doctor Sam Carter?"

Great.

She waited a moment before looking up at the man who had addressed her. She didn't recognise the blonde man before her, so if he wanted to talk to her specifically, he must have followed her. She doubted he was here by accident.

"Who wants to know?" She quirked her head. The man gestured to the seat across from her with the folded sunglasses in his hands. The look she gave told him he was not welcome.

"Detective Pete Shanahan, Denver PD."

She kicked the chair opposite under the table, pushing it out as a way of reluctantly inviting him to sit. He took little notice and sat down as she closed the book she had been reading.

"Nice place. Bit isolated," he offered her a charming grin, "but nice."

If it wasn't for the 'stalker vibe' she was getting off of him, she'd have smiled back. To be fair, he wasn't the ugliest human to walk the Earth.

"Something I can help you with, Detective?" Sam laced her fingers on the table diplomatically. Shanahan turned his head towards the nearest window, his eyes drifting the nearest table where a couple was engrossed in conversation.

"You know, I was actually here on assignment. I was giving the CSPD a hand on a case," he waved his own hand dismissively, "I was due to head back yesterday morning. Anyway, Thursday night, I'm having a drink at this bar down south and I overhear these two guys talking."

He leaned forwards and planted an elbow on the table.

"I reckon they'd had a few too many, but one of them mentioned the fact that two people had died where he worked." He cocked his head, "Naturally, I was curious."

"Fascinating." Sam tried to sound nonchalant, but it was difficult when she had been directly involved in the events leading to those deaths. If it was even the same incident. She had a gut feeling that it was.

"That's what I thought," there was that smile again, "I hadn't heard of the incident, so I thought I'd suss it out. Turns out, both of those guys work at Cheyenne Mountain. Which, as I understand, is where you work. Deep space radar telemetry?"

"If that's what my file says," she shrugged.

"Huh," he nodded, "you used to work for the Department of Aerospace? Right?" He leaned back in his chair.

Sam gave no verbal reply, but sent a glare his way.

"I did a bit of digging. What were their names...? Jason Wells, that was one. Senior Airmen Wells. He was in Security Forces. Doctor Leslie Dawson was the other one."

Sam clenched her teeth at the sound of her friend's name. Unfortunately, the Detective didn't miss the sudden change in her demeanour, though he made no comment.

"She was your assistant at the Department of Aerospace. I'm guessing that didn't change when you both moved to NORAD. I gotta wonder why an SF and a physicist died while studying the wonders of deep space," he tried to smile politely, as if his curiosity was completely innocent. Sam wanted to hit him.

"Maybe you could let me talk to your boss. He could give me an explanation. You've got a General running NORAD. Former Special Forces, I believe."

"I wouldn't know. But if that's true, I wouldn't cross him. You won't get far."

"Really? I'd like to meet him. You work in a research facility. The military has its own laws, but surely someone will notice two deaths. If the appropriate precaution hasn't been taken, then maybe someone should step in and insist some action be taken against the man responsible for their safety. Don't you think?"

"Stop it..."

Sam even went so far as to visualise her fist connecting with his jaw, until a hand slamming on the table startled them both. She followed the arm, covered by a cream jacket up to a familiar face. Jack O'Neill. For once, she was thankful it was him that seemed to have rescued her from the emotional turmoil of answering the Detective's questions.

"You're in my seat, bud," the General stared at Detective Shanahan. Pete, on the other hand, seemed quite pleased to see Jack. Sam remained silent. If the General could get this guy to leave, she'd go along with whatever lie he told.

"General Jack O'Neill, I presume?"

"Brigadier General," Jack growled. The two men sized each other up. "Samantha isn't at liberty to talk about her work. Time to get moving, Detective."

It entirely escaped Sam that Jack was deliberately giving the Detective the wrong impression. He intended to make Pete believe he had much more invested in the good Doctor than their work. Luckily, Shanahan believed the lie. Pete rose from the chair, carefully adjusting the collar of his shirt.

"I dunno what goes on in that mountain, but people are gonna ask questions," he looked down at Sam, "Doctor."

Jack and Sam watched the man leave and as soon as he was out of sight, Sam let out a sigh of relief and began to rub her temple. Her headache was worse now. The General eyed the now vacant chair, to which Sam nodded an invitation. He sat down and - despite her headache - she was actually glad for his company.

"I was about ready to hit him," she muttered as she kneaded her neck with her hands.

"Well... if you intend to commit violent acts when someone asks you a question, I won't ask if you're alright," the General smirked. Smart ass.

"If you did, I would say I'm fine," he nodded in understanding, "But thank you."

Jack smiled warmly, sending a shiver through Sam's body.

"Likewise."

Sam looked up at the General and found sincere gratitude. And there, just for a moment, something clicked. Something important. Something truly essential. And with that spark, a swell of emotions brewed in her stomach. When she first laid eyes on her new boss, he was like a set of armour: cold, strong and completely unyielding. Who knew there was a knight underneath?

"I thought I was the only one that knew about this place," he brought her out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry?"

"Agia's. You come here often or just stopping in?" he waved his hand to their surroundings.

"Oh! Um... Yes. I come here sometimes. Usually on Sunday afternoons. I just needed to get out for a while. I'm leaving for Nashville tomorrow." She played with the binding of her book. "Why are you here? No offense General, but I didn't take you for the coffee shop kind."

He chuckled. "What kind did you take me for?" She stammered for an answer she couldn't give. "It's quiet. I'm not likely to run into anyone I know. Although today seems to be an exception. That kind of works out well. I was hoping to catch you before you left. Or I left."

"You're leaving?" her eyebrows arched in worry. She didn't want him to leave.

"I'm heading to DC a few days. I'll be back Wednesday. Hammond can hold the fort. "

"Oh..." she replied quietly. She glanced around the coffee shop, looked across the aisle. She stared at the man sitting there, reading a book.