Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter absently tossed her keys onto the small file cabinet next to the door in her lab then sat down and opened her laptop, her mind not really on what she was doing. It replayed the argument she'd had with Pete and then Mark earlier that day over and over again.
"Sam, you've gotta quit beating yourself up over this," Pete said, "It wasn't your fault already and it's been two months since the accident."
"What do you know about it?" Sam snarled, "He was the best commanding officer I've ever had, and if I had gone over like he'd asked…"
"You wouldn't have gone out with me that night," Pete finished flatly, "I think I see where this is going. I should have known when I saw the way you looked at him that time. Goodbye. You and the dead guy deserve each other." He walked off, the anger and pain visible on his face.
The guilt and confusion she felt at that moment threatened to overwhelm her, but she stopped herself from calling him back. If that's the way he wanted to act, then fine, let him. He'd never understand the relationship she had shared with the general. How could he when she didn't understand it herself?
The phone rang when she got back to her house and she picked it up. It was Mark.
"Damn it Sammy!" was the first thing out of her brother's mouth, "You had a good thing going and you had to screw it up. What, you want to end up like Dad?"
"Why hello Mark, I'm fine thanks, how are you?" Sam retorted sarcastically.
"You're going to do it, aren't you? You're gonna throw your life away for the Air Force," Mark went on, as if she hadn't spoken, "And you're using your commanding officer as an excuse to keep from living your life."
That hit too close to the conclusion she had come to onboard the Prometheus for comfort. This, coupled with all the hurt, anger and confusion she had been refusing to deal with over the past two months, forced her to the boiling point, and she lashed out.
"What the hell do you care, Mark! Ever since Mom died, all I've ever heard from you were insults and curses towards Dad and the military! That's all you care about, is the fact that Mom got taken from You! That Dad wasn't spending time with You! Your little attempts at matchmaking so I wouldn't join the Air Force! All you've ever been is a selfish son of a bitch!"
Sam winced as she recalled slamming the phone down, storming out to her car and ramming her foot into the accelerator, driving off as fast as she could. When she had found herself at the spot where the accident had occurred, she had—for about the umpteenth time—broken down into sobs. When she had sufficiently recovered, she had driven to the complex, hoping some research would take her mind off things.
It wasn't working very well so far.
The lab phone rang and she picked it up, grateful for the distraction. "Carter here."
"Colonel," came Major Paul Davis' voice over the line, "What are you doing here so late?"
"Oh you know," she answered lightly, "I just wanted to see if I could finish up on some research."
"I see." And Sam knew that Davis very probably did see. He had grieved just as hard as anyone at the news of Jack O'Neill's death. "Well, I'm heading home now. If you need anything…."
In spite of herself, Sam smiled. Everyone at the SGC was part of a family. "I know. I'll probably get a hold of Daniel, if that happens."
She could hear the answering grin in his voice as he responded with, "Of course. Oh yes, remember that the new commander will be arriving early tomorrow morning. Try not to work too late so you can give him a good impression."
Sam groaned as she hung up the phone. With everything that had happened that day, she had totally forgotten about the impending change of leadership Stargate Command was about to go through once again. How many times would they all have to deal with that kind of upheaval? It was hard to concentrate on keeping the planet safe when you weren't sure whether your own life was completely in order.
Still, she had high hopes for this particular man who happened to be an idol of hers. Doctor Angus MacGyver. She had read all his papers on thermonuclear dynamics and quantum physics as well as some of his archaeological exploits. If anyone were to be naturally well suited to life at the SGC, he would be with his multiple talents. The only problem she could foresee was his strong viewpoint concerning gun control.
Feeling slightly better, Sam opened her laptop and perused over her latest entry of research for the alien device they'd found on an abandoned planet. The readings she'd taken so far indicated a high electro-magnetic impulse. She hadn't been able to discern an obvious power source, but that didn't mean anything. It could be a power source itself. Just as she had concluded the day before, she would need Daniel's translation before she could come to any conclusions.
Daniel muttered to himself and hit his lap-top as the screen fizzled out. Great, now he'd have redo everything he'd accomplished in the past hour. He really needed to start saving his work every five minutes instead of just when he happened realize it needed doing. Habits had to be formed anyway, might as well make it a good one that benefited himself.
So far he had come no where near translating the alien text SG-7 had found next to some kind of weird looking oblong object. The circumstances in finding it were strange also; it had been the only advanced piece of technology found among the primitive huts of a long-abandoned planet. It had taken the team three weeks to get clearance to bring it back to the SGC—which wasn't so surprising considering everything that had gone wrong in the past eight years—and when they did, Sam hadn't been able to determine what it did any more than Lieutenant Boyd—SG-7's physicist.
Now it was up to Daniel to save the day once more with his super-linguist skills. The archaeologist sighed, not feeling up to the task. Somehow, with Jack gone and the knowledge that he definitely wouldn't be coming back, nothing seemed to really matter like it once did.
Sure, they still had to protect Earth from the Goa'uld—Ba'al had nearly succeeded in destroying the Alpha site, which once again had to be relocated—but in the last two months Daniel had begun to wonder what the point of it all was. If a man like Jack O'Neill could die in an automobile accident, then who cared if the planet was safe? Everyone was just going to die anyway.
And then Daniel would remember that freedom had its price, and it was better to die free than to die knowing one was a slave. Wasn't that what Teal'c and Bra'tac always said? Jack had died knowing he was a hero. He had also probably cursed the fates at the same time for letting him die in such an anticlimactic way.
Daniel grinned. Sure it was morbid, but it gave him some small satisfaction in believing that Jack had gone out fighting to the last. Even if there hadn't been time for the man to have even realized what was going to happen before he'd died.
"Hey, Daniel," Paul Davis said walking into the lab, "I'm heading out, you coming with?"
"Yeah," Daniel agreed, "I think need a new perspective. I've been going at this translation for nearly forty-eight hours straight. Some time away will hopefully let me clear my head at any rate."
The major nodded and waited as Daniel put his notes away. Everything else he left out, knowing that if someone wanted the information that badly, they'd already have it.
"So, you excited about meeting Doctor MacGyver?" Paul asked as they entered the elevator that would take them aboveground.
Daniel frowned slightly. "Actually, I've forgotten all about it. I thought you were going to stay in charge."
"No," Paul said in amusement, "That's what you wanted and kept trying to push for. Despite firm negatives. Besides, even though I'm from the Pentagon, it's only a matter of time before someone gets defensive about being told what to do from a lower ranking officer."
"Sam would never…"
"I'm not talking about Sam and you know it."
Daniel nodded in defeat, then challenged, "And you don't think they'll resent a civilian?"
"Of course they will, but I've heard a lot of good things about MacGyver," Paul retorted, "When General Hammond was being replaced it was a toss up between Dr. Weir and MacGyver. Dr. Weir won by default because no one knew how to reach MacGyver."
"Kinda says a lot about Dr. Weir," Daniel muttered, indignant on his friend's behalf.
"No," Paul rebutted, "It says a lot about MacGyver. Come on Daniel, surely you remember your first time under the eyes of the military?"
Daniel sighed, giving up. He'd make an honest effort to get along with the new commander, because it was in his personality to do so. "Still," he muttered, "I wasn't in charge."
MacGyver questioned his sanity for the thousandth time in two days. When the President had first requested an audience with him, he had been scared spit less, however, he had been relieved to find out that his secret was still safe. That must have been the reason for his readily accepting the position at the SGC. It could be the only explanation for such a boneheaded move.
No, he told himself, It's because I wanted to go back. No matter how crazy that makes me.
Despite the various missions—and missions gone horribly wrong thanks to one Jack Dalton—Pete had sent him on in the past two months, it paled significantly next to going off-world, fighting the Goa'uld, and yes, even the paper-work. So, when Henry Hayes had asked him point blank—after the off-setting moments where he'd had to explain about his Uncle Jack—if he wanted to take charge of Stargate Command, he'd said yes.
Needless to say, Pete hadn't been very happy about this arrangement.
"MacGyver, you just got back…"
"I know Pete, but this time I'm not going on an extended vacation," MacGyver told his friend, "I've accepted a position with NORAD."
Pete sighed sadly, then brightened. "Well, then, you'll be able to keep in touch regularly at any rate."
"That's the spirit Pete, look on the bright side," Mac said, grinning at the older man.
"I wasn't looking on the bright side, Mac," Pete deadpanned, "I was ordering you."
MacGyver threw up a mock salute, still grinning. "Yessir, Mister Thornton sir."
As Mac threw his own clothes and mementos into his two well-worn suitcases, he couldn't help feeling happy for some reason. Maybe because he was going to get to do something he had come to love in the past eight years as himself instead of pretending to be someone else. Despite all his fears and questions of his sanity, he was looking forward to the next day.
Thanks go out to these reviewers:
Dunk: I may not write from Teal'c's point of view, just because he's such a hard character to get into. He seems so simple, and yet he's very complex.
Makura Koneko: Hehe…lucky me…shifty eyes Who says Jack's really dead?
Erin: All will be explained. Maybe not soon, but it will be explained.
Erikstrulove: I love your pen-name Uh…you're probably going to be more confused after this chapter, and for that I apologize. Read my answer to Erin's review.
Horsefly: Well, your demands shall be met