Circles
Chapter 7
After all the noise about Mr. and Mrs. Brigadier General and Lt. Col. O'Neill had died down to a dull roar, Sam settled back into work. She had changed tactics with Siler. Instead of drowning him in a sea of information, she'd decided to have HIM teach HER. They worked backward, and she filled in the holes as they went, and they were both slowly growing more confident that he could handle everything once she went on maternity leave.
She sighed. She'd have to tell Jack he'd been right. Dammit. She HATED it when he was right.
She watched with envy (and a little bit of fear) as SG-1 went through the Gate, hoping that no fun was had, like discovering cool science-y things, and that they wouldn't get themselves killed.
She sighed. She missed it.
And then it happened.
Hammond came by the lab and handed her a file.
She set it on the table before her and glared, trying to set it on fire with her eyes.
SG-1 was getting a fourth man. Or fourth woman, in this case. They'd be meeting her later that morning.
Sam gritted her teeth. She was being replaced.
"Grrrrrrr," she growled, causing Siler to look at her funny.
She sighed. Maybe, she thought hopefully, this woman was ugly as sin (that jealous streak kicking in) and dumber than a box of rocks. Well, you couldn't exactly be on SG-1 and be dumber than a box of rocks, although in Jack's case you could sometimes PRETEND to be dumber than box of rocks, but she could still hold out hope for the ugly part.
She sighed and flipped through the file.
Major My Lin, age 30, TWO doctorates, one in linguistics and one in physics. Argh! Personnel photo – lovely. Dammit!
Sam's mouth dropped open as she scanned through the other info. Her eyes crossed. Major Lin had scored two points higher than Sam on the intelligence test.
She, Samantha Carter, was obsolete.
She flung the file behind her, hitting a startled Siler in the head, then lay her head down on her desk and bawled. Then she puked in the trash can next to her desk.
They met later that morning and fell immediately in hate. Major Lin, Sam thought, was a snooty, uptight bitch. She was reserved with the rest of the team, but downright cold with Sam.
As the days passed it didn't get any better. Hammond had plopped Lin right in the middle of Sam's lab, and she was there all the time when she wasn't out with SG-1. Sam's resentment grew. Major Lin ignored all her advice, refused to listen when Sam tried to explain the mechanics of the Gate to her, and generally treated her like she didn't know her head from her ass.
And her eyes. She rolled her eyes a lot.
So it was inevitable, then, that Jack walked into the lab one day and smack dab into the middle of a screaming match, which Siler was watching with a combination of fear and the hope that they might start wrestling and somebody's clothes would come off.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Jack yelled. "What in the hell is going on in here?"
"Sir, SHE insists on telling me . . ."
"Because I've been there! I know what I'm talking about!"
"I've decided to do things differently!"
"THERE'S NO REASON TO DO THINGS DIFFERENTLY! I HAVE PROCEDURES IN PLACE THAT WORK!"
"YOUR PROCEDURES ARE OUTDATED, COLONEL! YOU'RE OUTDATED!"
Sam was seeing nothing but red and would've went for her if Jack hadn't stopped her.
"Calm down. This can't be good for you." Without thinking he rested his hand on her belly.
Lin's eyes narrowed. "So you're pregnant."
"Yes." Sam hissed.
"No wonder you're acting so irrationally."
Sam did make a move then but again Jack stopped her. "Time out."
Sam and Lin glared at one another.
He picked up the phone, turning his back to them so they couldn't hear what he was saying. It was a quick conversation and he turned back to them with a gleam in his eye.
"I obviously am not in a position to referee this one. Hammond wants you both up at his office."
They stared at him.
"He said, and I quote 'NOW!' You guys are in BIG trouble. Don't be late!"
He rushed out of the lab and when he was out of hearing range he leaned against a wall and laughed his ass off.
They sat outside Hammond's office like children waiting to see the principal. Sam seethed. Lin glowered.
They waited. And waited and waited and waited. A LONG time. This is a tactic often used by principals and generals, intended to make the guilty parties squirm. It was very successful in this case.
Sam sighed. Lin was part of SG-1 now, and this couldn't go on if they were going to work together. She decided to take the high road, even though what she wanted to do was take a very low road armed with a two by four studded with nails.
"Lin, I'm, aherm, sorry for getting so angry."
Stony silence.
"Lin, did you hear . . ."
"Colonel, I'm sorry about what I said about you acting irrationally."
"And I'm sorry about . . . what I was thinking."
Lin eyed her suspiciously. "What were you thinking?"
"Uh, that you were an uptight bitch."
Inside his office, an eavesdropping Hammond clapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing.
Lin glared, then to Sam's amazement, she giggled. "That's exactly what I was thinking about you."
Then they were both talking at once.
"I just miss being part of SG-1 . . ."
"You have such a stellar reputation, I was really intimidated . . ."
"I really just want to help . . ."
"But I hope there's room for new ideas . . ."
Sam smiled and held out her hand. "We need to start over. Truce?"
Lin took her hand "Truce."
Hammond took his cue, stepping out of his office. "I understand there's some trouble here?"
"No, sir! Right as rain!" Sam said.
"Everything on track, sir," Lin said.
"Good. Dismissed."
They scurried back to the lab.
He shook his head and smiled and thought that sexist thought every man every where thinks at one time or another: Women!
Poke, poke, poke.
"Mrrmffffffffff!"
"Grrrrrrrrrr."
"Again? That's the third time . . ."
"GRRRRRRRRRR!"
"Eeeeeeeeeek!"
"Hear ye, hear ye, this super-secret covert meeting of the Puke Patrol shall now come to order. I'll now be taking reports. Daniel?"
"Once."
"Teal'c?"
"Once"
"Siler?"
"Twice. And she's not even botherin' to go to the bathroom now, she just pukes in the trash can. It's gross."
"Siler, you have three kids of your own. You know how these things go!"
"Doesn't make it any less gross, sir."
Hammond popped his head in. "Once in the trash can outside my office. It IS gross and the cleaning crews aren't too happy about it, either. General, I want her to check in with Dr. Graber. I'll order her to take leave if I have to."
"I agree, sir. Puke Patrol, you're dismissed."
He made his way to the lab, prepared to carry her to the infirmary if he had to. Dr. Graber had told them both that the morning sickness wasn't unusually bad and there was no need for Sam to leave work if she didn't want to, but better safe than sorry.
He poked his head in the door. "Where's Sam?"
Major Lin looked up from her work. "She went to the infirmary, sir . . ."
His stomach dropped. He bolted.
"Sir! Sir!" Lin called after him, but he was long gone. She hadn't meant to send him into a raging panic. She sighed.
An overwhelming sense of dread stopped him before he entered the infirmary. He closed his eyes, thinking please, please, please, please . . .
He walked through the door, and when he saw her his gut twisted.
She was lying on one of the beds, hooked up to an IV, her eyes closed and one hand low on her belly.
God, no, he thought. Please God, no.