A/N: Yes, yet another entry into the challenging world of sappy-baby-fic. But hopefully, you'll enjoy it anyway. If memory serves, I think this was the first fanficstory I wrote. Consider yourself forewarned.
Disclaimer:
A full disclaimer I did write
I crafted it late in the night
All this effort tosay
"Do I own them? No way!"
No,somebody else holds the rights.
Taking All the Fun Out
SG1 and General O'Neill returned to the SGC from a diplomatic mission, and the General was predictably irritable. Behind him as he walked away from the gate, he heard it – Sam was sick again.
"Carter, get yourself to the infirmary and get checked out," he barked. "You there, help her out."
"No, sir. Really, I'm fine," Sam choked out.
"Just taking up bulimia as a hobby, are we? Get to the infirmary."
"Sir," Carter began to object.
"Why are you trying my patience today, Carter? The infirmary. That's an order," he said sharply, glaring at her before he turned to walk away.
"Sir!" She was practically shouting. The General whirled back toward her. No one in the room could help but look. She brought her tone under control. "Of course, Sir. But could I please see you in your office first? It's extremely important."
"It had better be. Get yourself cleaned up and in my office in ten minutes." With one last menacing look, he strode off.
Sam smoothed her hair and slacks one final time before knocking on the General's door. She wished it were still the fatherly General Hammond inside. She wished anyone else were inside. Explaining herself to Jack O'Neill was the last thing she wanted to do.
As she raised her hand to knock, a hand came from behind her and turned the knob. Jack swept around her and held the door. "After you..." he said, without a touch of humor. Sam sighed and walked through the door.
Sam took a seat, while the General stood shuffling files on his desk. "What's your problem, Carter? Are you sick?"
"In a manner of speaking, Sir," she replied cautiously.
"Fine. That settles it. Let the doc look you over. Dismissed." He knew it wasn't going to be that easy, but after the day he'd had, he was in the mood to spread the misery around.
"I don't need to go to the infirmary, Sir. I know what's wrong with me, and there is nothing they can do to help." Sam paused, trying to slow her breathing and choose her words carefully.
"You know what's wrong. And...?" he asked, impatiently, "that would be....?"
The effort to say it caused Sam to speak louder than she intended. "I'm pregnant."
The General dropped into his chair.
That was honestly the last thing that Jack expected to hear. Dying of a rare disease, having a severe allergic reaction to 'gate travel, getting into a batch of tainted Jell-o, these reasons would have surprised him less.
"Pregnant," he repeated, staring blankly in Sam's general direction. After a moment, he rose and began to shuffle his files absently, using the opportunity to avoid looking at her. "So, I suppose congratulations are in order," he said with as steady a voice as he could muster.
"Well, I wouldn't say that, Sir," Samantha hedged. "I...Sir, I...I don't know how this happened."
Jack's head snapped up. Who was she kidding? "Please, Carter," he snarled. "I would expect that from some ridiculous, love-struck recruit, but not from you. I think I know you well enough to know that I don't have to explain the birds and the bees."
"Of course, not. That's not what I mean," Sam began, but he was pacing now and she knew what was coming.
"So. So," he said, too pleasantly, "how far?"
"About six weeks," she sighed.
"Six weeks!" He smiled, but his teeth were clenched. "I didn't even know you were seeing anyone, Carter. Do you mind...do you mind if I ask who the father is? Are you back together with that...Shanahan?" He could barely spit out Pete's name.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Sam said, pleadingly.
"Oh, that's what you're trying to tell me. Now. When were you going to mention it, Carter?" He was starting to rant now.
"No! Listen!" Sam cried out, quickly adding "Sir," as his head whipped towards her, eyes flaming. "What I'm trying to tell you is that I don't know who the father is."
Jack turned away. A minute ago, he didn't think anything she said could have shocked him more, but that did it. This was not the Sam he knew. All these years... Sam was in control of herself. Wasn't she? The painful realization was sudden and sharp. She had lost control. With someone else. Some stranger? How could she not know? He tried to turn to face her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He stood staring at the wall.
"General O'Neill," Sam said to the back of his head, "What I'm trying to say is that this can't be happening, but it is." She dropped her eyes to her hands, folded across her lap. "Sir, you know that Pete and I broke up almost four months ago. I haven't been with him. I haven't been with anyone. I'm six weeks pregnant, but I haven't had sex for...months."
Turning, Jack glanced at her searchingly, but she remained with her eyes cast down. "Sam..." His voice trailed off as he tried to take in what she was saying. Her eyes closed and her hand rose to her lips.
"Permission to be excused," Sam said hurriedly as she bolted from the room.
Sam barely made it to the latrine before the nausea overcame her. She didn't know whether her morning sickness was becoming evening sickness, or if the realization of what Jack must think of her had turned her stomach. How could she expect him to believe this, when she could barely believe it herself?
After a few minutes, she was able to stand, clean up, and make her way back to the General's office. "Come in," he called when she knocked. Seeing it was her, O'Neill resumed what he was doing and pulled a bottle from the locked drawer of his credenza. He poured the tan liquid into a mug on his desk and took a long, slow drink. "I'd offer you some, but I believe that's considered unwise in your condition," he said dryly. They sat silently staring at one another.
"Let's start from the beginning," he said. "How do you know you're pregnant?"
"Pregnancy test," she replied levelly.
"Those can be wrong."
"I know, Sir. So when it came up positive, I went to a Women's Clinic in town. I…I didn't want this on my medical records. The doctor examined me, and at my insistence, also did an ultrasound. There's no question, Sir. I'm pregnant." Carter found herself staring at her hands again.
"Carter, I have to ask," Jack began, cautiously. "Is there any chance that you might have been...in a position to forget?"
Carter brought her eyes to his face, perplexed. "What do you mean, Sir?"
"Maybe you...had a little too much to drink? Maybe someone slipped you something?" he asked, as gently as one can ask such a question.
"General, in the past six weeks, aside from grocery shopping, I have been precisely three places." Sam counted on her fingers. "Home. Here at the SGC. Off-world with my team. I haven't set foot in a bar, a restaurant, or a dark alley."
"Unless your middle name is Mary, Our Lady of Wormholes," he said decisively, "something had to happen that you don't remember. So if those are the only places that you've been, those are the places the investigation begins."
"What do you intend to investigate, Sir?" she asked in surprise.
"For one, we need to find out if you were drugged. Correct me if I'm wrong, but can't hair testing determine whether there were drugs in your system, even if it was months ago?" She nodded her agreement.
"Secondly," he continued, "if you've only been in the company of the people on this base, then we have to face the fact that a member of the SGC could be responsible for this. We need to find out how soon a paternity test can be done. You know the medical corp. has DNA samples on all members of SGC in positions that may involve combat duty."
"I'm just not sure what that will accomplish." Hopelessness was beginning to seep through in her tone. Jack crossed to her chair, and reaching down, lifted her face until her eyes met his.
"I believe what you are telling me. What this means is that you were violated. I'm going to find who did this." The intensity of his gaze was too much for Sam; tears came to her eyes. Jack knelt down, pulled her head to his shoulder, and let her cry.
Sam wiped her cheeks and leaned back in her chair. She felt spent, but less afraid. Leave it to O'Neill to find a plan for action in any crazy circumstance. "I've just been so stunned by this that I haven't been able to focus on how it might have happened," she said absently, as if to herself.
O'Neill left Sam's side to pour her a glass of water. He was torn between the compassion he felt for her and a growing rage. Someone, very possibly someone under his command, had violated what he held sacrosanct. It wasn't just an issue of trust. It wasn't just honor. It was Sam.
Sam took the glass O'Neill was handing her and rolled it between her hands distractedly. "I think we are overlooking a possibility," she said. "What if this is the result of some sort of alien…well, technology, for lack of a better word?"
"Impregnated by aliens! The Enquirer will pay big bucks for your story," O'Neill quipped. "And what exactly would be the aliens' goal in getting you knocked up, Carter?"
"I don't know, but that comes with the territory, doesn't it? Stranger things have happened in the SGC, Sir."
"What do you suggest we do?" O'Neill asked.
"Wait. I think that's all we can do…" Carter trailed off.
As though seeing her thoughts, O'Neill offered, "There is another option open to you, Carter."
She paused, pensively considering the situation. Finally, she spoke with a tenuous resolve. "I don't know how or why this has happened. I can't decide what to do about it until I know."
"Okay," the General agreed. "Then let's do what we can to find out. Start with the drug test. Send it to a commercial laboratory as an anonymous subject, and I'll sign off on the expense."
"So you believe we can keep this confidential, Sir?" Sam asked hopefully.
"For the time being, at least. I'll do the best I can. I think some time off is in order, don't you? I'll arrange some downtime for your team."
"With all due respect," Carter jumped in quickly, "the doctor said that it was fine to continue with all my normal activities. I would rather continue to work, General."
"With all due respect to the good doctor," Jack replied, "I don't think he understood that traveling to other planets and engaging sadistic snakeheads were part of your 'normal activities.'"
"Sir," she said with desperation, "what is the worst case scenario? That I could lose a child that shouldn't even exist?" O'Neill stared her down. "Please," Sam entreated, "I need to do my job."
Jack felt himself relenting against his will. He was afraid that was not the worst case scenario. He would rather have kept her under his own watchful eye. But he knew Carter was suffering enough indignities. She needed the stability, if you could call it that, of her work.
"Under one condition," he said firmly. "You tell Daniel and Teal'c. I want them looking out for you."
"But, Sir!" Carter objected.
"No arguments, Carter. Tell or time off. Your decision." He knew what her decision would be.
Carter had asked Jack to come with her for moral support. But somehow it was making this even harder. He stood in the corner, arms folded, looking somewhat less than encouraging. She sat across the conference table from Daniel and Teal'c, staring in silence. She poured and sipped her water slowly to buy time.
"Uh, Sam," Daniel began in that pleasant but grating tone he has when he feels something is a waste of his time, "I was, umm, kind of busy in my office. Can we, you know, move things along here? Please?"
"Just give her a minute, Daniel," Jack snapped.
"Something…impossible has happened," Sam began. She stopped, rubbed her eyes, and sighed. "I guess there's no other way to say this." She looked into each of their eyes. "I'm pregnant."
Though looking somewhat perplexed, Teal'c immediately offered his congratulations on this "wonderful blessing." Daniel shot Jack a suspicious look.
"Whoa!" Jack said putting up his hands in a defensive gesture. "She hasn't gotten to the impossible part yet."
Daniel turned to eye Sam. "What does that mean?"
Sam's eyes were in her lap again. She couldn't believe she was saying this again. With another heaving sigh, she caught Daniel's gaze and said directly, "I haven't had sex."
Daniel blinked and stared. "Immaculate conception?" he asked in amazement.
"No, not necessarily," Carter responded. "The General feels that I may have been drugged. We're doing testing, but in the meantime…"
"In the meantime," Jack interrupted, "Colonel Carter has requested permission to continue working. I agreed, on the condition that you two will watch out for her. She wanted to keep this matter confidential, but as you know, she has the utmost trust in you."
"As may you, O'Neill," Teal'c replied. "You may be certain that I will protect Colonel Carter. Do you not agree, Daniel Jackson?"
"Ahh, yes, Teal'c," Daniel said, shaking off his confusion. "Yes, of course."
"Don't protect me too much, guys," Sam said, mustering a smile. "I can still take care of myself. General O'Neill is just being…cautious." Overprotective, she thought. Ridiculous also came to mind. "I know this is a lot to take in, but until we know what is going on, let's just stay focused on the job."
Sam stayed more than focused. She thought of nothing but her job for the next few days. Working in her lab for long hours, barely eating or sleeping, she didn't have to feel. The truth was, she didn't know how to feel. O'Neill's words kept running through her head. You were violated. Part of her didn't want to admit the possibility, wanted to believe instead in a miracle. In all, it was too confusing and painful to think about, and she would have been glad to get off-world, as far away from her thoughts as possible.
Soon, she would be forced to confront the situation. Five days after she ordered the test, the hair analysis results arrived. The lab labeled the test inconclusive, but to Carter it revealed a lot. Initial testing returned a false positive for gammahydroxybutyric acid, the CNS depressant called GHB. Upon further examination, it appeared to be a substance chemically similar to GHB, but the lab was unable to match it to any known pharmaceutical signature. It was enough. Enough to tell her someone had drugged her, she had been violated.
When Sam explained the results to O'Neill, his only response was to ask how soon DNA testing could begin.