Chapter 3 – Nothing Sweet about Sorrow

When she had eventually managed to detach herself from Pete in the Jacksons' bedroom, Sam found Daniel and Sarah sitting morosely on the sofa in silence. She knew instantly that Jack had disappeared, and that there would be little point in chasing after him after the scene that he had just experienced. How much had he heard of their argument about who did or didn't love whom in the bedroom before he'd gone?

"He heard enough" Sarah said in fine anticipation of Sam's question, "to know that he's been way down the list of your priorities. You and Pete deserve each other."

"What?" Sam replied incredulously, alongside Pete's "What's that meant to mean?"

"I mean you've both become self-centred to the point of only ever talking about what each of you wants. Well I'm sick of it and I know that Daniel is too, but he's too polite to tell you." Sarah continued, and Daniel blushed but his expression was undeniable. "I've known Jack and respected him as both enemy and friend, and I've never been as close to him as you or Daniel. But even I can see that he's living in almost complete solitude. His only real friends are Teal'c and Daniel, but neither of them can fill the gap that you've left in his life, Sam. No wonder he wants out."

"Sam's mine now." said Pete emphatically. "O'Neill just never knew when to let go."

"I am not yours or anybody's!" Sam affirmed. "At least Jack respected that!"

"Well I didn't see any respect going on when I came in!" he retorted. "I could have him for indecent assault or attempted rape if you just file a complaint."

"Then you'd better take a statement from him then and charge me with it!" Sam shouted back at him. "Because if you hadn't come in when you did, my life would be going somewhere now instead of this!"

Only Pete had seen Sam as angry as this on previous occasions, but he had never imagined that his woman would be making a confession of this magnitude or nature. He was dumbstruck, and hurting, and stood gaping at her.

Seeing Sam's demeanour turn from defiance, to uncertainty, to distress in just a few seconds caused Sarah to get up quickly and embrace her before anything more could be said by anyone. She cast an angry glare at the man before her and said forcefully "Get out now, Pete. Just leave, damn you. Sam will let you know if she wants you to come around again. And in her time, not yours!"

"Sam, you didn't mean....." he started to say.

"Just go now, will you!" Sarah shouted. After staring for a few seconds more, he turned smartly on his heel and left, leaving the front door open in his wake and a moment or two later the screech of tyre rubber marked his departure.

"I'll, er, put some coffee on." said Daniel quietly, wondering for a moment whether he might be living with Sarah's former Goa'uld persona as well as the woman herself.

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Elapsed time on board (ETOB): LD-1. Elapsed time at origin (ETAO): LD-1

Jack was hoping that either the journalists would run out of questions or the broadcast would run out of time before they got to him at the end of the row of astronauts assembled on the dais before the cameras. But his luck was not riding high that day, not when they realised that he wasn't an 'egg-head' like the others.

He'd tried to position himself so that any close-up shots being broadcast on TV wouldn't show the giant Madonna Megaburger motif behind his head in the same frame, making it look for all the world like he was wearing a giant sombrero, but every time he sidled away a producerette would appear out of thin air, pushing him back in place to preserve the wholesome image of product approval. He had been smiling inwardly at the nature of their sponsorship. The more that parents and authorities tut-tutted about the evils of fast foods, the more that both secular and religious authorities around the world condemned them for being the devil's agent of imperialism and spawn of anti-vegetarian forces, and the more their sales rose. And the richer their proprietors became, the only casualty being the dwindling art of home cooking.

But the proprietors were human too, some exceedingly so. Being rich didn't go hand-in-hand with being stupid or uncultured. For a very rich person with an intellect or a conscience, history could be made to look upon you in a kindly light, sometimes even for the right reasons. The former pop star who ran their sponsoring company had impressed Jack with her drive and business acumen, and her surprising sense of fun. During the selection process, she had seen in him a stabilising force to offset the ebullience and sometimes narrow focus of the scientists that made up the other five crew members. When his place had finally been confirmed, she had made sure that Dr. Stevens had overheard her words to her 'Safety Officer': "Bring 'em home in one piece, Jack. I'll need good publicity for my old age public rehabilitation!"

Jack's expectation or even just his wish that the journalists would not find him interesting enough to dwell on was in vain. However, when Jocelyn Stevens tried to intercept some of their questions to him, he rose to the occasion at their prompting, determined to leave his own stamp on the interview.

"What aspects of safety do you regard as paramount, Mr. O'Neill?"

"Call me Jack. Mainly making sure that everyone is aware of safety protocols and procedures all the time, and that they are living up to them. It's easy to make a mistake or take a dangerous short cut when what you're doing is completely absorbing. Total vacuum is unforgiving in so many ways. Kinda ruins your appetite for burgers, for one."

"Is that all you're going to do, Jack? Won't you be bored if that's all there is?"

"No, I have a very limited amateur science role to perform as well, when time and opportunity permit."

"Are you qualified in the sciences then, Jack? What experiments will you be performing?"

"I'm the liaison for amateur astronomers here on Earth who will be following our voyage. They're letting me take my own four-inch refracting telescope on board: in space it'll be as good as a much larger instrument on the ground. It's been linked to a spectroscope and a computer so that images and data can be stored and sent back to Earth for broadcast on public stations and the internet. I'll only be using up a fraction of one percent of the sub-space transmitter bandwidth, so no real interference with the real science."

"What will your data do for them, Jack?"

"I'll be able to provide lots of new, more accurate measurements of the brightness and surface temperature of stars to improve the plots on the Hertzsprung-Russell Diagram. Our giant telescope array will be too busy with the twenty-one centimetre work to carry out this sort of search. Don't forget that twenty years for you people will only be a few months to us. Hey! I know you guys will edit that bit of technobabble out anyway."

"And do you have any scientific qualifications, Jack?"

"Well, er, yes. I have a degree in applied mathematics, but I studied way back when and it's all a little rusty now apart from the bits relating to astronomy, which has been my constant hobby. That and it was always useful in calculating the trajectories of munitions, which was an element of my job for a long time."

"Jack, Dr. Stevens has indicated that fraternisation on board will be permitted provided that it doesn't interfere with the mission. How will you deal with people if it does become a problem?"

"You must be the man from 'The National Enquirer'. I'll prise them apart with a wrecking bar and force them to watch episodes of 'Wormhole Xtreme' on the video. That should put them off for a while."

"I can see why the scientists are giving up their contacts with the present generation of families and friends, Jack. They're going to be breaking new ground in knowledge of the universe in their specialty areas. But why did you volunteer for this mission?"

"I no longer have a family; just a few very dear, understanding friends whom I hope to see again when some of them are nearer my age. As to why, well, just because I've spent my life as a dumb soldier doesn't mean that I haven't always been fascinated by the overwhelming spectacle of the night sky. My hobby has carried me through some personally difficult times. Why wouldn't I want to jump at this chance as well?"

"Do you actually like Megaburgers, Jack? I gather they're a substantial part of the provisions being taken on the trip."

"I think they'll come in very handy for patch repairs to the hull."

Jocelyn Stevens and various company managers blanched as his words sped around the globe, little realising that the next day's sales would top all records. The proprietor herself, surprisingly, was laughing along with most of humanity.

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Sam Carter was not laughing. Sam Carter's mood was the blackest she'd ever known since the reality of her mother's death had hit her when she was a child, some weeks after the event when she had understood that her parent was really gone forever.

Apart from the revelation – well, perhaps not a total surprise – that Jack's education was more advanced than he had ever publicly revealed, one phrase from his interview would not leave her head. 'I no longer have a family.....' She knew that to be true on more than one level and the thought sickened her.

She wondered once again about the irony for most people of not recognising the best time of your life until it's passed. A time that she now felt firmly had been, for her, in the heyday of SG-1 when the combined challenges of visiting new planets, mastering technological puzzles and overcoming fear in the face of enemies had bonded four people into a 'family' in a way that was indescribable to others. But the added dimension had been the spice of being with and living for the person she truly desired, even if the physical side of that love could never be fulfilled under those circumstances.

In the last two weeks, Sam had come to believe that the way in which she had destroyed that unspoken link with Jack by just starting a physical and emotional relationship with someone else had been nothing other than selfish, no matter how good her reasoning had been at the time. She had known that this honourable man would never protest at her actions, and she had convinced herself that he would just accept the situation as one of military necessity and personal freedom, and would always be there for her should she change her mind. But his denial of ever making such a statement during that fateful night at Daniel's house had rammed home the truth that this had been part of her own wishful agenda, not his.

So here she was, working long, intense hours to minimise contact with a dwindling band of friends, addicted to TV broadcasts about the project, and refusing to return Pete's daily phone messages. The one time she had called him back to say 'no' yet again, he had arrived on her doorstep anyway as soon as he could get there from Denver and not just asked, but practically pleaded with her to become his wife. It had given her no pleasure to phrase her reply in tones that would hopefully deter him from trying that again, but still the calls came.

Subordinates in the SGC now paid her more attention as the ice in her soul slowly started to turn her into a more demanding, less tolerant officer – still an exemplary role model as far as the Air Force was concerned, but somehow less approachable on a personal level than before. 'Get the job done' and 'Bring them home in one piece' were the mantras that she made sure everyone understood.

LD0 – launch day – was tomorrow. The day when the irrational, almost invisible spark of hope that he wouldn't be leaving her life would be extinguished. For the first time, she really understood how Jack must have felt about her own actions three years ago.

Jack Daniels, not Jack O'Neill, was her only friend that night.

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