What if...

author : Kaira195

beta-reading : Sammie 77, with all my thanks

rating : K for now

first upload : 2011.08.31

Next upload : Gee... not for quite some time I'm afraid. Depends if you ask nicely ! ;)

Comments : my very first English-written fanfic ! I'm French and I learned all on my own so please be kind.

Have a nice read.

General Hammond read the same paragraph of SG-10's mission report for the third time without seeing it.

He should have been relieved ; after weeks spent anguishing over SG-1's whereabouts, only to discover they weren't lost in an artic-like blizzard and freezing temperatures, but held captive by the indigenous civilization of the planet, because, as always -and he couldn't keep a smile from illuminating his face for the briefest of moments at the idea- they'd proven to be a little too nosy ; they'd finally gotten back home safe and sound, although a little tired from having been treated like slaves for the better part of the month. Given the unusual circumstances, and the fact that Teal'c had been particularly affected because of the unique nature of his physiology (although he would have never admitted it, as the other three didn't fail to stress out in their own mission reports), Hammond had decided to give the entire team a week off to recuperate - as Dr. Frasier had advised.

As expected, Colonel O'Neill had greeted the order with gratitude. He wasn't getting any younger, and although he didn't like to talk about it much, he'd suffered some rather severe injuries while on Black Ops which had left their marks. His knees and back just weren't what they used to be. In fact, Hammond thought, were it in any other base, Jack O'Neill would have been assigned to paperwork duties and training supervision only. However, he was pretty sure the colonel would rather be a slave on a foreign planet with all his memories erased and all his joints killing him all year long rather than be assigned paperwork. Again, a smile flashed briefly over the old general's features. Although he tried to remain as impartial as possible when it came to the people under his command, it was hard for him to not feel some sense of endearment for his flagship team, and all its members' little... ''specificities''.

Teal'c, being made to feel like he wasn't the one crippling his team and preventing it from being cleared for offworld missions, as his teamates had suggested, had only bowed in respectful acceptance when Hammond had broken the news.

Daniel, of course, had insisted that he was fine, and that he could actually use that time to do some catching up on some translations and research he'd been conducting on base. Hammond would have objected, had he not known that the archeologist had just as many books and research material at home as on base. If was going to research some obscure dialects and long extinct civiizations because there was some link to what one of the other exploratory teams had discovered offworld, he might as well do it within the secure confines of the SGC. All Hammond had been able to do was advise the young man to try and not over-exert himself, which he knew would have been a total waste of his breath, had it not been for Colonel O'Neill instructing Teal'c to make sure «Danny boy brushed his teeth and got to bed before ten every night», if Hammond could recall his exact worlds. The tall jaffa had raised a perplex eyebrow, seemingly not getting the reference, but had still rephrased in his own words, with a slight bow : "I will make sure Daniel Jackson gets proper rest, if that is what you are implying, O'Neill."

The colonel had thanked him with a firm tap on the shoulder, to reassure him he had indeed well understood.

It was most amazing to see how this team interacted, General Hammond had told himself on more than one occasion. It was unique, and rather predictible -although he kept this part to himself for on more than one occasion now it had been very predictible indeed that his flagteam was about to do something he was not supposed to approve of, and much less sanction.

However, since this time there had seemed to be no harm in following the team's ritual appreciation (or lack thereof) of their commanded leave like a play that would have been rehearsed a good thousand times, everyone in the room had turned to major Carter expectantly, waiting for her to take her turn in protesting that she also had a number of alien devices to examine, which she had been kept from for far too long while they were stranded on the planet... even if they'd not exactly been taking lazy sips at their glass of margarita while sunbathing on endless beaches of white sand.

But Major Carter had kept very quiet. She'd seemed to wait for the usual conversation to pass, staring absent-mindedly at the briefing table like she'd suddenly found something absolutely fascinating there, evidently hoping no one would notice her lack of participation. That was a rather dumb assumption for her to make, had she realized when silence thick as moss had descended upon the little group, four pair of eyes staring unapologetically at her with concerned scrutiny. She tried and faked to suddenly notice it.

"Oh! I was actually hoping I could use that time to visit my brother, if that's ok'' she lied shippishly.

Hammond noticed the concerned glances being quickly exchanged around her after that statement, which told him everything he ought to know : nobody was buying her explanation, not even for a second. However, since after all it was nobody's business what any officer intended to do on their down time, all three men had frozen stiff, reluctant to push the issue further. After a quick assertion of his own role on that matter, the general had opted for an open question :

"Is everything alright, major? " He asked in a smooth, fatherly tone, not quite managing to conceal the concern in it though.

Sam steadied stiff, eyes widened, obviously uneased by the inquiry. But she quickly managed to recompose herself (so quickly in fact that it would have probably fooled anyone but the four men standing in the room and her own father), and answered with a large smile :

"Yes, sir. Why wouldn't it be ? "

As he had feared, Sam had slammed shut the open door he had offered. If there was anything, she obviously wasn't willing to share it yet. With a slight sigh, Hammond had resigned himself to patience : if it had something to do with SGC business, he ought to know sooner or later.

"Alright then. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir!" Sam had sharply saluted as if he'd been addressing her specifically.

And before anyone else could have said anything, she'd disappeared out of the room without somewhat of a single look back.

Concerned glances had been exchanged once again, with unconcealed intensity.

"What the hell was that all about?" Daniel spoke everyone's mind.

"Beats me," Jack tried to shrug off, but his chocolate-brown eyes betrayed him to the keen eyes his teamates had developed for one another's tales.

"Major Carter's behavior seemed indeed disturbingly unlike her," Teal'c wisely agreed.

"Daniel ?" Jack called.

He hadn't needed to say one more word ; it was unofficially acknowledged by all that, as the ''diplomat'' of the team, always ought to be the one sent to poke about in uncomfortable situations, whether they had to do with alien contacts or, at times, with the internal integrity of the team.

"Already on my way," the archeologist had approved, gathering his things in a hurry, before almost running into the passing personnel in the staircase out of the briefing room.

Hammond noticed a rather self-satisfied grin flashing through O'Neill's display of concern : he was sure the colonel must have thought there was something to be said for not having to deal with these sort of situations - his handling of which had become almost legendary- by himself : not only was it not his strongest skill, he ... well frankly : he hated it.

"Well," Hammond had concluded, somewhat feeling like an intruder in the little's group dynamic, "I'm sure if Major Carter does turn out to be having any trouble that could potentially affect her work at the SGC, she won't fail to report it. In the meantime, you're all dismissed."

That had been 4 days ago. As it had turned out, Major Carter had left the base before had even had a chance to catch up to her. And the general had preferred not to ask if he intended to pursue her off base as well, seeing as clearly she didn't want to be found.

Then, this very morning, she'd phoned directly to the SGC and asked if they could meet in private. As he could feel she was reluctant to discuss any more details over the phone, Hammond had accepted without hesitation. She was due to arrive any minute now...

Three sharp knocks on the door had him extracted rather abruptly from his thoughts.

"Yes?"

Sergeant Harriman's uncertain figure squeezed itself in the ajar door. He cleared his throat before announcing :

"Sir, Major Carter is here for your, hum...'' He trailed off ; he wasn't sure what to call it exactly, never yet had he seen the major report without her three comrads. "... Meeting, as scheduled."

"Have her come in," the general simply nodded, gesturing to the seats in front of his desk.

As ordered, the sergeant opened the door further, letting a disturbingly pale Carter, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a beige raincoat, and clinging to her red purse as if her life depended on it, slide into the entrance to the large office.

"Thank you sergeant, that'll be all," Hammond said to Harriman.

Understanding immediately his presence was no longer desired, the sergeant saluted :

"Yes sir." And he instantly disappeared, closing the door behind him.

Hammond turned to his guest :

"By all means, major," he invited politely, gesturing to the two chairs in front of him. "Have a seat."

She seemed to relax somewhat at his smooth, enciting tone. And quickly obeyed.

"Thank you, sir," she smiled sheepishly.

After considering her frail and mute stature for a few moments, he decided he ought to get down to business right away. Staring her intently in the eyes with his piercing blue gaze, he asked gently :

"I take it you must have a rather important and personal matter to discuss, for you to be sitting here without your teammates, in civilian clothing, and on one of your off-duty days.

Realizing she was indeed rarely wandering the base in her jeans and raincoat, her purse on her shoulder like she was at the mall, Sam felt her cheeks burn up furiously.

"I'm sorry about the clothing, Sir, I came here straight from home and I didn't think... I could go change if you prefered?" she offered automatically, jerking off her seat like she'd be burned.

"At ease, major, it is perfectly fine with me," he reassured her softly, making a dismissing gesture with his hand. "You are, after all, off duty."

Once she'd sat back, he leaned over his desk to try and convey she wasn't in any trouble, he was simply curious as to what this was all about.

"What I would very much like, however, is to know if you're alright," he asserted pointingly.

There was no threat in his tone, only gentle concern. After all, who was he kidding? She was one of his best friend's daughter, and first and foremost one of the best and brightest officers he'd ever had the privilege to have under his command.

Bending her hands with one another frantically, like she was trying to dismantle them, Sam finally resolved to speak :

"I am sorry if I have caused you, or anyone else, worry, General," she managed to squeeze out of her anxiety-striken throat. " It wasn't my intention. As you can imagine, Daniel did stop by at my house, but I pretended not to be there. I felt-"

She paused, trying to find the right words.

"I felt I really needed time on my own to think everything through. But as far as my health is concerned, I am perfectly fine."

Hammond took a few seconds to absorb that bit of information, and felt some relief wash over him. Although he had been pretty sure wouldn't have missed it if there had been anything wrong with major Carter physically when SG1 returned, it was still good news to hear. Unfortunately, it also meant that the heart of the matter at hand, which had Sam fidget mutely on the other side of his desk more nervously than ever, was of a more complex nature.

"I take it it's not your physical health that's been troubling you," General Hammond asked after having drawn a deep breath. Once again, his voice conveyed nothing but unconditionnal support, no judgement. "Am I to assume it has anything to do with SG1's last mission?"

He could almost immediately see the shift in her eyes when resolve kicked in.

"Yes sir ... " she answered automatically.

She swallowed dryly.

"... and with every mission I've been on since I was assigned to SG1, I guess," she added very quickly.

Seeing her commanding officer -well, technically, the commanding officer of her commanding officer- frown with incomprehension, she cut him off before he could ask what could possibly have been wrong for the now almost four years since SG1 had been put together.

"You'll have to forgive me if I'm about to sound bold, General," she announced resolutely. "My mind is almost completely set, but given what's at stake here, I find myself in great need of your advice. And, as tempting as it would be to keep the reasons for the decision that I'm about to share to myself, especially since it might defeat the very purpose I'm going for here, I feel like I owe it to you to be perfectly honest."

She inhaled sharply, as she hadn't allowed herself to do so even once before she was through with that sentence.

General Hammond kept staring at her for a few seconds, trying to process all the information she'd just blurted out. It didn't help much that part of his brain was busy laughing at the reminder of the blatent difference of skill between Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill when it came to the English language, differences that he never failed to notice when proof-reading their mission reports, but still had never appeared so obvious to him than in this very instant. Finally, he let out a loud sigh.

- "You'll have to forgive me Major, but you have me at a complete loss here" he confessed. "What is it exactly we're talking about?"

Here it was, Sam thought, the moment of truth. She'd rehearsed this conversation in her head about a hundred times, and had concluded that there weren't that many ways to put it. She inhaled deeply, before forcing the question out her throat with all the resolve she could gather :

"General, what if I were to resign my commission from the US Air Force military?"