*
*
*
Her lab was exactly the way she'd left it. Files in exactly the same places, laptop still closed, favorite coffee mug – thankfully clean and empty – still sitting by her memo pad, pens cast about the place and print offs of some experiment, the details of which she couldn't recall.
Exactly the way she left it.
That made her feel a little uncomfortable.
"The Colonel refused to have it cleared out."
Sam turned at the familiar voice. "Janet! Hi!" she said, smiling at her friend tentatively.
Janet smiled slightly back, but it was nowhere near the beam of welcome that most people had greeted her with as she'd walked back through the SGC. "Sam, I'll need to give you a thorough examination before I can clear you for 'gate travel," she said, her tone every inch the professional CMO. "As does Dr McKenzie."
She raised her eyebrows. "Dr McKenzie? When has his opinion ever been needed to clear teams for 'gate travel?"
Janet's smile wavered. "In this case, it is required. The General has requested it," Janet added softly, a note of suspicion in her voice.
"Oh." Sam looked back down at the desk quickly to hide her facial response.
The General hadn't mentioned that she would be expected to report to McKenzie. Hammond, after all, was supposed to be under the impression that she'd simply been recruited from somewhere above him – and the details he had been given certainly wouldn't have suggested that Sam needed some time with a professional psychiatrist.
Perhaps Colonel O'Neill had been involved in this particular decision.
"Right. Sure," Sam said, eventually.
"So, I can expect you sometime today?"
"Of course. I have a post-mission briefing in fifteen minutes. I'll come directly after that."
Janet nodded. "Good." She paused before leaving. "It's nice to have you home, Sam. We've missed you."
"Thank you. I've missed you too."
Janet walked off, her heels clipping on the corridor floors and Sam listened intently. The sound was evocative of way too many occasions she'd spent in the infirmary, trying to convince the nurses or whichever teammate who was unharmed, to sneak work in for her.
She edged herself onto a stool and pulled open her laptop, nervously anticipating the briefing Hammond had called for the whole of SG-1. No one had prepared for it – which, she felt, was the whole point. Hammond was no fool. He knew something more had gone on than what she and Colonel O'Neill had told him. It might even be that the psych evaluation had purely been his idea. There was a considerable time lag between when she had left and when the General had been informed of her 'mission', after all.
No doubt there would be a number of awkward silences over the briefing room table as she, the Colonel and Daniel tried to convey to each other what they could say and what they couldn't.
Shit.
Sighing, Sam pressed her hands against her face. She'd known coming back to work would be hard. She'd have to put aside the last few weeks – particularly certain personal aspects of it – and return to, if not the same, then close to the same person she'd been before she'd left.
It wasn't as if she'd had any wild epiphanies while she'd been away. No realizations. No discovery of her 'inner purpose' or anything that clichéd. She just... felt a little different. More relaxed, perhaps, though that was hard to imagine considering what she'd have to go through in ten minutes time.
She needed to talk to Janet. At the moment she didn't know how much she could tell Janet, exactly, and that was something she'd have to think about. She didn't want to put anyone else's careers as risk but if Janet wasn't going to let go on this subject she didn't know what else to do. It was up to Janet.
"Hey, Carter."
She lifted her head from the study of her computer screen. "Sir!" She smiled widely at him.
He grinned right back and came to lean on the lab bench. "Busy?"
"No. Thinking about the briefing. Oh, and I have an appointment with Janet."
"Full physical?"
"Yup."
The Colonel picked up one of her pencils and examined it, before tapping it restlessly on a stack of papers. "Damn, that means mine's coming up."
Sam simply smiled at him. And studied him. She had a hunch that the 'difference' she felt was mostly to do with him. With the air that they'd cleared and the decisions they'd made.
In fact, she was sure of it.
"If we survive the briefing, you want to have lunch? Or maybe cake at some point?" he asked, not looking at her, but at the tip of the pencil.
"Sure," she said casually, though she wasn't feeling casual in the least. "That would be wonderful."
"You must have forgotten what commissary food tastes like, Carter," he replied, dryly, glancing down at his watch. "Come on. We can pick up Daniel and Teal'c on the way. Do you think Hammond will be amused by the image of you as an inept waitress?"
"No, sir."
"Hell. I was hoping to distract him with stories of your surprising ineptitude."
She narrowed her eyes and followed him out of her lab. "I wasn't that bad."
"Sure you were, Carter. You can't be good at everything." He turned to face her as he walked backwards, and smiled broadly to show that he was teasing. As if she didn't already know.
"Sir..." She came to a halt and looked forwards and backwards down the corridor to make sure they were alone.
Sensing she wanted to talk more privately, he came back to her and loosely tucked his hands into his pockets. "Carter?"
She lowered her voice, "Janet mentioned that Dr McKenzie would be giving me a psych evaluation before I can be cleared for 'gate travel and I was wondering..."
The Colonel shifted his head to the right and looked over her shoulder. "You were wondering if that had anything to do with me."
"Yes, sir."
"I might... " He looked down at her, his eyes soft, trying to make sure that she wouldn't be hurt. "I might have suggested to Hammond that maybe it would be a good idea if he made your psych evaluations obligatory."
"Sir?"
He took her elbow lightly and pulled her over to the side of the hallway where they leaned against the wall, waiting for a couple of SFs to pass. Then he continued, holding her gaze as seriously as he had ever done, "Carter, you know you've gotten out of most of your evaluations. And you know you shouldn't.... we shouldn't have let it slide like that. I shouldn't have let it slide – I was the one who told Hammond you were okay, though I knew you weren't."
"I am okay."
"Oh really?"
She dropped her eyes and focused on his collar. "Okay, maybe I... Are you saying they're going to be regular sessions?"
"At least for a while. You obviously need to... talk to someone. And you know what happens when you and I talk." He grinned helplessly and she found herself grinning right back, and biting her lip in embarrassment.
"Yeah. I know." She turned until her back was straight up against the side of the hallway. "Was he... was the General suspicious?"
"Hell, yes," he said emphatically, making her laugh. "We're in for a tough briefing. I only hope he'll accept what we tell him as the most we can give." The Colonel put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "You'll do fine. Maybe you'll enjoy the sessions with McKenzie."
Sam rolled her eyes. "Sure."
Colonel O'Neill grunted in sympathy. "Well, you'll be in good company. Me, Danny and Teal'c will be having more regular sessions, too," he complained.
Her eyebrows shot up. "You will?"
He nodded down the corridor and they started walking again. "It was that or having the possibility of Daniel running off to find himself..."
"Sir!"
*
"What about this Daniel Frakes? What does he remember?"
Sam glanced up at the Colonel to see if he'd let her handle this one. When he nodded very slightly, she turned to the General. "Actually, he remembers very little. When the Goa'uld took over, he repressed Frakes consciousness and so all he can remember was just before Mut implanted him with the symbiote and when he woke up in the hospital. He has... a vague impression of 'doing things', as he put it. For instance, he attended a couple of dinner parties with friends but he can't remember actually being there, or talking. He said it was almost as if he was watching himself from the outside."
"And the cover-up?" Hammond prompted.
"Doctor Fraiser told him evidence suggested he was suffering from some form of amnesia – resulting from trauma to the head received in Luxor the night Mut blended him."
"And he believed that?" Hammond said, looking at all four of them disbelievingly. "He was essentially not himself for two weeks, possibly longer."
Daniel winced. "He certainly seemed to. We told him he had collapsed in Luxor and had been brought to the hospital."
"I think he was willing to believe anything, sir," Colonel O'Neill put in. "The impression I got was that he knew something had gone on, something weird, and desperately wanted something normal to explain it." He shrugged. "He's going to be under psychiatric evaluation by our own people so if anything raises its head, we'll be the first to know."
"And what about Mut's host, Ms Vautour?"
"She is dead. The autopsy reported that a trauma to the head combined with a high voltage electric shock was the cause of death," Teal'c stated.
"A high voltage electric shock?" Hammond questioned, raising his eyebrows and looking at Sam and the Colonel significantly. "That sounds like a zat gun to me."
"Maybourne probably had one, sir," the Colonel said, making a face. "In order to, you know, double cross us."
The General tapped his fingers on the table, eyes narrowed. "I still don't understand how Maybourne got involved."
"Neither do we, sir. Carter was the one who had to deal with him by herself for the first couple of weeks," the Colonel said, grinning at Sam across the table. "But he seemed to have a lot of information, all of it useful. *He* was useful. For once."
"And the symbiotes?"
"There was no trace of them anywhere."
"Which would suggest....?"
The Colonel's pen rolled across the table to his other hand. He picked it up and studied it. "It would suggest that.... Maybourne got them."
"That's what I thought, Colonel."
There was silence in the briefing room while everyone avoided everyone else's eyes.
*
"Blood pressure's a little high."
"It's been a stressful day," Sam explained, trying to catch Janet's eye.
"Mmm." Janet made a note on the clipboard and nodded at the nurse who had performed the majority of the check-up tasks. "Thank you, Lieutenant. You can go to lunch now."
"Yes, Major." The young woman tidied up her tray and pushed it back up against the wall before giving Sam one more wide, toothy smile and escaping between the curtains.
"So?" Sam queried, trying to get Janet to talk to her. All throughout the check-up, the doctor had been quite the professional – and completely unwilling to engage Sam in any kind of normal conversation. Sam had even asked about Cassie and got an unusually clipped, noncommittal response. "Am I clear?"
"We'll see when I get your blood work returned," Janet said, lowering the clipboard and pulling the curtain back along the rails.
Sam's shoulders slumped. "Janet..."
"Sam, I don't want to talk about it here."
"You weren't remotely pissed off when the Colonel went off and did his undercover mission for the Tollen," Sam snapped in irritation.
Janet gave Sam a dark look. "That was different."
"How was it different?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Later, Sam," Janet said. Her expression softened, seeing Sam's alarm. "We'll talk later. When we're not... here."
Suddenly, Sam saw the light. "Oh."
Janet sighed wearily. "Yeah."
So Janet was also suspicious. Crap. Sam had a feeling she was going to have to give this particular friend a little more information than was entirely safe, career-wise.
It sure would be nice to have another woman's opinion, though.
"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight, Sam? Cassie would love to see you and she's going over to stay at a friend's so we can chat without worrying about teenage ears." Janet raised her eyebrows expressively, watching Sam with cool eyes.
"That would be nice, Janet. I haven't had time to stock up at home yet." She rubbed slightly sweaty hands on her pants. "Can I go?"
"That eager to be rid of me?" But it was said with a slight smile.
"The General wants me to drop by McKenzie's office and arrange... appointments or something."
Janet nodded. "That's a good idea. You never know, Sam, you might enjoy it."
"That's what the Colonel said," Sam muttered, sliding down off the bed and rearranging her shirt. "I'm thinking it's unlikely. Daniel's fuming, by the way. He is really not keen on revisiting McKenzie any more than I am."
"He has slightly more reason to be, after the incident with Ma'chello's... bugs." She winced in remembrance, her fingers going to one of her ears. "But McKenzie is a qualified psychiatrist and he's the best we've got."
Sam made a face. "Well... think of me while I'm spilling my guts."
"I'll do that. Have a good day, Sam."
"You too."
Feelingly considerably lighter, Sam left the infirmary. Okay, so she'd get through the sessions with McKenzie. Hell, she'd get through anything in order to keep going through the gate.
"Major Carter!"
Sam came to a halt and turned around. "Hey, Siler, how are you?"
The serious-looking man smiled at her slightly. "I'm good. It's great to have you back. I, ah, have something I need to go over with you. We're having a slight issue with the iris."
She frowned. The General hadn't mentioned anything in the briefing. "Oh? What kind of... Tell you what, drop by my lab this afternoon. I've got an appointment to keep right now."
He nodded. "Certainly, Major. Thank you."
"That's okay. Three o'clock? It's not serious, is it?"
"Oh no. Not at all." He smiled at her and it was probably the most she had ever seen him smile before. "It really is great to have you back," he said, genuinely.
"Er, thanks, Siler. I'm glad to be back."
*
It looked like McKenzie's secretary had gone for lunch already, which wasn't surprising since it was already half past one. Sam hung around in the office for a little while, reading some of the posters on the walls, while really wishing she could be going to collect the Colonel for their lunch/cake date.
Not that was it a date, of course.
Just, you know, an appointment. To eat. Together.
Oh, never mind.
"Can I help you?"
A woman walked into the room and dropped a bundle of files on the secretary's desk, looking at Sam with wide green eyes. She didn't look familiar – but that wasn't really surprising. Sam didn't recognize everyone on base and it wasn't as if she spent a lot of time on this particular floor.
"Yeah, I want to make an appointment with Dr McKenzie."
"Oh... oh... okay. Wait a second." The woman scurried around the desk and began to open and close drawers, obviously searching for something.
Frowning a little, Sam watched her. Maybe she was new, she thought.
She pulled a thick blue book from one of the drawers and opened it. "Oh, I'll bet..." She grinned at Sam warmly and reached over to turn on the computer. "Sorry. Um, I don't usually... I'm Dr Williams, actually." She held out her hand to Sam.
Automatically accepting the hand to shake, Sam's eyebrows rose. "Dr Williams?"
"I've just joined the SGC. I'm to share the workload with Dr McKenzie."
Sam blinked. "Oh. I didn't know that."
The computer had clearly loaded completely and Dr Williams' attention was drawn to the screen. "Ah. Here we go." She clicked on something and poised her fingers over the keys. "What time would be convenient for you?"
"Well, you see, that's the thing. I need to have a session with him to clear me for gate travel so... as soon as possible."
"Right." Her eyes ran swiftly over the screen. "It looks like he has a slot tomorrow. Name?"
"Major Samantha Carter."
Dr Williams' fingers paused dramatically over the keyboard and she looked up again, eyes narrowed. "Major Carter?" She stood up straight and plucked one of the files she'd brought in from the top of the desk and flicked it open, looking at the front page and glancing back up at Sam. "SG-1?
"That's me."
The smile came back. "In that case, it's really nice to meet you. I'll be taking over from Dr McKenzie for your sessions."
"Really?" Sam couldn't hide her grin. No McKenzie? The day suddenly seemed a whole lot brighter. "Wow. That's... great."
"I'm glad you think so. I was concerned that people might not appreciate swapping doctors."
"I don't think it's going to be a problem, Dr Williams," Sam said, trying to keep her tone light.
"I hope not. Anyway, I could probably..." She lifted her eyebrows hopefully. "I don't suppose you want to have a session now?"
"You're free?"
"Well..." She laughed and the corners of her eyes crinkled. "I only started yesterday and all day all I had was the whole... 'welcome to Cheyenne Mountain, here you will find aliens, alien technology and top secret stuff that will blow your mind' talk. So I was a little overwhelmed."
"You seen to have recovered quickly," Sam said dryly.
"The CMO – Dr Fraiser? – she's been a great help. Plus, the number of cute... ah," Dr Williams trailed off, grinning slyly. "Never mind." She cleared her throat and brushed down her uniform briskly. "What do you say? Want to start now?"
Sam grinned. "Sure."
*
It was very late by the time Sam got back from Janet's, and three hours of an intense after-dinner conversation over a bottle of red wine had left her feeling exhausted enough to take a cab back to her house.
In the end, Sam had told her everything. Everything from the moment she'd realized she wanted to be inappropriately involved with her CO right up until that morning when she'd called him first thing to confirm what color they were going to wear to work. It was more than she'd told the Colonel, more than she'd told Daniel, certainly more than she'd told the new shrink. She'd certainly done a lot of opening up that day, which no doubt added to her tiredness.
All she wanted to do was go to bed.
She paid the cab driver who – thank goodness – was the quiet and efficient type who hadn't engaged her in inane conversation on the way over and stumbled out of the car. Checking her watch she wondered if it was too late to call the Colonel – then she decided he wouldn't be asleep anyway. Plus, he had made her promise to call him before she went to bed since they'd missed lunch together that day and conversation over cake had been disappointingly cut short when Daniel dropped by to talk to them. She hoped this constant communication thing was a tread for the future.
She pulled her keys out of her bag and fitted them into the lock, just imagining how *good* it would feel to crawl into her lovely queen sized bed and drift off....
"Major."
Her head connected with the door.
Three times.
"You aren't here. You are a figment of my imagination," she muttered against the woodwork.
"I'm afraid not, Major."
"Please leave me alone."
He chuckled and she could hear him stepping up the steps towards her. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"There is no way in hell you're coming inside my house."
"You're being surprisingly ungrateful, Major Carter," Maybourne said disapprovingly, coming to lean against her door and look at her.
"You double crossed us, Maybourne," she said angrily, turning her head to glare at him.
He snorted. "Like you weren't going to double cross me?"
Sam decided it would probably be best if she turned back to the door. "Go away, Maybourne."
He sighed. "You're making my good deed very difficult, Major."
She knew she should ignore him. She knew she should open her door and slam it in his face but... "Good deed?"
"I just thought I might offer you a small piece of advice."
"You? Offer me advice?"
"May I remind you, Major, that I was the one who got you out of the mess you had got yourself into in the first place?"
She put the fact that she couldn't come up with a suitable response down to the hour and the bottle of wine she and Janet had shared. "If you tell me the advice, will you leave directly afterwards?"
"Sure thing."
"Go on then."
"Your experience with Jolinar, the naquadah it left in your system, is a source of great interest to NID and in some of the shadier regions of the Pentagon."
Did it just get cold? Sam wondered, lifting her head from her door. Suddenly, her skin was covered in goose-bumps. "Is that a threat, Maybourne?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I like you, Major, and I don't want to see you hurt. Take care of yourself. And watch your back."
He patted her lightly on the shoulder and then walked off. She glanced over her shoulder, just to make sure he didn't disappear in a puff of smoke, and then she looked back at her door.
Watch your back.
Damn, but she hated clichés.
Sam opened her door and then locked it behind her, sliding across the dead bolt. She hurried into the kitchen and grabbed her phone, her fingers seeking out the first number on her speed dial.
She went to peer out of her window while the phone rang.
"O'Neill," he said, picking up on the third ring.
Sam grinned automatically at hearing his voice. "Hey, sir, it's me."
"You're back late." She could all but imagine his eyebrows raised. "Good time?"
"Yeah. Girl talk, mostly."
"Yuck."
Sam laughed. "Very mature, sir." She kicked off her shoes and went to curl up on her couch. "Listen, Maybourne was just at my door..."