Chapter 3

Bright and early the next morning, Jack O'Neill was back in the principal's waiting area, but he was standing this time, not wanting to ruin the crisp lines of his dress uniform. Carter sat easily in the chair he had occupied yesterday, also in dress uniform, one ankle crossed demurely over the other, a smile on her face as she looked curiously around the room.

I'll bet she never got called to the principal's office even once in her entire life, O'Neill thought irritably. Having the uniform on made him feel better, more anchored to the present. The memories he'd had the day before of the teenager who'd spent so much time in the principal's waiting room because he was too busy dreaming of flying or traveling among the stars to care about mundane things like English or Social Studies were locked back in his mind, embarrassed to try and slip out past the neat rows of shiny medals and ribbons that adorned most of the left side of his chest.

That boy had eventually grown up and realized the importance of concepts like duty, responsibility and loyalty. But there was a small part of him that wished he had learned those lessons sooner and not wasted so much time and energy that could have been channeled into more productive pursuits.

The door opened and Linda Schiler walked out with a smile on her face, her hand partially extended. When she saw O'Neill, she stopped for a moment and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Recovering herself quickly, she moved forward again, "General, thank you for stopping by again today. I didn't realize you'd be in uniform, it took me a bit by surprise."

Carter tried to hold back the amused grin that wanted to cross her face at the principal's discomfiture. Even though she was engaged to Pete Shanahan now, Sam could still appreciate how good O'Neill looked in full dress uniform. And she had noticed plenty of other women also admiring the view as they'd walked into the building and down the hall to the principal's office. O'Neill was, of course, so totally focused on their mission, he was oblivious to all the appreciative glances being directed his way.

"I have an important meeting back at the base later and knew I wouldn't have time to change," he said with a shrug. "I hope it's not a problem."

"No, of course not," the principal said, allowing herself a quick glance at the impressive rows of medals and ribbons decorating the uniform. Her own father had been in the military so she recognized many of them, but could not remember ever seeing so many on one person before. It was very clear she had seriously misjudged Jake Wilcox's cousin the day before. From the type and variety of decorations it was obvious the time he wasn't able to spend with Jake was spent in the field and not simply wasted on Air Force bureaucracy or petty politics.

"I wanted you to meet Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter," O'Neill said as Sam got gracefully to her feet to walk over and join them. "Colonel Carter is an astrophysicist and our expert on deep space telemetry. She'll be giving the talk next week and will also be joining me in the career session to discuss opportunities for women in the service."

"Colonel, it's a pleasure to meet you," Linda said offering her hand.

"Ms. Schiler, thank you for allowing me to speak to your students," Carter said, taking the proffered hand and shaking it warmly. "I hope they'll enjoy hearing about our research. I realize it sounds like a dry subject, but I'll do my best to make it interesting for them."

"I'm glad to hear it. Please call me Linda. I've gotten a lot of positive feedback about the idea so far, so I've been considering making it an all-school assembly. Is that all right with you or would you prefer it be limited to upper level students or those specifically interested in astronomy and astrophysics?"

"Whatever works best for you is fine with me. I think the subject matter is general enough that even those not particularly interested in the sciences can grasp it. And we have some fascinating new images from the Hubble that everyone should enjoy. I would like an opportunity to meet with some of your science teachers, if you don't mind, to see if I can tailor the presentation to their specific curricula."

"Of course. I'm sure they'd appreciate that."

"And at some point in the next few days, I'd like to look over the space where the talk will be held to see what equipment I need to bring with me.

"I'll be happy to arrange it."

"It seems that you ladies have everything under control here, so I think I'll head back to the base for my meeting now," O'Neill said. Locking his eyes on Carter's for a moment, he said pleasantly, "Colonel, be sure to call if there's anything else you need me to take care of."

Responding to the real message in his eyes that said 'call me right away if there's any trouble,' Carter gave a brisk, "Yes, sir."

Jake was humming as he headed down the hall to his third period Social Studies class. The pizza outing the night before had been a lot more fun than he'd expected. There had been almost two dozen kids there, taking up five tables in the restaurant, talking back and forth and making the servers crazy. It had been so long, he'd almost forgotten there had actually been fun times the first time he'd gone to high school. Last night had been a good reminder of those times and he was feeling nostalgic.

Then his smile widened as he thought about the goodnight kiss Lindsay had planted on him when he'd stopped in front of her house later in the evening to drop her off. There was no question his body was 16 from the way the hormones were zinging around at even the memory of that kiss.

And to top it all off, he'd gotten a full night's sleep for the first time in over a week, leaving him feeling centered and energized.

The smile was still on his face when he walked through the classroom door, but it slipped and he stopped dead in his tracks for a moment when he saw who was standing at the front of the room. Quickly regaining his composure, Jake strode past his usual seat to the back of the room and slid into the last desk in the middle row where, he hoped, he'd be completely out of Daniel Jackson's view.

"Good morning, class. I'm Mr. Jennings," Jackson said from the front of the room. "Mr. Fletcher had to go in for an emergency appendectomy, so I'll be your substitute for the rest of this week and possibly part of next week, too."

Jake rolled his eyes as he heard several girls giggle and start whispering excitedly to each other at the news of their reprieve from their 60, dry as dust, anal retentive teacher. As the whispering continued, Jake's eyes felt like they were going to roll out of his head and he wanted desperately to bang his head on the desk when he heard the word "cute" being used to describe their substitute. Why me, God? Why are you doing this to me? When I suggested he be a substitute, I didn't mean for MY class!

Jake continued to hunker down in the back of the room thinking about what the next step in his investigation should be as Daniel's voice droned on at the front of the class. Until suddenly he heard the words, "Jacob Wilcox?"

"Hunh," he said, his head shooting up guiltily.

"Mr. Wilcox, there you are. So sorry to disturb you, but according to my seating chart, you're in the wrong place. Why don't you bring your stuff and come up here to your assigned seat . . . right here in front," Daniel said.

Jake didn't miss the amused look or the slightly wicked gleam in Jackson's eye. I'm so screwed, he thought to himself. I NEVER should have teased him about the substitute teacher thing. Dork, I'll bet he really did go home and study up on being a sub just in case he got a chance to stick it to me like this.

"Oh, sure thing, Mr. Jenkins," he said with a cocky grin, as he gathered his backpack and books and moved to the indicated seat, "whatever you say."

"That's Jennings not Jenkins," Daniel responded pleasantly.

"Oh, right, sorry, Mr. Jennings," Jake said shooting Daniel an amused grin that let him know the mistake had not been accidental.

"No problem," Daniel said easily. "I'll make sure you have plenty of reason to remember it."

Damn! I'm so totally screwed, Jake thought miserably as he slid into his seat and pulled out his book.

Samantha Carter unconsciously smoothed the skirt of her dress uniform as she made her way down the empty hall to the girls' bathroom. She could hear the sounds of restless movement from behind the doors she was passing as students prepared to make a break for it as soon as the bell rang.

The principal had told her she was welcome to use the faculty restroom and she intended to take her up on that later in the day, but Carter had a feeling she'd overhear more interesting tidbits from the students. She remembered from her own not so distant days in high school and the Air Force Academy that the female student network always seemed to be buzzing with the hottest gossip and the latest goings on around the school before the faculty and staff even knew what was happening, and sometimes without them ever finding out.

The things I do for my country, she thought as she pushed open the door and was assaulted by the odor of a multitude of different perfumes and hair products mixed together, overlaid by the smell of cleaning products and topped with a hint of cigarette smoke.

Some things never change. Crinkling her nose, Carter went into one of the stalls, wiped off the seat and put a tissue cover on it before sitting down, then pulled a pair of sneakers from her totebag. She heard the bell ring in the hallway as she tossed her heels in the bag and quickly shoved her feet into the sneakers. Almost immediately she heard the door to the bathroom open and a gaggle of girls came pouring in chattering excitedly.

"Oh my god!" came an excited voice. "Can you believe Fletcher might be gone as long as a week and a half? Maybe even longer if there are complications. If we keep this sub there's some possibility I might be able to pass the next test, but if Fletcher's back by then, I'm dead meat. He's so boring, I end up zoning out after five minutes."

"Pray for complications," came another voice.

"Why would you care, Clare? You're Fletcher's pet. Have you ever gotten less than an 'A' in his class?"

"I'm good at all that crap so I'd get an 'A' no matter who was teaching the class," Clare responded matter-of-factly, "but that sub is hot."

"Compared to Fletcher, Mr. Jiminez the 50 year old maintenance guy is hot."

Clare sighed. "You simply have no imagination, Jen. Take a good look at him tomorrow, especially those eyes. I've made the study of the male species into an art form and let me tell you there are some nice lines of muscle hidden under that shirt. Just watch him move and you'll see. Better yet just imagine him without the glasses and shirt."

"Oh, my," came Jen's voice. "Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?"

Carter put her hand over her mouth to stifle the fit of giggles that hit when she realized they were talking about Daniel.

"You think every guy under 60 is hot," came another voice.

"Speaking of which, did you see that Army guy who went into the principal's office earlier. Oh my god! He might be close to 60, but talk about hot!"

"Don't you know anything, Amy?" came Clare's withering voice. "He's not Army, he's Air Force. They have absolutely the best dress uniforms," she continued a bit dreamily. "There is nothing quite as appealing as a man in dress uniform, unless it's watching him take it off."

"Well, what was in the uniform looked good to me," Amy responded resentfully as the other girls giggled.

"God, Amy, he's old enough to be your father, maybe even your grandfather."

Carter had to practically shove her hand down her throat to keep the laughter down at that one.

"Maybe, but neither my father or my grandfather ever looked that good."

Another voice chimed in, "That's so twisted, Amy. You do know who he is, don't you?"

"Of course. He's one of the bigwigs from Cheyenne Mountain," Clare interjected, a trace of boredom in her voice. "He and the female officer that came with him are here about some astronomy speech she's giving and a career day thing."

"That's not what I mean," the other girl said, obviously excited she would be giving them a scoop. "He's Jake Wilcox's cousin."

"What!" came several excited voices.

"I thought Jake didn't have any family."

"Isn't he a little old to be Jake's cousin?"

"Well, it's like a second or third cousin or something like that. Patty was working in the office yesterday when he first came in -- he was wearing civvies then – and again this morning when he arrived."

"Did he look as good in the civvies?" Amy asked wistfully.

"Be quiet, Amy," Clare snapped. "What else did Patty hear?"

"He's a General. His name's O'Neill, I think. And Patty thinks he's around her father's age, Amy -- he'll be 50 next year. The woman is Colonel Carter. Evidently he's somebody really important because he's got a ton of medals and ribbons and he told Ms. Schiler he doesn't get to see Jake very often because of his job."

"Poor Jake," Amy said sympathetically. "You know his parents were killed in a car accident, don't you. And they were both only children so he doesn't have any aunts or uncles or anything like that. And his grandparents are all dead. It must be so lonely for him, living by himself and all. It's a shame his only family is too busy to spend any time with him."

"Well, don't worry about Jake, Amy," Clare said haughtily. "I understand Lindsay McMenamin was all over him at Pizza Palace last night. I'm sure she'll keep him from being too lonely."

There was a fresh round of giggling at that.

"Talking about hot guys," came another new voice, "I had gym out on the field this morning and I saw a gorgeous new guy on the construction crew. Dark coffee skin, really short black hair, and god, the muscles on him."

"Better looking than that new guy who showed up last week?" Jen asked.

"Absolutely. I can't believe you even think he's cute."

"You know, it's kinda weird how many new people are suddenly popping up around here," Clare said. "There's that new custodial guy, the new grounds guy and the new aide in the library that started last week too. And earlier this week there was that guy from the computer company who's doing the software upgrades."

"Talk about dreamy," Jen said, "he's got that Brad Pitt thing going on."

Carter leaned forward in anticipation of some gossip about the mysterious fifth bad guy.

"So what, Clare?" Amy giggled, "You think it's some kind of conspiracy or something?"

"Don't be stupid, Amy," Clare said crossly, "it's just an interesting coincidence, that's all."

"Holy cow, look at the time," Jen suddenly broke in. "We're all going to be late."

There was the rush of feet toward the door and then a string of curses as Carter heard the sound of the bell ringing right outside. Pulling the sneakers off her feet, she quickly pulled the heels back out of the totebag and put them back on, tossed the sneakers back in the bag, opened the stall door cautiously to check for stragglers, then quickly washed her hands and exited the restroom to return to the principal's office.

Feeling his temper spike, Jake spun the dial on his locker a third time, trying to get it to open. The good feelings of earlier that morning were gone, replaced by a simmering resentment. Finally he managed to get the combination right and pulled the door open, allowing it to slam back against the locker next to it. He grabbed the books he'd need for his afternoon classes and threw in the books from his morning classes, feeling some small satisfaction at the loud thunk that advertised how hard he'd tossed them.

True to his word, Daniel had made sure Jake wouldn't forget his alias by calling on him for every third question, whether Jake had his hand raised or not. Jake had the satisfaction of having seen the grudging respect in Daniel's eyes by the end of the class when he had gotten every answer right, but he still resented the fact that Jackson had tried to embarrass him in front of the class.

You used to be my friend. The thought slipped through his mind unbidden and he slammed the locker door with all the force he could muster. No, he was never your friend, he's Jack's friend. You're just the defective copy, remember. The black sheep of the family that everybody tries to pretend doesn't exist.

And good old Jack, parading around school in his full dress uniform, all of his medals and ribbons on full display, for everyone, including the bad guys, to see. Part of him understood why Jack was doing it -- if the bad guys got nervous and bolted, all the kids would be safe – but it still stuck in Jake's crawl that O'Neill was being so blasé in sacrificing all the hard work he had put into setting up this op in the first place.

What am I even doing here? This is such bullshit, he thought, punching the locker in frustration.

"Hey, Jake. You okay?"

Startled, Jake turned toward the owner of the voice. "Oh, hi, Lindsay. Yeah, I'm fine. I've just got some stuff on my mind, that's all."

"I heard the social studies sub was giving you a hard time. Don't worry about it. He'll be gone in a couple of days."

"Yeah, I know," he said, surprised by the feeling of sadness that swept over him at the thought. In a week, maybe less they'd all be gone from his life again -- Daniel, Carter, Teal'c and, best of all, Jack. He knew he should be relieved by that thought, possibly even happy, but he wasn't.

Over the last year, he'd done everything in his power to exorcize the ghosts of Jack O'Neill's life from his reality, to make a new and different life as Jacob O'Neill Wilcox. But now that he'd had a small taste of that old life, he found himself longing for it again, wanting to be back among the people who knew who and what he was, the people he could talk to openly about goa'ulds and death gliders, Asgard and clones.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question, Jake?" Lindsay asked, pulling him out of his dark reverie. "It's kind of personal."

"Only if I don't have to answer if I don't like the question," he said with a half-hearted smile.

"Is General O'Neill really your cousin? I mean, I didn't realize you had a relative at Cheyenne Mountain. My mother works there too."

"He's a distant relative," Jake said, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "He pops up every once in awhile because he feels obligated to keep an eye on me since my parents died. I don't like to talk about it because I know he's a big shot up there now and I don't want anyone here to feel uncomfortable talking to me. It's not like he confides in me or me in him. We're not that close."

"I'm sorry, Jake. It's just that I sometimes overhear my mother talking to my father about work. She can't say much because it's all so hush-hush, but I know she thinks the world of General O'Neill, Colonel Carter and the other people they work with. She came home really upset one time and said if it wasn't for them, we'd all be in big trouble. She never explained what she meant, but I'd never seen her that upset before."

"Yeah, he's something else, all right," Jake said, not even sure himself how he meant it to sound. "They all are."

Lindsay reached out and put her hand comfortingly on his arm, "You don't have to be alone any more, Jake -- not if you don't want to be. I'm here for you -- if you want me to be."

Jake felt his throat close as a swirl of emotions swept through him so quickly, he didn't have time to identify them all -- but one of the ones he did recognize was loneliness. Finally, he managed to force out, "Thanks Lindsay. I appreciate it. That really means a lot to me."

She smiled at him and slid her hand down to his and squeezed it. "I better go before I'm late for class," she said. "Can you meet me after practice?"

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but the lie that had come so easily to his lips refused to pass through them. "I don't know," he finally said, trying to stay as close to the truth as he could. "I may have to see Jack -- General O'Neill -- later this afternoon. If I'm not there when you're done, don't wait for me, okay."

"Okay," she said, "but do you mind if I hope you're able to make it."

He smiled at that. "I hope I'm able to make it too. See you later."

She started to turn away, then impulsively turned back and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "Just some incentive," she said with a coquettish smile as she turned and hurried down the hall.

Jake grinned at her retreating form, still feeling the warmth of the kiss on his cheek. That warmth slowly faded along with his smile as he watched her disappear around a corner. I don't care what Jack thinks, I'm getting those guys. I'm not going to let them get away and possibly come back later when we've let down our guard again. None of them are ever going to hurt her -- or any of the rest of them -- as long as I'm alive to stop them!