AN: The original intent of this story was that it be very, very angsty.
And I realized that it wasn't really. So here we go.
I wasn't going to change my ANs, but after reading a couple of the reviews, I just have to. Macisgate, if you have a guess as to what the weapon is at the end of chapter four, you're a step ahead where I was at that point! SG, if you liked Jack last chapter, I think this one's even better! And then chapter six just keeps it coming!
* * * * * *
"I don't understand why Dr. Carter had to put this in such an elaborate code." Sam said, setting down the notebook to accept the cup of coffee Jack handed her.
"There was a spy." Abby replied simply, putting a forkful of what passed for breakfast into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "We knew we had one, but we didn't know who it was, so Samantha told no one what she was doing and encrypted all of her notes."
"Well, won't the spy tell the Goa'uld that we're here?" Jack asked.
"No. Kawalsky has taken care of him. But Samantha was already dead, so it was too late for her to decrypt her notes."
"Oh." Sam said quietly. She turned to her father. "Any luck contacting the Tok'ra in this reality?"
"I sent a message as soon as we arrived yesterday, but with the gate here buried, they'd have to bring a ship, and they might think it's a trap." Jacob replied, then bowed his head for Selmak to take over. "It is also possible that the Tok'ra do not exist in this universe. At any point in this reality's history, a choice might have been made that stopped the Tok'ra from beginning their rebellion."
"Maybe they're just taking their time." Sam suggested without much confidence in her voice. She swallowed the last of her breakfast, and straightened her shoulders. "Well, back to work with me."
Sam and Jack stood up and headed off to the lab. As they walked, Sam filled Jack in on what she thought the weapon was for.
"As far as I can tell, sir, its purpose is to get through the shields of a Goa'uld mothership."
"It must pack quite a punch."
"No, sir. I don't think so. I think that the intervals in the diary entries indicate the number of seconds between shots, and the actual dates themselves are the frequency at which to fire."
"I understood so little of that."
"It's like knocking in code sir. If we hit the right combination, the door comes down."
"Shave and a haircut?"
"Two bits."
* * * * * *
Sam, whether she would admit it or not, was completely in her element here. She was swearing a great deal, but Jack knew her well enough to realize that she was on a roll, and Sam Carter on a roll was something to be reckoned with.
He was still very uncomfortable here. For starters, he was supposed to be dead, and even though he kept to the tent and out of view as much as he could, he still attracted a lot of attention whenever he had to leave. Additionally, he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong here. His years of experience taught him to pay close attention to his instincts, and they were refusing to cooperate. He didn't know if they were all worked up because of the reality, or because of a legitimate threat. What concerned him the most, was that it might be both.
He dealt with his misgivings in the time honoured fashion of pacing back and forth while Sam tinkered with the machine. Now that she knew what it was supposed to do, she was having no more trouble finishing it. The only question that remained was if it would be done by the time Thor came to take them home.
And if she would leave if it wasn't.
* * * * * *
After six hours of work - during which time, Jack wasn't even sure his 2IC had blinked - he ordered her out of the lab for at least fifteen minutes to clear her head. She protested, naturally, but had resisted only minimally when he'd pulled her to her feet and bodily thrown her out the door. In truth, Sam welcomed the reprieve.
Abby had offered to give her a tour of the encampment, and Sam was willing to take her up on it. She discovered that her alternate's mother had been in cahoots with her CO, as Abby was waiting for her outside the lab with a picnic basket and a blanket. Internally, Sam sighed, wondering if these people would ever realize that she could take care of herself, but on the outside she smiled.
Lunch was only MREs, but it was still food, and Sam was willing to eat anything by this point. The two ate in silence for a while, but Abby obviously had an agenda for the afternoon, and eventually got around to airing it.
"You know, we could really use you here."
"I can't mom, I have to go home." Sam wondered absently why she called Abby 'mom' when she thought of her as 'Abby'.
"But they have other scientists there. We have no one. Ever since Rodney was killed. . ."
"McKay was here too?" Sam demanded, caught completely off guard.
"Yes, Samantha, he was the spy."
"Damn."
"You know him in your reality?"
"Yes, he's, well, he's very annoying."
"Really? I always thought he was kind of sweet. Until the Goa'uld got him anyway."
"Weird." Sam commented, and then realized that she was being artfully distracted. "But that doesn't change anything, mom. I have to go home."
"But we need you!"
"They need me too."
"Samantha. . ."
"That is not me!" Sam was yelling now, and she wasn't entirely sure why. "I am not her. They call me Sam."
"Your father used to call you that and I used to hate it." Abby said through her teeth. "He never let you be a girl, and without me around while you were growing up, you've obviously never learned how to be a woman."
"What are you saying?"
"You were happy, Samantha."
"I am not Samantha. And if you are suggesting that the only way any of me can find happiness is with him, you obviously don't know me at all. And even if I did stay, there's no way in hell that O'Neill would too. If there's one thing I've learned in all this alternate universe traveling, it's that the Sam Carter who joined the Air Force is the one who helped save Earth, and if that means that I can never have. . ." Sam stood up, unable to bear the presence of this woman any longer. "I will finish the damn machine. And then dad and Colonel O'Neill and I are going home."
She spun on her heal and strode back toward the main camp, leaving Abigail Carter alone in the midst of a ruined picnic.
* * * * * *
Jack ducked into the lab to find Carter busy at work. She didn't hear him come in. He could tell that she was angry about something by the way that she moved, a bit more jerkily than usual, but he hadn't the slightest idea what it might be. He had not seen Abby, however, so he began to formulate a theory.
"Carter?" he asked lightly, in the tone of a Colonel in pursuit of a progress report.
"You never call me Samantha," she said without looking up.
"Um, Carter?" Now he was a Colonel with absolutely no idea what was going on.
"You never call me Samantha," she stated again. "Why?"
"I must have done it at some point." He answered defensively. "But I guess it's because Sam is quicker. I mean, Daniel has three syllables, but you can get it out quickly. There really aren't any short cuts in Samantha."
"And then of course there is the military part."
"Well, yes. Why are we talking about this?"
"She had the gall to suggest that I stay here. That they needed me more here than at home."
"Oh," he responded, completely not with her.
"She said you should stay too."
"Oh." This was making more and more sense. "And what's pissing you off is that for a few seconds, you were tempted."
And they said he wasn't perceptive.
"More than a few sir."
"Samantha?" he began, his voice giving nothing, and thus everything away.
"Yes sir?"
"I'm not worth it."
"Neither am I, sir."
* * * * * *
AN: Well, was that enough for you? Tell me in review.
I wasn't going to change my ANs, but after reading a couple of the reviews, I just have to. Macisgate, if you have a guess as to what the weapon is at the end of chapter four, you're a step ahead where I was at that point! SG, if you liked Jack last chapter, I think this one's even better! And then chapter six just keeps it coming!
* * * * * *
"I don't understand why Dr. Carter had to put this in such an elaborate code." Sam said, setting down the notebook to accept the cup of coffee Jack handed her.
"There was a spy." Abby replied simply, putting a forkful of what passed for breakfast into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "We knew we had one, but we didn't know who it was, so Samantha told no one what she was doing and encrypted all of her notes."
"Well, won't the spy tell the Goa'uld that we're here?" Jack asked.
"No. Kawalsky has taken care of him. But Samantha was already dead, so it was too late for her to decrypt her notes."
"Oh." Sam said quietly. She turned to her father. "Any luck contacting the Tok'ra in this reality?"
"I sent a message as soon as we arrived yesterday, but with the gate here buried, they'd have to bring a ship, and they might think it's a trap." Jacob replied, then bowed his head for Selmak to take over. "It is also possible that the Tok'ra do not exist in this universe. At any point in this reality's history, a choice might have been made that stopped the Tok'ra from beginning their rebellion."
"Maybe they're just taking their time." Sam suggested without much confidence in her voice. She swallowed the last of her breakfast, and straightened her shoulders. "Well, back to work with me."
Sam and Jack stood up and headed off to the lab. As they walked, Sam filled Jack in on what she thought the weapon was for.
"As far as I can tell, sir, its purpose is to get through the shields of a Goa'uld mothership."
"It must pack quite a punch."
"No, sir. I don't think so. I think that the intervals in the diary entries indicate the number of seconds between shots, and the actual dates themselves are the frequency at which to fire."
"I understood so little of that."
"It's like knocking in code sir. If we hit the right combination, the door comes down."
"Shave and a haircut?"
"Two bits."
* * * * * *
Sam, whether she would admit it or not, was completely in her element here. She was swearing a great deal, but Jack knew her well enough to realize that she was on a roll, and Sam Carter on a roll was something to be reckoned with.
He was still very uncomfortable here. For starters, he was supposed to be dead, and even though he kept to the tent and out of view as much as he could, he still attracted a lot of attention whenever he had to leave. Additionally, he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong here. His years of experience taught him to pay close attention to his instincts, and they were refusing to cooperate. He didn't know if they were all worked up because of the reality, or because of a legitimate threat. What concerned him the most, was that it might be both.
He dealt with his misgivings in the time honoured fashion of pacing back and forth while Sam tinkered with the machine. Now that she knew what it was supposed to do, she was having no more trouble finishing it. The only question that remained was if it would be done by the time Thor came to take them home.
And if she would leave if it wasn't.
* * * * * *
After six hours of work - during which time, Jack wasn't even sure his 2IC had blinked - he ordered her out of the lab for at least fifteen minutes to clear her head. She protested, naturally, but had resisted only minimally when he'd pulled her to her feet and bodily thrown her out the door. In truth, Sam welcomed the reprieve.
Abby had offered to give her a tour of the encampment, and Sam was willing to take her up on it. She discovered that her alternate's mother had been in cahoots with her CO, as Abby was waiting for her outside the lab with a picnic basket and a blanket. Internally, Sam sighed, wondering if these people would ever realize that she could take care of herself, but on the outside she smiled.
Lunch was only MREs, but it was still food, and Sam was willing to eat anything by this point. The two ate in silence for a while, but Abby obviously had an agenda for the afternoon, and eventually got around to airing it.
"You know, we could really use you here."
"I can't mom, I have to go home." Sam wondered absently why she called Abby 'mom' when she thought of her as 'Abby'.
"But they have other scientists there. We have no one. Ever since Rodney was killed. . ."
"McKay was here too?" Sam demanded, caught completely off guard.
"Yes, Samantha, he was the spy."
"Damn."
"You know him in your reality?"
"Yes, he's, well, he's very annoying."
"Really? I always thought he was kind of sweet. Until the Goa'uld got him anyway."
"Weird." Sam commented, and then realized that she was being artfully distracted. "But that doesn't change anything, mom. I have to go home."
"But we need you!"
"They need me too."
"Samantha. . ."
"That is not me!" Sam was yelling now, and she wasn't entirely sure why. "I am not her. They call me Sam."
"Your father used to call you that and I used to hate it." Abby said through her teeth. "He never let you be a girl, and without me around while you were growing up, you've obviously never learned how to be a woman."
"What are you saying?"
"You were happy, Samantha."
"I am not Samantha. And if you are suggesting that the only way any of me can find happiness is with him, you obviously don't know me at all. And even if I did stay, there's no way in hell that O'Neill would too. If there's one thing I've learned in all this alternate universe traveling, it's that the Sam Carter who joined the Air Force is the one who helped save Earth, and if that means that I can never have. . ." Sam stood up, unable to bear the presence of this woman any longer. "I will finish the damn machine. And then dad and Colonel O'Neill and I are going home."
She spun on her heal and strode back toward the main camp, leaving Abigail Carter alone in the midst of a ruined picnic.
* * * * * *
Jack ducked into the lab to find Carter busy at work. She didn't hear him come in. He could tell that she was angry about something by the way that she moved, a bit more jerkily than usual, but he hadn't the slightest idea what it might be. He had not seen Abby, however, so he began to formulate a theory.
"Carter?" he asked lightly, in the tone of a Colonel in pursuit of a progress report.
"You never call me Samantha," she said without looking up.
"Um, Carter?" Now he was a Colonel with absolutely no idea what was going on.
"You never call me Samantha," she stated again. "Why?"
"I must have done it at some point." He answered defensively. "But I guess it's because Sam is quicker. I mean, Daniel has three syllables, but you can get it out quickly. There really aren't any short cuts in Samantha."
"And then of course there is the military part."
"Well, yes. Why are we talking about this?"
"She had the gall to suggest that I stay here. That they needed me more here than at home."
"Oh," he responded, completely not with her.
"She said you should stay too."
"Oh." This was making more and more sense. "And what's pissing you off is that for a few seconds, you were tempted."
And they said he wasn't perceptive.
"More than a few sir."
"Samantha?" he began, his voice giving nothing, and thus everything away.
"Yes sir?"
"I'm not worth it."
"Neither am I, sir."
* * * * * *
AN: Well, was that enough for you? Tell me in review.