Secrets and Shadows: Under Siege
Part Five
Sam couldn't stifle a chuckle when she came out from her afternoon nap and saw what Teal'c was reading. 'How To Live With Your Pregnant Wife.'
He raised his eyes from the book and regarded her owlishly, "It is a most educational text, Samantha Carter."
"I didn't know we were married, Teal'c," she said as she crossed the room and sat down opposite him.
"Were we on Chulak, there would be grounds for me to claim you as my wife," he stated. "According to the ancient texts, the only woman who may handle a warrior's staff weapon is his wife. You have handled my staff weapon many times, therefore, according to Chulakian law, you are my wife." Dark eyes twinkled at her, although the rest of the face changed little, "Although there is debate about exactly what 'staff weapon' they are describing. Under the second definition, I believe you would be exempt."
Sam laughed. "No offence, Teal'c, but I believe I'm glad we're not on Chulak."
His mouth curved a little and he inclined his head to her. "Do you feel rested?"
"I do," she leaned forward and began shuffling through her books. "I promise not to be so grumpy this evening when Colonel O'Neill and Daniel arrive."
The guys were due to arrive tonight, having promised to cook dinner. Sam wasn't entirely sure about the sudden 'togetherness' aspect that the Colonel seemed to be encouraging. It smacked of overcompensation.
She'd protested it to the Colonel on Wednesday when he came to her office to speak with her about it.
"Sir, there's really no need..."
"There is."
"You were right..."
"I was wrong," he interrupted. "I was wrong and I had my head up my ass - as Daniel keeps telling me - and I shouldn't have snapped at you in the briefing." He stared at his hands. "Look, we're a team. We've been a team for as long as the SGC has had teams. We're still a team, in spite of the fact that you're no longer going to go through the Stargate with us. We're the first, and the best and the closest, and we're not going to give that up. I'm not going to give that up." The concession was highly unusual, for him; he almost never made things personal between them, and it shut her up long enough for him to regard her and ask, "Or do you want us to stay far, far away from you?"
She didn't. Not really.
The long and the short of it was that he was in her life to stay, and Daniel and Teal'c with him.
And that was that.
It really wasn't such a terrible thing. It just took a bit of...adjustment. And a lot of tears which she'd cried in the privacy of her bedroom with her pillow pulled over her head.
He'd moved on. She would have to do so, too.
So, tonight, when he turned up with Daniel, she'd be herself again. She'd laugh at his jokes and hope for the quiet, proud looks he sometimes gave her when he thought she wasn't looking. She'd ask about Melissa without turning a hair, and really listen to his answer. And if she needed a few minutes in the bathroom to breathe deeply and regain her composure, she could always blame it on the not-just-morning sickness. Like the pregnancy sickness, it would eventually get better.
Just one more adjustment she would have to make in her life.
As Teal'c resumed his reading and Sam regarded the array of books and journals on her coffee table, she contemplated the thought that all these decisions would have been so much easier to make if her hormones hadn't been swinging between partying like there was no tomorrow and waking up with the hangover that meant tomorrow was already here.
And one decision in particular.
Now that her team-mates were rallying around her, the most pressing issue Sam was facing was what she was going to do about Pete.
Sam sat back and rubbed at her stomach. She'd have to talk to Pete pretty soon; she was due for an ultrasound. It would be polite to set a time when he could make it. Of course, that would mean actually calling him to talk about the baby.
Unsurprisingly, she didn't want to talk to him.
The flowers had stopped, although the calls continued, but he hadn't turned up at the door since Monday. She'd spoken to him once since then, a conversation that went nowhere - like every other conversation she'd ever had with him. When he didn't get his way, he pleaded, he cajoled, he charmed, and when he didn't get it, he sulked and snapped at her.
No, nothing new about that.
She'd call him on Monday about the ultrasound, and speak with him then. Leave the weekend unsullied by yet another argument.
Although it appeared that it was already too late to hope for that.
The chime of the doorbell rang through the house and Sam winced as she rose to her feet to answer it. The Colonel and Daniel weren't due for another two or three hours, and she didn't get too many other visitors other than her team-mates; she never had.
"If you desire, Samantha Carter, I will deal with the person at the door myself," Teal'c offered.
"I can handle it, Teal'c." Sam couldn't rely on the guys for everything and she usually didn't need to. It was just all the hormones in her, making her feel that it would be nice to have someone wrap her up in cotton wool and treat her as though she was precious.
She hated herself for the contradiction. She could be strong and independent and tough and she wanted someone to respect that, but at the same time, she wanted to be precious and cared about and adored, and she needed someone to see that in her.
Most people she worked with saw the first aspect of her but not the second; Pete had seen the second aspect, but had never managed to respect the first.
Sooner or later, she'd have to learn to deal with him on her own. The guys were here now, but they wouldn't always be around to bail her out.
How hard could it be?
She took a deep breath as she padded down the hallway to the front door. But a glance out through the curtains showed a somewhat unexpected guest.
It was Malcolm Barrett.
He looked very different compared with all the previous times she'd seen him in his persona as an agent of the NID. Dressed in jeans and a sports jacket, he presented as though he were an ordinary guy and not...well, not an agent for one of the most secretive organisations in the US intelligence community.
Sam blinked once, then opened the door to him. "Agent Barrett."
"Major Carter." He glanced over the t-shirt and sweat pants she'd put on for a comfortable day at home. "I'm guessing you weren't expecting guests."
Certainly not you, she said, mentally. Out loud, she just observed, "And to what crisis do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Agent?"
His smile was surprisingly mischievous, reminding her a little of a boy she'd known in junior high who could cause all kinds of trouble without ever getting caught. "No crisis, although I could probably arrange to have one created if you wish."
"I think I'll refuse, thank you," she told him with aplomb. "There's quite enough happening around here at the moment."
"What's new about that?" The blue-grey eyes twinkled at her before they glanced over her shoulder to the corridor beyond. "May I come in, or did you want to conduct this conversation on the porch?"
Sam stepped back and waved him in, "We're having a conversation?"
"I know it's hard to believe," he said. "But we are. Or we need to." And the note of seriousness in his voice worried her.
Sam closed the door behind him, "What's happened?"
Barrett regarded her in the shadowed hallway. "You tell me." He pulled out a letter and handed it to her.
The paper crackled lightly in her hands as she unfolded it.
It was a printout of an email.
From: samanthacartercheyenne.gov
To: kayleebvendrossapollyon.gov
Date: 6th August, 2004
Subject: tests
Dr. Vendross,
Two years ago, you expressed an interest in speaking with me about my time as host to the Tok'ra Jolinar for the purposes of medical research. At the time, I was reluctant to submit to such a request and refused any further inquiries regarding my willingness.
Circumstances in my life have caused me to reconsider this view and I am willing to undertake a series of tests - of my choosing and approving - in exchange for a favour of the NID.
Please contact me if you are still interested.
Major Samantha Carter.
It was somewhat unnerving to have her words returned to her in such a manner; through the hands of a man who she had never expected to see standing in her hallway. Sam folded the paper back up and handed it to him.
"It seems straightforward enough to me," she said calmly.
"It doesn't to me." Barrett retorted. "You've held off from these tests for two years and all of a sudden you want to cut a deal?" He glanced her over, blue-grey eyes lingering on the slight curve of her pregnancy, "Especially at this time, when you know you should be looking after yourself..."
No question about how he knew: if her pregnancy was public knowledge in the corridors of the SGC, it would be common knowledge in the halls of the NID. The question was what he was doing here, so clearly on his own time and not the company's, and with the apparent intention of talking her out of a decision that fell quite clearly in his organisation's favour.
"Agent Malcolm Barrett."
Damn. She'd completely forgotten about Teal'c.
He stood now in the doorway between the hallway and the living room, blotting out the sunlight's glow falling through her windows.
"Jaffa Teal'c." Barrett, it seemed, had developed his own sense of verbal humour in dealing with the stoic Jaffa. "Are you well?"
"I am well, Agent Malcolm Barrett." The formality of the address stood as an indicator of Teal'c's opinion of the agent. "However I am curious regarding these 'tests' you have mentioned. Samantha has not spoken of them at all."
Sam didn't quite wince. From the sound of it, Teal'c was withholding judgement right now, but when he found out about the plans for her deal with the NID...
"Teal'c, it's nothing," she began, "Just an exchange with the NID. I allow them to run a few of the more invasive tests they've been trying to persuade me into over the last couple of years, and in return, they leave me and my child alone."
"I see." Teal'c stated, thoughtfully. "And it will have occurred to you, Samantha, that the NID cannot necessarily be trusted in this instance?"
"I've taken steps, Teal'c," she assured him. "General Hammond is aware of the steps I've taken, including having all examinations take place at the SGC by personnel whom I trust."
"And you're so sure that we don't have ways of bypassing even those precautions?" Barrett demanded of her.
Sam wasn't, but to admit it would have been tantamount to handing herself over to the NID. She'd taken all the precautions she could think to take and insured it with a presidential edict and various layers of security. "Sure enough to make the offer."
She saw the flash of respect in his eyes and felt a moment of regret that his interest had only been made clear after she'd begun dating Pete.
"Then I see my trip was valueless," he said, lightly enough. "I apologise for taking up your time, Major Carter, Teal'c..."
"Would you care to stay for tea?"
Sam blinked as both she and Barrett turned to look at Teal'c. He regarded them with nothing more than a quizzically-tilted eyebrow. "Don't I get the right to choose my own guests anymore, Teal'c?" She was more surprised than annoyed at the invitation. The concession was not something she would have expected of Teal'c at all.
"Are we not married, Samantha Carter?"
Sam grinned; she couldn't help it. She grinned even harder when Barrett turned a peculiar shade of red and asked, "Have I missed something?"
But she had to excuse herself when Teal'c held up the book and let the NID agent read the title. Her bladder just couldn't hold out.
When she returned to the living room, Teal'c was being decidedly affable towards Barrett, and Sam was at a loss to know why. While asking the agent to stay with them for tea was not something she would have thought of, it was certainly nothing she would ever have expected of Teal'c.
It wasn't that she minded, exactly; it was merely that she couldn't escape the feeling that the Jaffa was somehow being sneaky in a very direct manner.
Sam made Teal'c take the rubbish out, telling him that if they were married, that was his responsibility. She'd just begun to fill the kettle when the phone began to ring.
Barrett looked askance at her when she let it go to the answering machine, but didn't move from his stool by the table until the caller left their message.
And this time, it was who Sam expected it to be.
Through the digital speaker system, Pete's voice echoed, tense with anger and frustration.
"Sam? Sam? I know you're listening to this. You haven't answered any of my calls, but I know you're not going offworld or anything like that..." There was some noise in the background. "Pick up the phone, Sam! We need to talk!" Sam didn't pick up and she didn't look at Barrett, although she could feel his eyes watching her as the silence lengthened. "Okay, so you're avoiding me. Look, we had our problems but all that's in the past! We need to have a conversation about this child that's going to last longer than five minutes - and which isn't going to be monitored by any of your friends. Just you and me - the way it should be."
Just you and me, and baby makes three, Sam thought, wanting to laugh and cry all at once. She didn't dare pick up the phone and start talking, because it was very tempting to believe in his promise of happily ever after. She should know better, but, like Mulder on the X-Files, she wanted to believe.
The last couple of days had been good, with the guys around and supporting her. It had been better than she'd ever hoped considering she was off SG-1. And she knew better than to think that this was going to last, either. Crises would happen and missions would go wrong, and the odds were that they'd be taken away from her by something...
But wasn't that life?
"Christ," his voice became muffled and he spoke to someone off the phone, asking for a minute before he came back on. "Look, Sam, things are mad at work right now, half the officers are on leave and this case we've been working on... I don't have time to chase up all the calls you don't return and you're really just being stubborn. I could be a good father to our child! I want to do the right thing by you, but you won't let me because you're too busy thinking of yourself!"
There was some truth in what he was saying. Her reasons for holding off were selfish: she didn't want to go back to what their relationship had been. She didn't want to live with the onus of always being the one in the wrong, always being the one expected to submit, always being the one on the off-foot. And that was how things had been when they were dating.
Was it selfish to want to be her own person? To want to have her experiences and history validated and accepted? To get to make the decisions about her life and her body? To be who she was - soldier, scientist, and woman, all three - and not have to make excuses or apologies?
She'd never been able to do that with Pete. He accepted her on his terms and his terms alone.
"Sam, our biggest problem was always your work, and now you're giving it up, it means we'd have more time to spend together, more time for our child. I only want the best for us and our child..."
He was rambling and seemed to sense it, because the plea in his voice vanished and now he sounded sulky, "I guess you're not going to pick up the phone then? Just answer one of my calls - you said you were willing for me to get to see my child, but you won't contact me - what am I supposed to do but leave messages?" There was a muffled exchange elsewhere, something about someone wanting to see him, and then Pete returned. "I'm going to call back tomorrow when I have some time off, Sam, you know I will. I told your friends that they should get used to me being in your life; you'd better get used to me calling you as long as you don't call back! So call me."
The beep signalled the end of that very one-sided conversation.
Without a word, Sam walked over and pressed the 'delete' button on the answering machine. Then she turned to Barrett and kept her expression as calm as she could manage. "What kind of drink would you like?"
He was still staring at the phone. "That was an informative phonecall," he murmured, looking at her at last. "That's the guy you were seeing back in March?"
"Yes." Sam had turned down his invitation to dinner at the time because she'd been seeing Pete. Given her pregnancy, and Pete's continuing obsession with her, it made the present situation was all the more humiliating. Even back then she'd been aware that not everything in the relationship had been quite as rosy as she'd tried to make it, but she'd figured that a man in the hand was worth two in the bush; even if the bushes were the NID and the SGC.
"And you get a lot of calls from him?"
"Enough." Sam thought of all the messages she'd deleted, the repeated pleas and accusations, the endless uncertainty of whether or not she could live with herself if she went back to Pete, and she felt a little niggle of irrational anger. Her hand clenched around the jar of coffee grounds. "It's like a story," she said harshly. "Girl meets boy, girl dates boy, girl sleeps with boy, girl gets knocked up by boy, girl dumps boy, girl discovers she's pregnant..."
Something in her was in disbelief, asking if she'd really said that to this man who was more or less a complete stranger. Before she knew it, her elbows were on the table and her head was in her hands, and she was crying and making a fool of herself.
Hormones, she told herself, as she began wiping them away to no avail. It's just hormones...
Then there was an arm around her back, and Barrett was leading her back to the dining table and sitting her down with a firm and gentle hand.
Tears streamed down her face, dripping messily over her cheeks and chin and between her fingers, and she was flushed from embarrassment as much as the overflow of emotion. Sam hated not being in control of her emotions; and at this moment, she wasn't even sure why she was crying, let alone how she could get herself to stop.
Someone was rubbing her back in circles, telling her to take a deep breath. She tried, but the sobs kept bursting out of her, relentless.
Distantly, she heard the door open and shut, and Teal'c's voice, "What has happened to Major Carter?"
"She received a call from Detective Shanahan," Barrett answered, quietly. The hand on her back, which she suddenly realised to be his, didn't stop rubbing. "Has he been doing this much?"
"He has left many messages on Samantha's answering machine," Teal'c replied. She heard him moving about in the kitchen, and a moment later, a glass was laid on the table before her. "Major Carter, will you have some water?"
Her sobs had eased enough that she could drink the water, and she accepted the glass from Teal'c. By the time she'd finished drinking it, the hand on her back had vanished, and Malcolm Barrett was making his own coffee.
"There are cookies in the jar next to the kettle," she said, wiping away the last streaky trails of her tears. "If you want one."
Barrett shook his head. "The coffee will be enough, Major, thank you."
He didn't let her take over the process of making the coffee, although he did stand back and allow her to fetch creamer and sugar for him to add to his beverage. And neither he, nor Teal'c, said anything more about her breakdown or the event which had caused it.
Instead, the two men engaged in a discussion of exactly how much the NID had changed since the dismissal of Colonel Simmons and 'his branch' of that organisation. As a sideline, it appeared that they were disputing the degree to which Harry Maybourne's influence had remained in the section charged with the task of keeping track of the SGC.
Sam followed the discussion without getting involved. After the brief upset, probably hormonal more than anything else, she was feeling the urge to be sick. At present, it was just a pressure in her stomach, uncomfortable, but not requiring her urgent attention. Yet.
"We're not the same organisation," Barrett was saying, quite calmly for a man who'd just been accused of technological theft. "Not just in the matter of people, but in terms of our outlook. The people who were most influential in that direction are gone..."
"And yet Samantha Carter still feels it needful to set up an arrangement by which she and her child may live without fear of being used as experimental test subjects." Teal'c observed, but without the animosity that might have been expected of a man who had been the target of the NID's avarice enough times to make him eternally wary of that organisation.
Sam was astonished to realise that her team-mate was looking at Barrett as a possible ally in the NID. It should have come as no surprise; Teal'c had been trained to think strategically, even if he was not always required to use it in the service of the SGC.
"I can't speak for Major Carter's decision to insure herself against future policy changes," the NID agent said, wryly. "But it's a practical move. She would be more susceptible to exploitation of her state than most."
"Then do you have any suggestions on how I could become less susceptible to exploitation of my state?" Sam asked, a little more waspishly than she'd intended.
"You seem to have already taken measures, if what you've said is any indication," Barrett said.
"But you came here to make sure I knew what I was doing."
"I did." That was all he seemed to be willing to say on the matter, although he looked a little flushed as he rose from his chair. "Thank you for the coffee, Major; and thank you for both the invitation and the discussion, Teal'c."
"You are most welcome, Agent Barrett."
As they walked down the hallway to the door, Barrett muttered, "Why do I get the feeling that he was vetting me?"
Sam shot him a smile, "Probably because he was." She dropped her voice even further. "And you should talk very quietly, he has excellent hearing."
They'd reached the front door with the white voile curtains that prevented most people from looking in, and as Barrett put his hand down on the doorknob, he asked, "Can he hear through glass and wood?"
Out on the porch, the neighbourhood was quiet with the somnolent peace of a Saturday afternoon. Sam stood in the sunlight at the porch's edge and lifted her face to the sun, closing her eyes against the piercing glare of its rays. Unconsciously, her hand rested on her stomach, and she rubbed it, feeling the discomfort of lunch settle a little more.
When she opened her eyes, Barrett was looking at her in a way that made her duck her head and blush. There was a very frank appreciation in his gaze, and something in her shied away from it, even as something in her grinned and unfurled in pure feminine pleasure at being admired.
Upon seeing her flush, he looked away, out at the street and spoke, almost distantly. "You know, I was going to come and see you a month ago."
"Why didn't you?"
His smile was rueful, and he looked as though he was missing a patch of grass to scuff. "Would you believe I chickened out?"
That elicited a laugh from her. She was so accustomed to dealing with him in a professional situation that the schoolboy manner was unexpectedly charming. "So seeing you here at all is a big step?"
"Pretty much." He looked out over the street and his demeanour changed slightly. "You know that your ex-boyfriend did a background check on you before he was authorised to know about the project."
"Yes." She knew. Pete had admitted it after he got shot in the stakeout. She'd been a little worried by the lack of trust he'd shown in her, but Pete had been very persuasive about how it was just a one-off, how he loved her so much he didn't want to be shut out of any part of her life... And she'd believed him, as much because she wanted to believe him, as because he could be very...persuasive when he chose.
"His contact in the Pentagon didn't have access and knew better than to dig any deeper than the top layer. Shanahan was advised against continuing his investigations. But he did. Which resulted in the scenario with Sarah Gardiner's Goa'uld."
Sam watched his profile, then looked him square in the face when he turned back to her. The clean-cut lines of his face were perfectly open, but, at the same time, carefully closed. This man understood secrets, their currency and cost, much like Colonel O'Neill. And, like the Colonel, he kept his secrets out where people could see, but didn't look.
"What else is there?" He wouldn't have gone this far if he didn't intend to tell her something - something important.
He turned his face towards her, "Understand that this whole conversation is off the record, Major." That was all the warning she received as he continued. "After the confrontation with the Goa'uld, NID tagged him as a security leak. His proximity to you, combined with his lack of discretion in the incident, landed him in the danger zone."
Cool summer zephyrs turned to chilly autumn breezes in a moment. Sam felt the beginnings of dread forming in her stomach, adding to the discomfort already there. "And what happens when someone lands in the danger zone?"
"Six years ago, he probably would have been met with an unfortunate accident." Barrett's smile was grim, and Sam was reminded of Armand Zelig's death.
"And now?"
"Just monitoring."
Sam had a feeling that 'just monitoring' was a little more rigourous than the agent made it sound. She also had a feeling that there was a warning in his words. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because your letter to Dr. Vendross indicates that you're having concerns about the safety of your child," Barrett said, studying her expression. "I'm pretty sure you've realised that you'll never be free of the project, Major, for the very reason that you're arranging the testing schedule with Dr. Vendross. For the rest of your life - and that of your child - you will be associated with the Stargate project, even if you never work on it again. As such, anyone who enters your life from outside the project will be checked and double-checked to a degree that would give the civil liberties unions nightmares until kingdom come."
"Including Pete."
"Especially him. Given the history of his indiscretion, his knowledge of the Stargate project, and his status as father of your child, he'll be under observation until the program is no longer under classified status." He suddenly seemed to find great interest in his hands. "I understand you're debating how involved you want him to be in your life and the life of your child," he said. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. "Your child's safety will largely depend on the security of the information about him or her. Information is power, after all. You may want to consider how safe it will be to have a man who doesn't understand the meaning of 'classified' around your child on a daily basis."
"Are you saying...?"
"I'm saying that loose lips sink ships, Major." The intensity of his expression seemed out of place in the somnolence of the Saturday afternoon, but she couldn't ignore his seriousness as he told her. "You'll probably find it hard to believe, but my organisation may not be the greatest danger to your child at all."
Her stomach was still churning when Sam came inside.
Teal'c had cleaned up the table and the kitchen - a nicety she appreciated - and was back on the lounge, reading intently. He regarded her with one arched eyebrow as she entered, but, upon observing that she was in no mood to talk, returned to his reading.
Sam sat back on her sofa and stared into space. She couldn't ignore the warning Barrett had given her. My organisation may not be the greatest danger to your child at all.
Well-aware that Barrett's warning was probably not entirely altruistic, Sam knew there was an element of truth in his words. Pete's discretion was not exactly proven, his ability to leave things alone non-existent. A healthy curiosity was one thing; a failure to recognise when to step back became dangerous - to the individual and those around him. It became especially dangerous when dealing with projects classified by the military.
Not for the first time, Sam questioned the wisdom of telling Pete about the child at all.
"Just because a man is capable doesn't give him the right to be a father..."
"And just because the woman gets to bear the child doesn't mean she gets a right to decide whether or not the father should be told!"
Both Daniel and the Colonel had made good points from their differing histories. Daniel's experience as a foster child had moved him through many households before he reached adulthood, giving him the broader experience of people and families and family issues. In comparison, the Colonel's experience as a father revolted against the prospect of a man never being allowed to know his child.
But the Colonel had been right. Ultimately, there would have been no way to keep the child's existance from Pete.
Her gaze fell upon the books on the table. Somehow, in the last two weeks, she'd acquired more books on pregnancy and parenting than any single mother needed. Most of them stressed how the pregnancy would bring out any issues in the relationship between the parents and that clear lines of communications had to be established long before the child was born.
They had that much correct, anyway.
The question Sam wanted the answer to was how she was supposed to manage the relationship between Pete and her child, when her own relationship with Pete wasn't anywhere near solid.
Unconsciously, her hand crept to her stomach, cradling the slight swell of her unborn child.
There were too many questions and not enough answers.
End of 'Under Siege'
Part Three: 'Taking Sides' will be up in a week.
CHARACTER NOTES REMINDER: For the character of Pete Shanahan, I extrapolated on the base of what the writers of the show gave us in the Season 7 episode 'Chimera' (obsessive, paranoid, manipulative, and inept) and simply haven't smoothed everything over with a 'no harm, no foul' at the end.