"I can't do it anymore!"
The Colonel looked particularly peeved as he huffed into her lab, slamming a stack of files thick as a telephone book onto her desk.
"What is it you can't do anymore, Sir?"
"Read another word of these personnel files. We have newbies coming in. Isn't that swell?"
"Actually seems like there might be some interesting reads, sir."
"You would think so. As it turns out, they're all pretty much the same. The academy, the degree, the promotion. Bah."
"Is that what you thought when you read my file?"
"Carter, I can't even understand half of what's in your file."
"Ah."
"Anyway. I need a break, you need a break. Let's go take a break."
She certainly was not ready for a break. But damn, he was pulling that one grin, and how could she say no? She sighed in surrender and chuckled.
"Tell you what, Sir. How about I finish this simulation and you finish a few more personnel files, and then we can have all the lunchtime cake and Jello we can handle?"
"I'll take that deal," the Colonel replied, sinking down onto Sam's lab bench. He began shuffling through the files, hunting out the least dull read to tide him over until cake-time. As the sound of Carter's fervent typing filled the lab, he selected the file of one Jonas Hanson, an incoming Major to take over SG-9. He read through Hanson's academic history and service record, noting his apparent leadership skill and numerous instances of classified warfare. Odd. Jack knew most black-ops guys, having served with the majority of them. Then again, Hanson was considerably younger than him. Perhaps they'd just missed each other. He flipped through the medical history until he arrived at the personal history section and froze as one name instantly screamed at him from the page: Samantha Carter, USAF. He tried to ignore the feeling of ice slipping into his stomach.
"Uh, Carter…"
"Yes, Sir?" she asked absently, not looking up from the computer screen.
"Does the name Jonas Hanson ring a bell?"
That got her attention. Her eyes snapped to his, fierce and confused.
"What?"
"Jonas Hanson."
"Is he…..is he transferring to the SGC?" The Colonel was surprised to hear her voice take on an almost meek tone. If Jack didn't know her better, he'd say she was she was terrified of his answer.
"Taking over SG-9."
"Oh my god….I take it I'm in there, then?" She nodded to the file.
"Fiancée?"
She swallowed. "I ended it a month before the wedding. Haven't seen him since. I'll be able to work with him just fine, sir. It won't be a problem," she said resolutely, trying to convince herself as much as her CO.
"You heartbreaker, you. If you're in his file, why wasn't he in yours?"
"I was quieter about the engagement. I didn't even tell my dad until months later, let alone the Air Force. If you don't mind me asking, sir, how did he get connected with the SGC?" What she really wanted to ask was, how in the hell did anyone decide that he was sane enough to get near Cheyenne Mountain?
"Apparently one of the Marines knows him from the Gulf and some black-ops stuff. Was pretty impressed with his, shall we say…dedication."
"He is that, sir." If by dedication you mean obsession.
"Carter, if you think we should reconsider him being here, just say so. I'm sure Hammond will listen."
She paused for a long moment before responding. While Jonas may have been manipulative and unstable within the confines of Sam's apartment, she'd seen him in the field. And for all his personal faults, he was still a perfectly capable officer. He was intelligent and charismatic enough to lead anyone anywhere. In fact, his excellence as an officer made the gradual reveal of his personal shortcomings all the more difficult to reconcile.
"It's not that, Sir. He's great officer, actually. It'll just take some getting used to, seeing him around the base," she said, as she returned her gaze to her laptop.
Jack also did not relish the idea of Carter's ex slinking around the halls of the SGC.
"Well, we can always sic Teal'c on him," he said lightheartedly, at odds with the hard, flinty look in his eyes.
"Sic Teal'c on who?" Daniel asked cheerily, practically bouncing into Sam's lab.
"Jonas is transferring here. And I don't think that will be necessary, Sir, but I'll keep it in mind."
"Jonas Hanson?" Clearly, Daniel knew enough about their history to be disgusted by Jonas' presence.
"How do you know about him?"
"We talk," Daniel stated, glancing at Sam, as if this was the most obvious thing in the universe. Jack's mood was plummeting by the second.
"When are they due to arrive, sir?"
"Two weeks."
Sam nodded, resolutely turning back to her computer screen. Jack could almost taste her tension. He sent a pleading look in Daniel's direction.
"Sam, I'm sure—" Daniel started, before Sam abruptly cut him off.
"How about that lunch? Daniel, you coming?"
"Uh, sure."
And there was no more talk of Jonas Hanson.
Two weeks later, the new recruits arrived on base. Sam spotted them in the commissary, in the gym, in the halls…but had yet to run into Jonas. Three days past their arrival date, Sam found herself feeling increasingly on edge. The pit in her stomach grew larger every time she ventured out of her lab, because what if this was it? What if the elevator doors opened to reveal Jonas' self-righteous smirk? What if she walked around a corner and he was there?
She hated that the mere knowledge of his presence was making her feel this way, like she was 22 years old again, star of the the Academy but desperate to prove herself, to be valuable, and just maybe to be understood as more than the blonde who won all the awards. Jonas had made her feel so understood, like he could see into all her fears and insecurities and knew exactly how to save her from them. It took her longer she'd care to admit to figure out that he wasn't saving her from anything. She was his beautiful prize, and he would do anything to keep her tangled up in his life. He fed her insecurity, painting himself as the only one who could possibly understand her, tried to make her as dependent on him as he was on her. Finally, he'd called up her friends, cancelling the upcoming plans Sam had set with them, and claimed it was because she needed to be present in their relationship. She'd had enough. The way he had tried to physically restrain her during that final fight had been all the confirmation she'd needed.
In the intervening years since she left him, she'd convinced herself that he didn't have any more power over her. After all, she had done it, she had gathered the nerve and walked out on him, never looking back. Shouldn't that count for something? Yet here she was, taking shelter in her lab and trying to ignore the fact that lunchtime was passing and her already-anxious stomach was not happy about it. Time to face it. She couldn't hide forever. Better to just get it over with. She was just starting to save her work on her laptop when there was a knock on her door. Instantly, her throat went dry and the pit in her stomach plummeted. Had he found her lab?
"Come in," she rasped out.
She visibly relaxed when the door opened to reveal a much more welcome face. Jack O'Neill.
"Sir, hi."
"Hey." He walked in, leaving the door halfway open. "So…" he perched on an empty lab stool. "The new guys are all in the commissary. Thought you might want the heads up."
"Thank you, sir. But its okay. I was just about to head up there."
He gave her a disbelieving look. "Look, Carter, maybe its not totally my business, but you've barely left this room in three days. At some point, you leaving this room does become my business. Believe me, I get it. All I'm saying is…its lunchtime. Let's go eat."
Somehow, the thought of going to the commissary with the Colonel made that pit in her stomach much lighter. You don't have to do everything alone, Sam, she thought to herself in a voice that sounded strangely like her father's.
She took a deep breath, barely bothering to hide how hard she was trying to stabilize her emotions. Something about this moment felt safe.
"I have no idea what I'll say to him."
"Its the commissary, Carter. The most you'll have to say to him is pass the salt."
"Yeah. Yeah, You're right. Sorry for being so out of touch lately."
"I know its a strange situation. You do what you need to do."
"What I need to do is get it over with."
"Then let's eat, Captain."
"Yes, sir."
With that, she shut down her laptop and they walked towards the elevator, taking it up to the commissary. Both were silent. Sam felt too on edge to make small talk with her CO. As they approached to commissary doors, Sam suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Her mouth was dry and her hands were shaking. She just couldn't believe that he was here, Jonas, barging into her new, beautiful life. This was her home. She was strong, confident, accomplished—Jonas had no place here. Not among her friends that were rapidly becoming family. He belonged with that insecure 22 year old, an identity she had walked out of as surely as she had walked out on him. He was some awful ghost, symbolizing everything she had defeated, the person she used to be, the life she had escaped. She had built something wonderful here. And, of course, he would show up to ruin it. The moment she walked through those doors and saw him, it became real. His presence would become real. The process of destruction would begin, because that's what he does.
"Carter?"
"Sorry, sir. I just need a second."
"Course, Carter. Look, for whatever it's worth, if he messed things up with you, he was an ass. And I see you face down Goa'uld overlords practically every week. What's one asshole guy compared to that?"
She turned to look at her CO. His face was so open, so genuine. He believed in her in an obvious way that had nothing to do with him— and everything to do with her. And it anchored her. Because she wasn't 22 anymore, and she wasn't afraid or insecure. And she'd be damned if she let Jonas Hanson walk into her home and tarnish even the smallest piece. This was her place. He was just a newcomer. She had come so far, done so much, and she had thought he had finally caught up to her. But, she realized now, she had never been outrunning him. Everything she had accomplished had been for her—not for him. If their paths intersected here, so be it. He was welcome to witness her at her best.
"Thank you, sir. For doing this with me."
"Always got your back, Carter. After you."
She pushed open the commissary doors, scanned the room, and spotted him in the far corner. Instantly, his eyes found hers, as if he had been waiting for her. For his target. She resolutely looked away and made her way to the chow line, head held high, trying to ignore her hammering heart. She could feel his eyes burning into her back. But more importantly, she also felt the overwhelming sense of his irrelevance. She and the Colonel got their food and found a table, with Sam's back toward Jonas. To his credit, the Colonel was doing a great job of disguising the dark look in his eye with light, playful discussion as to why none of the planets they'd visited had tropical beaches.
"I'm just saying, why so many deserts? What's the appeal? There's gotta be some beautiful beaches out there, right?"
She giggled. "I'm sure we'll come across some eventually, sir."
She could almost feel him approaching. "Well, if it isn't Sam Carter."
She turned and looked him square in the eye.
"Jonas. Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain."
"Pleasure's all mine, Captain. It's quite the operation you have going here." His eyes were locked on her, like a snake to prey. But she was no longer his to prey upon.
"We have our moments," she said, the picture of calm.
"I'm sure you do," he said silkily. She didn't so much as bat an eye.
"I'll be seeing you, Hanson. I hope you get settled in well. SG-9 is great team. I'm sure you'll fit right in." With that, she turned her back on him, making sure to display her SG-1 patch clearly.
"Be seeing you, Sam." And he walked out of the commissary.
Sam let out a breath. Jonas Hanson hadn't been her problem for years. And he wasn't about to be her problem now. She looked at the Colonel, surprised to see his face so dark. He watched Jonas exit the commissary, looking every bit the seasoned black ops officer Sam knew him to be but so rarely glimpsed. As the doors swung shut, he seemed to shake it off and looked back to her.
"So, say we do find a beach planet. Think Hammond would let us bring jet skis through? For, you know, research purposes?"
She stifled a laugh, and Jonas' shadow seemed to evaporate from the room.
"I hope so, sir."