Slight spoilers for Children of the Gods, Emancipation and Broca Divide, all in Season 1.

1980

Thirteen-year-old Samantha Carter slid into her desk in Mr. Kelley's eighth grade homeroom just as the bell rang signaling the start of the school day. She looked around the room, grinning at her friends, some of whom she hadn't seen all summer. Nikki had a different haircut. Ben had grown a couple of inches. Lila was still mooning over Vince. Most of her friends were Air Force brats, like her. She didn't notice anyone missing – that meant no one's dad had been transferred.

The boy beside her in the next row was a stranger. He was slender and hunched a little bit over his desk. His brown hair was too long and flopped over his ears and forehead, and he wore glasses.

"Hi," she said. "My name's Sam."

He turned partway toward her, reluctant. She saw that his eyes were a clear light blue. He pushed the hair out of his face with a funny, backhand gesture. "Hi," he mumbled.

"You just move here?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Your dad in the Air Force?"

A shake this time.

"Where did you live before?"

"Here."

"You mean here in Springfield?" she asked, puzzled. "How come I never saw you before?"

"Different school."

"Oh. So what's your dad do?"

Shrug. "Work."

Sam hated giving up on conversations, but this one was tough. "Where do you live?"

"Gardner Street."

"So do I!" she said brightly. "What number?"

Another shrug.

"You don't know what number?"

"Six hundred something… I think."

"I live at 507."

He didn't respond to that.

Sam drew a breath. She couldn't think of anything else to ask. Luckily Mr. Kelley cleared his throat just then and quieted the class down. He began calling the roll. The class members answered to their names.

"Daniel Wheeler." Mr. Kelley said.

The boy beside Sam made a sound but Mr. Kelley didn't hear him.

"Daniel Wheeler?" he repeated, looking around the room.

The boy put his hand up. "Here."

"Welcome to James Monroe Junior High, Danny," Mr. Kelley said.

The boy mumbled something in reply.

After a moment, Mr. Kelley went on with the roll call. When he was finished, he stood up and came around to the front of his desk. "I hope you all had a good summer." Most of the kids nodded in response and he went on. "You should all have your class schedule. If anyone didn't get it yet, please see me after the bell rings for first period. Yes, Sal?" he said to the raised hand.

"Mr. Kelley, is Ms. Mahoney still teaching 8th grade English?" A blond boy with a very short haircut looked a bit apprehensive.

"Yes, I believe she is, Sal. Why?"

"English is my first class," Sal mumbled. Several students laughed.

Mr. Kelley raised a hand. "Enough. If there's a problem, Sal, stay and I'll see if I can help."

A few other kids asked questions. After about 5 minutes the bell rang. Chairs were shoved back and voices raised in conversation. "Have a good day!" Mr. Kelley called over the noise.

Carrie, one of Sam's friends, appeared at her elbow and started talking. The two girls walked out of the room together. In the crowded hallway, they paused. "What's your first class?" Carrie asked.

"English, with Ms. Mahoney," Sam grinned.

"What a way to start the day," Carrie said. "Mine's math. Oh, I wish you were in my math class!" They compared schedules. "Well, we have history together 4th period. And PE sixth," she said. "Oh, look, study hall in the library last period, too."

"I'll see you in history, then." Sam waved good-bye as her friend started off in one direction, and she turned in the other. Ms. Mahoney, here I come, she thought. As she started off, she noticed the new boy, Daniel, standing by the wall just outside Mr. Kelley's office, looking lost. She went over. "Hi. It's Daniel, right? Can I help you?"

"Thanks," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. "Do you know where room 36 is?"

"Yes. That's where I'm going. Come on." They started down the hall, and Sam kept on talking. "That's Ms. Mahoney's class. You have English first? So do I. That's a good one to get behind you first thing in the day."

"Why?" Daniel asked.

"Ms. Mahoney has been teaching a long time," Sam said, trying to be diplomatic. Like since before the Flood! "She still does things like they did years ago."

"Like what?" he wanted to know.

"Oh, like making you diagram sentences. And look up word meanings."

"Oh."

"And learn grammar rules. She'll give us a grammar quiz every week."

He actually looked slightly interested. "That's how you learn language structure."

"Okay," she looked at him thoughtfully. "I'm guessing you won't have any trouble in Ms. Mahoney's class."

"Do you?"

"No. It's just kind of boring," she admitted. "I'd much rather be in science. This year I'm taking chemistry and biology."

"Biology is on my schedule, but not chemistry," he said.

"Eighth graders all take biology. Not usually chemistry, tho."

"So what makes you special?"

He didn't ask the question in a snotty tone, just as if he wanted to know.

"I'm good at science," she replied after a moment. They had reached room 36. It was already half filled with noisy kids, and several spoke to Sam as she and Daniel entered. "I like to sit near the windows. The light's better." She headed that way and he followed her, and took the desk behind her.

Ms. Mahoney was a small, grey-haired woman in her sixties. She looked tough and disagreeable. She didn't greet the class, merely stood up front looking at them until they quieted, then began calling the roll. Last on the list was Daniel Wheeler.

"Not my name!" Sam heard Daniel mutter in irritation, but he answered anyway.

The rest of the day went as well as the first day of school usually does. Sam saw Daniel again in her history class, but Carrie corralled her, and she didn't get a chance to speak to him. She noticed that he answered a few questions in class, things about the ancient Greeks and Romans that Mr. Ames obviously hadn't expected anyone to know. He was also in her biology class, but he sat in the back of the room, and she was up front. After school she talked to some of her friends for a bit, and then headed home. Her house was only a few blocks away and she always walked. She caught up with Daniel at an intersection; he looked uncertain which way to turn.

"Gardner Street is that way," she said, pointing to the right. "One block over, two blocks up." She started to walk in that direction.

"Why not two blocks up, one block over?" he asked, falling in step with her.

She laughed. "Because that street dead ends, and there's no cross street. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. Why didn't you ride the bus, if you don't know the way?"

"I didn't know which one to take," he admitted. "Besides, I like to walk."

"It's bus number eleven, if you need it some other time."

"Thanks."

They walked in silence until after the left turn onto the next street.

"I saw you in history class," he commented.

"I'm sorry I didn't speak," she said. "My friend Carrie was talking a mile a minute. You did a good job answering Mr. Ames' questions."

"They were easy ones. He seems like a good teacher."

"Yeah, he is. Everybody likes him. He even makes history interesting."

"I love history."

They came to Gardner Street a few minutes later. "My house is down there, at the end of the block," Sam said, pointing left.

"That's mine." Daniel pointed to a grey house kitty-corner from where they stood. "Bye." He headed across the street.

"See you tomorrow." Sam frowned, puzzled. Her parents knew the people who lived in the house Daniel had indicated. Their name was indeed Wheeler, but they'd lived there for years. And they didn't have children. She watched until Daniel went into the house, then started in the direction of home, remembering what she had overheard him say in English class, about Wheeler not being his name. Where had he come from?

She started out for school early the next morning, and loitered along the block until she saw Daniel appear. Then she sped up a little and caught up with him halfway down the next block.

He didn't look happy to see her, and responded in monosyllables to her attempts at conversation. Finally she got exasperated. "Look, if you want to be by yourself, just say so. I'll leave you alone."

He really looked at her for the first time, pushed his hair aside with the back of his hand. "Sorry," he said. "My day didn't start very well. I got in trouble for staying up late reading. And then I didn't wake up on time. Not your fault."

"I like to read late, too. My Dad gets all over me about it. What were you reading?"

"A Latin book."

"Seriously? In Latin?"

"Yes."

"You can read Latin?"

He nodded. "I like languages."

"But, Latin?!"

"A lot of English is based on Latin," he pointed out.

"Yeh, I know that." She was quiet for a few paces. "I can read a little French."

"That's good. I speak French. And German." The way he said it implied that it was nothing unusual.

"Where'd you learn that?"

"My parents."

"Your parents taught you French and German?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded. "Yes, they did."

She turned and looked him in the eyes; he was not lying.

Sam didn't know what to say. She didn't really know much about the Wheelers, but she was pretty sure they didn't speak any foreign languages. Still, it would be really rude to contradict Daniel. Besides, she liked him and didn't want to make him mad at her.

The second day of school went pretty much like the first. Classes were boring or annoying or challenging. Carrie was as talkative as ever. The rest of her friends were full of the usual talk about boys and clothes and homework. Funny how fast a routine got hold of you, Sam thought.

She noticed how smart Daniel sounded in English and history classes, and how he stared silently out the window in biology. She also noticed that he almost never talked to any of the other kids.

Sam and Daniel continued to walk to and from school together most of the time. She still did nearly all the talking and his answers to her questions were usually brief and uninformative, but he seemed content to walk with her. By the end of the second week, she didn't really know much more about him than she had the first day.

On Tuesday of the third week, Sam's mom picked her up from school because she had a dentist appointment. Afterward they went to the supermarket. On the way home, they passed the Wheelers' house.

"Mom," Sam asked, "You and Dad are friends with the Wheelers, right?"

"Not close friends, but yes, I guess so." Sam's mom pulled the car into their driveway, and they started unloading the groceries.

"There's a new boy in my class," Sam said. "His name is Daniel. He lives with the Wheelers."

Grace Carter looked at Sam in surprise. "Really?"

"They don't have any kids, do they?"

"No." Grace shook her head. She handed Sam the last grocery bag and closed the car's hatchback.

Sam followed her mom into the house and helped her put the food away. "You know, it was funny, Mom. On the first day of school they called the roll and called his name. Daniel Wheeler. And I heard him say, sort of under his breath, Not my name!" She closed the refrigerator, and turned around. "I've been wondering what he meant."

Grace was looking at her daughter seriously. "Sam, I think the Wheelers have taken a foster child."

"Daniel is a foster kid?"

"It sounds like it. Kay Wheeler was saying early in the summer that they were thinking about it. I haven't seen her in a while. But it sounds like that's what happened."

"Oh." Sam thought a minute. "Well, that explains it. His name wouldn't be Wheeler, would it?"

"I wouldn't think so."

"But they should use his real name at school." It bothered Sam that Daniel wasn't given his own name. "That explains something else, too."

"What's that, dear?"

"Daniel reads Latin. And he speaks French and German. He told me his parents taught him. He must have meant his real parents. Why do you suppose he doesn't live with them...?"

She did not get a chance to find out the answer to that question. The next day, and the next, Daniel was not in school. When he was also absent on Friday, Sam hung back after homeroom, and asked Mr. Kelly about him.

"Danny isn't coming back," Mr. Kelly told her. He'd noticed that she was friendly with the new boy. "He's changed schools. I'm sorry, Sam. I really can't say any more than that."

"Okay. Thanks, Mr. Kelly."

She left the room and headed for English class thinking she was sorry to see Daniel go; she would miss him.

1997

Captain Samantha Carter was self-conscious as she entered the SGC cafeteria. She'd stayed in her lab most of the day—she was doing that a lot lately! Less than a month with SG-1, and she'd managed to make an idiot of herself at every turn! First there was that embarrassing scene in the briefing room when she met the team—she'd been so knocked out by meeting Col. O'Neill—God, every female atom in her body had gone haywire! And then the planet Simarka, where women were property, and she was kidnapped and sold! Then she got the Broca virus; just the thought of that made her blush all over.

If she hadn't been starving, she wouldn't have come to the cafeteria at all.

She pushed open the door and made a beeline for the food line. But of course she'd seen the colonel sitting over there talking to Teal'c and Major Harmon. It felt as if his eyes were boring into her back as she hurried down the line, grabbing the first things she could reach. At the end she glanced at her tray; mashed potatoes, pulled pork and blue jello! She cringed.

Turning around, she looked around for a seat. The colonel was giving his attention to Teal'c, thank goodness. There weren't many empty tables. Then she caught sight of Dr. Jackson, sitting alone on the opposite side of the room. They'd seemed to get along all right so far, and she felt sad for him because his wife had been taken by the Goa'uld. She headed his way.

He didn't see her coming. He was bending over a notebook on the table, pen in hand, his hair falling over his forehead into his eyes. She stopped at the table.

"Hi," she said. "Is it okay if I sit here?

He jumped, startled, looked up at her. "Oh. Hi. Sure, I guess so." He pushed his hair out of his face with an odd backhanded shove.

Sam's jaw dropped, and then she smiled the brightest smile Daniel had ever seen. "Oh my God! It's you!" she exclaimed.

He blinked, glanced around. Several people were looking their way. "Uh-huh. Yeah? So?"

She put her tray down, and sat, still smiling. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"Sure. You're Captain Carter. Saw you this morning."

She laughed. "No. No! I mean from... what, probably sixteen, seventeen years ago. Springfield. James Monroe Junior High?"

Daniel was staring at her blankly. "Sorry. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Guess you made more of an impression on me than I did on you," she said wryly. "Springfield, Maryland. My Dad was stationed at Baker Air Field from 1979 til 1981—it must have been one of those years. You were in my class for just a few weeks, at the beginning of the year and then you moved away. Eighth grade, I think. You lived on the same street we did, and we walked to and from school together a few times."

Daniel was frowning. "Okay. I sort of remember. The talkative girl. That was you?"

"Yeh. I guess I was pretty talkative back then." She was beginning to get the idea that he wasn't interested in old times. "Sorry. I just always wondered what happened to you."

"I moved, I guess. Why would you remember me so well? I couldn't have been there more than three weeks or so."

"Oh." Now Sam wasn't sure what to say. "You were living with our neighbors. The Wheelers? Anyway, that first day at school the teacher called you Daniel Wheeler, and I heard you mutter something about it not being your name..." She sort of trailed off, squirming nervously. "I just always wondered about you, that's all."

"Why? What did the school tell you about me?" He sounded faintly hostile.

"Nothing! The school didn't say anything. Just that you had moved. But, my mom... well, she told me the Wheelers were fostering you." He didn't say anything, so she went on. "It was you, then."

"Yeah. It was me."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to upset you. I was just really excited when I recognized you. That gesture you make pushing up your hair—you did the same thing back then... Wow, I just really can't keep my foot of my mouth around here!" The last was a response to the eye roll he gave her. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

"It's okay." His expression had cleared. "It was a long time ago. I remember you now, but I really didn't until you reminded me. There were... well, a lot of foster homes, a lot of schools. Yeh. I remember Springfield. I was there for over three years. "

"Not with the Wheelers."

"No. First I was with a cousin of my mom's. But that didn't work out, so they put me back in the foster system." Daniel glanced up at her, could see the questions she was holding herself back from asking. "My parents were killed when I was nine. I was with foster parents in New York for a couple of years, and then this cousin surfaced down in Maryland. They sent me there. I was a problem, I didn't adjust very well. No one kept me very long. The Wheelers had me for two months, and then they realized they couldn't do it. I don't really blame them. I didn't make it easy."

"Really? I can't imagine you giving people trouble."

"I try not to now," he admitted.

"You seemed pretty quiet back then," she said. "I liked you."

"You didn't know me long enough." He grinned.

"I'm sorry about your parents," Sam said. "My mom was killed that next summer, so I can understand. I was no fun to live with."

"Thanks," he said. "I'm sorry I wasn't nicer to you back then. We might've been friends." Daniel gestured at the tray in front of her. "Your lunch is probably getting cold. What is that anyway?"

She poked her fork into the grease congealing on the pork, and laughed. "Ugh. Cold barbeque. Cold potatoes. Maybe the jello is decent!" She grabbed her spoon and took a bite. "Not bad. I could actually learn to like this!"

The two of them laughed together.

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I wiggled Sam and Daniel's ages a bit, so they're about the same age in the story.