Chapter 15 - Forward to the Past
Sam's unexpected air sickness, both in the helicopter and the C-130 that had flown them to Colorado, had taken them both by surprise. Jack's initial reaction had been to fuss over her a little, until she made it quite clear that she would just prefer to be left alone. He gave her the space she wanted but kept a cautious watch. She recovered somewhat after landing and was grateful for having been transported slowly and gently by an Air Force driver to General Hammond's house and now she was beginning to feel normal again as she sat back on the sofa, nursing a cup of tea.
"I really don't understand it." she sighed again. "I mean, I know I haven't flown in the last twelve months, but I could take any amount of turbulence before that."
Jack raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing. He hadn't flown in nearly eighteen months but had felt no discomfort on the flight that hadn't been particularly rough anyway. Travelling in the hold of a military transport could be a far from comfortable experience, with the hours of noise, vibration and the unique smell that was a combination of aviation fuel and the long-accumulated almost metallic odour of people and heavy equipment. But Sam had been in the Air Force long enough to have grown used to it. A tiny pinprick of concern and wonder sparked in the corner of his mind, but his expression didn't falter.
"Probably the stress of the last few days." said Hammond. "I guess you've been under siege from the press the same as here. I have to admit that they nearly wore me down to the point of waving a gun at them, but thank God, they've gone for the most part now."
"You should get a dog, George." said Jack wryly. "Helped us."
"Well thanks to the two of you and your blatant encouragement of my grandkids here the other day," replied Hammond with a non-too serious expression, "that's quite likely to be happening soon. I must admit, Sam that I never had you down as a dog lover. Jack, yes - it was written all over him. What made up your mind?"
Sam smiled. "Well, if I'm honest it took me by surprise too. When I first saw Jack with his 'Sam' up at the cabin, I just knew I'd never be able to separate him from her. They came as a kind of package deal, and I realised that having two comedians in the house was probably better than one."
"Hey!" Jack exclaimed, but stopped when the General laughed heartily at him. "Feeling a little better, are we *dear*?"
"Yes, thanks." mumbled Sam into her raised tea cup. They relaxed for a while before Hammond brought up the subject of the plans for the next day.
"Everyone who's been associated with the SGC and the Stargate program has been hounded." he said. "So, they've agreed with the TV companies and media that there will be a Press Day tomorrow. Pretty much the whole place will be on show, and past and present personnel will be on hand to answer questions. It's not compulsory that you two should be there, but it'll get the worst of it over and done with. They've agreed to lay off chasing people afterwards in return for in-depth interviews on site." He looked directly at Sam. "*Serious* interviews, that is."
A grim smile passed across her face. "I guess it's for the best, then." she sighed.
"I suppose they'll be shown the Stargate in operation?" asked Jack.
It was the General's turn for a grim smile. "Oh, somewhat more than that. A few SG Teams and scientists past and present will gate to P4D-134 accompanying selected journalists. There you'll meet up with a few Tok'ra and maybe the Asgard, and Teal'c will join you there as the representative of the free Jaffa. Then after a photo-shoot, you'll all gate back to the SGC and be filmed arriving back through the Event Horizon for a group photo- session as a kind of TV finale."
The looks of shock and surprise on Sam and Jack's faces could not be adequately described even by a fiction writer.
"Where we'll be greeted by Jerry Springer, I suppose?" Jack suggested, his voice laced with irony.
"Oh, if only it were." said Hammond. "No. It'll be someone who's used to handling the press and saw this chance way before we did. Jack, it pains me to tell you that it's Senator Kinsey."
"Is that the point where I get to demonstrate how a Zat gun works, then?" said Jack, reaching for his beer.
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That evening, Sam made the long-overdue phone call to her brother. She'd been surprised that Mark hadn't called her the minute the story had broken, but guessed that their strained relations after his visit to Minnesota in January had a lot to do with it.
"Well, you really kept that to yourself, didn't you?" he said. "I saw this evening's news broadcast where you and Jack were identified as high-ranking officers. Couldn't you have trusted even your own family? What did dad have to say about it?"
Sam realised that her father's true identity was still unknown to him. "I'll ask him to talk to you about it when I see him." she replied, knowing that this fact would have an even bigger impact on him than her involvement in the SGC. "He knew about the program because he's in the Air Force too, but you must realise, Mark, that nobody could tell their friends or families on the outside anything at all. I'm sorry."
"Did Pete Shannon know?" her brother persisted.
"No, he didn't, even though he tried hard to find out." said Sam. "At first, I couldn't tell him, and then after a while I didn't want to. He's in my past now, Mark. Please don't keep bringing him up. I've got enough hassle from the gutter press thanks to him."
"Are you happy with Jack, then? I haven't heard anything from you. I guess that's partly my fault, but when Dad came back with the news that morning that you'd married him, I couldn't believe it at first. I wanted to go back and make sure you were really yourself, you know, but Dad explained how he'd suspected that the two of you had ended up where you wanted to be for some time. It's funny, Dad seemed to be a completely different person that morning, despite his hangover."
"As I said, I'll get Dad to explain his part in all this. It's much more than you might think." said Sam quickly. "And yes, I'm very happy with Jack. We've just bought a house in Minnesota near to the cabin, and I'm taking up an offer to lecture part-time at the University of Minnesota in their Space Sciences faculty. We're going to buy a small apartment in St. Paul for stopovers when I'm working there. You must bring the family up to the house as soon as we've knocked it into shape a little."
"Yes, I'd like that. And... You must bring Jack to stay with us in San Diego. I think I owe him an apology at least, since he's making you so happy."
"Thanks, Mark. I'd really like that too. Oh, and watch out for the TV special tomorrow. You should see us on that too. Just don't mind the fixed smiles on our faces. It's going to be hell."
XXXXXXXXXXXX
They arrived at Cheyenne Mountain early the next morning and underwent the strange yet familiar experience of being checked in at the gate and then descending to the SGC. Old friends greeted them, while many newer staff knew them by reputation and were equally as keen to say hello. There were two hours or so to spare before the media contingent was due for the first organised meetings, and Sam could not be kept away from her old laboratory, while Jack linked up with his buddies to discuss important matters such as hockey team performances and results, and to get updates on the outcome of several of the long-running SGC betting pools on events both significant and trivial.
The slight tension in the pit of Sam's stomach as she approached her former lab dissipated the moment she saw the current occupant, who simultaneously spied her coming.
His broad grin was threatening to split Rodney McKay's face. "Well, if it isn't Blondie the Stargate Babe!" he cried in welcome. "I knew you wouldn't be able to keep away. Welcome to *my* laboratory."
"Well, I can tell it's not mine any more." said Sam in a steely voice. "We never used to let parasites in here before. Now they run the place apparently."
"Professional jealousy, Dr. Carter?" he responded, the grin only lessening slightly. "How unlike you. But this isn't a day for petty insults. I'm very glad you came to see me."
"First wrong assumption." she replied. "I'm just looking around."
"Well, let me show you some of my work." he responded, moving towards her as if to put an arm round her shoulders on an escorted walk. The glare radiating from her deterred him from completing the manoeuvre and he gestured over to the storage area. "First and foremost, the new, improved mobile naquadah generator. So much more reliable and powerful than the old models from your time."
"What took you so long?" she responded. "That design was on the drawing board over a year ago. Couldn't follow instructions, I suppose?"
"Well, if that's your attitude, I don't think I'm predisposed to show you any more. I heard your star was fading before you retired, so I wouldn't want to overload your brain with some of the newer stuff." he added before turning to face her, finding to his surprise that she was much closer to him than he thought. His delight lasted only a fleeting moment, however, as the pressure of her boot heel on his instep suddenly built up to an intolerable level.
"God, Samantha, that really hurts!" he gasped, but he found that he couldn't draw his crushed foot away.
"You know, I used to like you from time to time in some strange way." Sam said in a steady voice. "You were brilliant enough in your own areas of specialisation and I respected that."
"Please, Carter! It really, really hurts!" he moaned.
"But what really pisses me off," she continued, the downward pressure unrelenting, "is when someone tries to take sole credit for work that other people originated, now matter how well that someone supported them."
"Carter! Samantha!" he whimpered.
"So it might be a good idea if that same someone were to be a little more, shall we say... Magnanimous - yes, that's the word, magnanimous about the contributions of other workers to the Stargate program. Don't you agree?"
"Agh! Yes, yes! Magnanimity is my middle name!" he screeched as stars danced before his eyes.
They were interrupted by the sound of her husband's voice from the doorway.
"Having trouble, Carter?" asked Jack nonchalantly.
"Just a quick piano lesson." replied Sam. "Making sure that we're all reading from the same music score. Right, McKay?"
"Yes!" he squeaked, suddenly gasping with relief as she stepped away.
"Good." she finished. "Just so long as we all understand the facts." As she entered the corridor, she smiled at Jack. "Come on, let's go find Daniel."
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Sam's unexpected air sickness, both in the helicopter and the C-130 that had flown them to Colorado, had taken them both by surprise. Jack's initial reaction had been to fuss over her a little, until she made it quite clear that she would just prefer to be left alone. He gave her the space she wanted but kept a cautious watch. She recovered somewhat after landing and was grateful for having been transported slowly and gently by an Air Force driver to General Hammond's house and now she was beginning to feel normal again as she sat back on the sofa, nursing a cup of tea.
"I really don't understand it." she sighed again. "I mean, I know I haven't flown in the last twelve months, but I could take any amount of turbulence before that."
Jack raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing. He hadn't flown in nearly eighteen months but had felt no discomfort on the flight that hadn't been particularly rough anyway. Travelling in the hold of a military transport could be a far from comfortable experience, with the hours of noise, vibration and the unique smell that was a combination of aviation fuel and the long-accumulated almost metallic odour of people and heavy equipment. But Sam had been in the Air Force long enough to have grown used to it. A tiny pinprick of concern and wonder sparked in the corner of his mind, but his expression didn't falter.
"Probably the stress of the last few days." said Hammond. "I guess you've been under siege from the press the same as here. I have to admit that they nearly wore me down to the point of waving a gun at them, but thank God, they've gone for the most part now."
"You should get a dog, George." said Jack wryly. "Helped us."
"Well thanks to the two of you and your blatant encouragement of my grandkids here the other day," replied Hammond with a non-too serious expression, "that's quite likely to be happening soon. I must admit, Sam that I never had you down as a dog lover. Jack, yes - it was written all over him. What made up your mind?"
Sam smiled. "Well, if I'm honest it took me by surprise too. When I first saw Jack with his 'Sam' up at the cabin, I just knew I'd never be able to separate him from her. They came as a kind of package deal, and I realised that having two comedians in the house was probably better than one."
"Hey!" Jack exclaimed, but stopped when the General laughed heartily at him. "Feeling a little better, are we *dear*?"
"Yes, thanks." mumbled Sam into her raised tea cup. They relaxed for a while before Hammond brought up the subject of the plans for the next day.
"Everyone who's been associated with the SGC and the Stargate program has been hounded." he said. "So, they've agreed with the TV companies and media that there will be a Press Day tomorrow. Pretty much the whole place will be on show, and past and present personnel will be on hand to answer questions. It's not compulsory that you two should be there, but it'll get the worst of it over and done with. They've agreed to lay off chasing people afterwards in return for in-depth interviews on site." He looked directly at Sam. "*Serious* interviews, that is."
A grim smile passed across her face. "I guess it's for the best, then." she sighed.
"I suppose they'll be shown the Stargate in operation?" asked Jack.
It was the General's turn for a grim smile. "Oh, somewhat more than that. A few SG Teams and scientists past and present will gate to P4D-134 accompanying selected journalists. There you'll meet up with a few Tok'ra and maybe the Asgard, and Teal'c will join you there as the representative of the free Jaffa. Then after a photo-shoot, you'll all gate back to the SGC and be filmed arriving back through the Event Horizon for a group photo- session as a kind of TV finale."
The looks of shock and surprise on Sam and Jack's faces could not be adequately described even by a fiction writer.
"Where we'll be greeted by Jerry Springer, I suppose?" Jack suggested, his voice laced with irony.
"Oh, if only it were." said Hammond. "No. It'll be someone who's used to handling the press and saw this chance way before we did. Jack, it pains me to tell you that it's Senator Kinsey."
"Is that the point where I get to demonstrate how a Zat gun works, then?" said Jack, reaching for his beer.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
That evening, Sam made the long-overdue phone call to her brother. She'd been surprised that Mark hadn't called her the minute the story had broken, but guessed that their strained relations after his visit to Minnesota in January had a lot to do with it.
"Well, you really kept that to yourself, didn't you?" he said. "I saw this evening's news broadcast where you and Jack were identified as high-ranking officers. Couldn't you have trusted even your own family? What did dad have to say about it?"
Sam realised that her father's true identity was still unknown to him. "I'll ask him to talk to you about it when I see him." she replied, knowing that this fact would have an even bigger impact on him than her involvement in the SGC. "He knew about the program because he's in the Air Force too, but you must realise, Mark, that nobody could tell their friends or families on the outside anything at all. I'm sorry."
"Did Pete Shannon know?" her brother persisted.
"No, he didn't, even though he tried hard to find out." said Sam. "At first, I couldn't tell him, and then after a while I didn't want to. He's in my past now, Mark. Please don't keep bringing him up. I've got enough hassle from the gutter press thanks to him."
"Are you happy with Jack, then? I haven't heard anything from you. I guess that's partly my fault, but when Dad came back with the news that morning that you'd married him, I couldn't believe it at first. I wanted to go back and make sure you were really yourself, you know, but Dad explained how he'd suspected that the two of you had ended up where you wanted to be for some time. It's funny, Dad seemed to be a completely different person that morning, despite his hangover."
"As I said, I'll get Dad to explain his part in all this. It's much more than you might think." said Sam quickly. "And yes, I'm very happy with Jack. We've just bought a house in Minnesota near to the cabin, and I'm taking up an offer to lecture part-time at the University of Minnesota in their Space Sciences faculty. We're going to buy a small apartment in St. Paul for stopovers when I'm working there. You must bring the family up to the house as soon as we've knocked it into shape a little."
"Yes, I'd like that. And... You must bring Jack to stay with us in San Diego. I think I owe him an apology at least, since he's making you so happy."
"Thanks, Mark. I'd really like that too. Oh, and watch out for the TV special tomorrow. You should see us on that too. Just don't mind the fixed smiles on our faces. It's going to be hell."
XXXXXXXXXXXX
They arrived at Cheyenne Mountain early the next morning and underwent the strange yet familiar experience of being checked in at the gate and then descending to the SGC. Old friends greeted them, while many newer staff knew them by reputation and were equally as keen to say hello. There were two hours or so to spare before the media contingent was due for the first organised meetings, and Sam could not be kept away from her old laboratory, while Jack linked up with his buddies to discuss important matters such as hockey team performances and results, and to get updates on the outcome of several of the long-running SGC betting pools on events both significant and trivial.
The slight tension in the pit of Sam's stomach as she approached her former lab dissipated the moment she saw the current occupant, who simultaneously spied her coming.
His broad grin was threatening to split Rodney McKay's face. "Well, if it isn't Blondie the Stargate Babe!" he cried in welcome. "I knew you wouldn't be able to keep away. Welcome to *my* laboratory."
"Well, I can tell it's not mine any more." said Sam in a steely voice. "We never used to let parasites in here before. Now they run the place apparently."
"Professional jealousy, Dr. Carter?" he responded, the grin only lessening slightly. "How unlike you. But this isn't a day for petty insults. I'm very glad you came to see me."
"First wrong assumption." she replied. "I'm just looking around."
"Well, let me show you some of my work." he responded, moving towards her as if to put an arm round her shoulders on an escorted walk. The glare radiating from her deterred him from completing the manoeuvre and he gestured over to the storage area. "First and foremost, the new, improved mobile naquadah generator. So much more reliable and powerful than the old models from your time."
"What took you so long?" she responded. "That design was on the drawing board over a year ago. Couldn't follow instructions, I suppose?"
"Well, if that's your attitude, I don't think I'm predisposed to show you any more. I heard your star was fading before you retired, so I wouldn't want to overload your brain with some of the newer stuff." he added before turning to face her, finding to his surprise that she was much closer to him than he thought. His delight lasted only a fleeting moment, however, as the pressure of her boot heel on his instep suddenly built up to an intolerable level.
"God, Samantha, that really hurts!" he gasped, but he found that he couldn't draw his crushed foot away.
"You know, I used to like you from time to time in some strange way." Sam said in a steady voice. "You were brilliant enough in your own areas of specialisation and I respected that."
"Please, Carter! It really, really hurts!" he moaned.
"But what really pisses me off," she continued, the downward pressure unrelenting, "is when someone tries to take sole credit for work that other people originated, now matter how well that someone supported them."
"Carter! Samantha!" he whimpered.
"So it might be a good idea if that same someone were to be a little more, shall we say... Magnanimous - yes, that's the word, magnanimous about the contributions of other workers to the Stargate program. Don't you agree?"
"Agh! Yes, yes! Magnanimity is my middle name!" he screeched as stars danced before his eyes.
They were interrupted by the sound of her husband's voice from the doorway.
"Having trouble, Carter?" asked Jack nonchalantly.
"Just a quick piano lesson." replied Sam. "Making sure that we're all reading from the same music score. Right, McKay?"
"Yes!" he squeaked, suddenly gasping with relief as she stepped away.
"Good." she finished. "Just so long as we all understand the facts." As she entered the corridor, she smiled at Jack. "Come on, let's go find Daniel."
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