Copyright © Anakin David 2004
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Jack O'Neill closed the folder in front of him with a heavy sigh, his insides churning.
He hated being right sometimes.
He looked tiredly at his watch and the digital numbers confirmed his suspicions about the hour being absolutely decadent: 0312… God! He had been working on that damn case for about four hours and a half!
He rubbed his eyes, sighed once more and stared at the closed folder in front on him. He stood up tiredly, snatching the folder under his arm. He switched the small lamp on his desk and exited his office, locking the door behind him.
He reached his personal quarters on base and collapsed on his bed, not even bothering taking his clothes off. A good night sleep and he would then be able to see things clearer – he hoped.
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Dawn brought Jack O'Neill a headache the size of Alaska, and he had yet to think about how he was going to deal with the contents of the disturbing folder.
He decided to go take a shower and change clothes. As the water ran cascading down his back, it also seemed to help organize his thoughts.
He would go personally. SG-1 was on downtime for eight days, it was Sunday, and he would have to leave the base anyway; his house had not been opened since before SG-1's latest mission.
He dressed in civilian clothes, notified his secretary that he was leaving, snatched the folder underneath his arm and headed for the elevator.
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Half an hour later, he parked his truck in front of the small house.
He remained motionless inside the cab for a few seconds, eyeing the folder dreadfully, then sighed, took the folder, and exited the vehicle.
He climbed the few steps leading to the entrance door and rang.
After a few seconds, Lt. Colonel Carter came to open the door.
She was wearing worn faded jeans and a simple white shirt. Her hair was damp, testifying of her recent shower.
She smiled.
"General!"
"May I come in?" he asked, his face serious.
She frowned, stepping back to allow him entrance and closed the door behind him.
"I need to talk to you." He simply said.
"Something the matter, sir?" she asked, leading the way to the living room.
He flopped on her couch and she sat on a chair opposite.
His head was bowed. He rubbed his face tiredly, then took the folder in his hands.
"Carter, so for you to know, I'm not the bearer of good news." He started by means of introduction.
She frowned in response, and he took that as a means to say 'go on'.
"It has to do with Pete Shanahan." He resumed.
"What's with Pete! He's not dead or injured, is he!" she asked, standing up a look of deep concern on her face.
"Calm down, Carter. As far as I know his health or well being is not in danger." He said as calmly as possible.
She resumed her position on the chair.
"What is it?"
"For some time already the NID – the official NID – has been bugging me about something they discovered a while before our own services confirmed it. I didn't want to believe it was true, since it came from the NID, but it turns out they were right."
Sam nodded frowning, encouraging him to continue.
He decided to take the plunge.
"I never quite understood how Mr. Pete Shanahan miraculously appeared when we captured Osiris, and General Hammond at the time had expressed his concerns to me about that very fact, although he granted you permission to reveal a few things to Mr. Shanahan. Of course, the events that followed distracted us from enquiring further and by the time I was nominated as the new commander of the SGC, I was so engrossed in all the novelties I had to deal with, that I let the case rest even more." He took a deep breath. "Yesterday before you came back from P7B-445, Major Davis brought me this." He said, waving the folder in front of him. "Needless to say the contents did not please me. That's why I am here. The Pentagon let me be the judge of what type of action I should take, but I thought I would let YOU be the judge of it. I don't want to deny my responsibilities, Carter, but it's about you, and in that particular case, I don't feel I have any right to start anything without informing you first, and above all, letting you decide what has to be done."
Sam's worried look grew tenfold.
"Sir, I don't understand…"
His raised hand interrupted her.
"Peter Shanahan did a background check on you just before we captured Osiris. He probably followed us – although I still have to figure how he managed to identify you were in that van, but then again, he's a cop – and that's why he was there when the whole mess erupted, and got himself injured. Why he did that, I don't know. How; through one of his FBI contacts. No valuable information was given to him though, all the locks on your and our files held. I don't know how long you had been involved with him then, but even if you had been for ten years, it still looked suspicious enough for the Pentagon to be alerted, not to mention the NID."
Sam sat disbelieving.
"What are you trying to do, Sir?" she asked coldly, her anger bubbling deep inside.
"Unfortunately nothing, Carter. What I told you is the absolute truth. I assumed you would say something like that though, so I'm gonna leave now. You can check the folder for yourself." He stood up and dropped the folder on her couch.
"I'll be at home if you need me."
He exited the room and her house, driving straight to his place.
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Sam felt her ears burn and she had trouble concentrating.
She stood up suddenly and went to drink a glass of cold water to try and calm her raging thoughts.
Deep inside, she knew the General must be serious or else he would not have come himself. At once, she had thought he was trying to push her away from Pete in a fit of jealousy, but that was childish from her part. She knew the General respected her way too much for that. He might be hurt by the fact she had moved on, but he would never do such a thing.
She put the glass in the sink and came back to her living room.
The folder teased her from its place, where he had dropped it before leaving.
She took a deep breath and went to sit next to it. She reached for it, caressed the cover before opening it, and started to read.
An hour later, barely contained tears were running down her cheeks.
She was not crying over Pete Shanahan.
She was crying over the fact that she had let another man make her feel guilty enough for her to go to such lengths as to reveal what her top secret job was really about. When she thought about his rather hurtful rant the morning after they made love for the first time, it finally made sense and went perfectly with the General's recent revelations.
Because she had been too preoccupied in finding happiness in their fresh relationship to be firm enough about her job's secrecy, Pete Shanahan had made her compromise the security of the Stargate Program.
That was unacceptable.
Pete was due to arrive in the afternoon. He had taken a few days off since she was on leave too. Initially, she had planned on talking to him about her conversation regarding her commitment to him, with General O'Neill before the mission. She had wanted to show Pete she was thinking about a possible future with him, but now… All lay within the pages of the blue folder.
She made a decision.
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She was about to hang up when he picked his phone.
"This better be good!" his harsh voice came out.
"General."
"Oh! Carter."
"Am I interrupting something?"
"What? Oh! No, I was just napping on my couch. Didn't sleep well last night. Everything all right?"
"No. As you might guess."
"Yeah, well. Look if I can do anything…"
"It's okay, sir. I'll deal with it myself. I need to talk to you though."
"Sure, I'll be there in ten--"
"No!" she interrupted. "Wait. I mean, I'd like to come over and talk to you at your place, if it's no inconvenience."
"No problem, Carter. Whenever you want."
"I'll come by the end of the afternoon then, I just need to… Do something first."
"Sure."
A heavy silence settled.
"Okay, sir. See you then."
"Carter?"
"Yes, sir?"
"You're sure you're gonna be okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Just… call, okay?"
A faint smile caressed her lips at the softness in his voice. She was going to miss the quiet intimacy they had reached lately.
"Yes, sir. Bye."
"Bye, Carter."
She hung up and tried to think at her next step. She went to her study, booted her computer and launched the word processor.
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By the time Pete Shanahan's cab left him in front of her door step, she was ready.
She let him in, he dropped his carry-on in the entrance hall and tried to kiss her, but she stopped him.
"We need to talk." Was the only explanation he got.
She led the way to her living room, stopping briefly in her kitchen filling two mugs of coffee, before sitting in front of him much as she had sat in front of the General earlier.
Pete was starting to be worried.
"Sam? Is everything okay?" he asked, trying to reach for her.
She backed from his touch and took a deep breath.
"You remember at the beginning of our relationship, you talked about trust, and sharing each other's life to have a future together?"
"Yes?"
"I've thought a lot about it lately, a future together I mean."
"Yes?"
She once again took a deep breath.
"You know that trust goes both ways, right?"
"Of course!"
"Then tell me why you ran a background check on me the next day?"
Pete looked at her suddenly.
"I--"
"No tales, Pete. You should know that I know absolutely everything!" she stood up, anger rising.
Pete looked crestfallen. He winced at her words.
"That was stupid, I know," he started as ways of an apology.
"Oh that it was. For crying out loud, Pete! We had known each other for what? Two weeks and you ran a background check on me? How's that for a testimony of trust! You contacted the FBI for crying out loud! Like I was a criminal or something!" she accused.
He stood up too, his face apologetic.
"Sam, I know I shouldn't have and--"
"You almost got yourself killed!"
"I know, I--"
"And I went to great lengths and asked for a few personal favors in order to let you in on what's probably the most secret thing on this planet!"
Pete did not respond.
"That was a great proof of your burgeoning love and your trust in me, Pete!"
"I know! I felt sick about that after the hospital and you told me everything. I had planned on telling you, but things were going well between us and I didn't want to spoil that!"
"My God, Pete, are you really that naive to think nobody from the SGC would ever find out?"
He remained silent, his mouth slightly open.
Only her eyes were the testimony of the inner battle she was having, and the fury that had invaded her. Then a sudden calm washed over her. She dropped her head and took a deep breath.
"My commanding officer, General O'Neill, came to bring me evidences that someone had tried to find information about me from the FBI. The Pentagon went back to the source… I don't think I need to elaborate. I'm lucky I haven't been court-martialled for my lack of sensible judgment regarding who I trust. Nevertheless, because of that, I have decided to resign my commission. You are the first to know, General O'Neill will be the next."
"You can't do that, Sam!"
"Yes I can, and I must, thanks to you, Pete Shanahan!" she exploded.
An uncomfortable silence settled.
"Look, Sam, I know it was lame and I'm sorry for it, but you mustn't stop doing what you love most. If I can do anything--"
"I think it's best you leave, Pete," she interrupted.
"What?"
"You heard well," she said coldly.
"Sam, you can't just throw away what we've had for 6 months!" he asked, panicked.
"Pete, what we've had has been a lie for 6 months!" she snapped, her eyes ablaze.
Pete was about to reply, but he shut his mouth. He hesitated one second, then exited the room, picking his carry-on on his way out.
"You know where to find me," he mumbled as he passed her.
Hearing her front door slam shut, Sam collapsed on her chair trembling. She brought her hands to her face, her shoulders shaking.
