AN: Ok, guys, this is where you'll just have to bear with me with the numbers. If my guestimates are wrong, I hope they're close enough that you can still play along. Enjoy! And thank you to everyone who reviewed previous chapters! Those reviews really mean a lot!

Chapter Four

She'd warned him. He couldn't deny it. Not even to himself, regardless of how much he desperately wanted to pretend she hadn't so he could blame her for his mistake. No, it was all his fault. He'd ignored her lecture on how very important it was for him to go through the gate at exactly the right time and he'd gotten exactly what he deserved. He remembered the disconcerting feeling of being in two times simultaneously and he decided it was far more upsetting having done it alone.

Daniel wasn't there to rant about how fascinating it would be to studyextinct cultures up close. Teal'c wasn't there to fight beside him if it came to that. And Carter - well, honestly, he just always felt better when she was at his side no matter where, or when incidentally, they were. He sighed to himself and decided it was just as well that she wasn't there at the moment because she would be very, very disappointed in him.

At least they weren't about to test fire a missile this time. As far as he could tell, he'd happened upon one of the few periods of time when the Cheyenne Mountain Complex wasn't being used for some top secret project. The gate room was empty; the control room unmanned. Just as well, it meant fewer questions about who he was and how he'd materialized out of thin air. And as luck would have it, he was in uniform, originally intended to impress those primitive friends ofCarter and Daniel. So none of the scarce airmen who guarded the mostly empty halls thought to bother a general, even if they didn't know who he was.

He was surprised at the ease with which he made it to the surface and borrowed a car from the motor pool. They couldn't possibly have checked his identification too closely or they would have discovered an awful lot of discrepancies. His next stop was a gas station, where he nonchalantly picked up the newspaper. He dared not to look at the date until he said a quick prayer, hoping it had only been a few years, that he'd be able to findCarter in the town and get home. He was still too afraid to look at the date in public; instead he drove to a nice, empty parking lot where he could feel free to freak out about the date without witnesses, just in case it was really, really bad. It was only then that he pulled the paper in front of him and glanced at the date.

He tossed the paper on the seat beside him and hung his head. He'd been hoping for better, but he reasoned eighteen years was better than thirty. His original plan had been to find Carter, hopefully at some point after they'd met so she'd be willing to help him without question. So that was out. At least, as opposed to their trip to 1969,Carter was old enough to talk in 1987.

He knew she was his only option for getting home, since she was undoubtedly as brilliant at 18 as she was at 36. He was willing to take a gamble on her knowing enough without any experience to still be able to help him. He was willing to face her wrath for screwing with the timeline or whatever she'd get mad about when he got home. Hell, he was willing to face her wrath for screwing with the timeline just to see her at 18.

Jack took a deep breath and pointed the car towards the Air Force Academy. He figured it would be pretty easy to get someone there to tell him where to find Carter - he was a general, after all. That ought to carry weight with the cadets. The drive seemed to take forever; Jack blamed it on the fact that he was far more excited to see Carter than he should have been. He couldn't help but recall the conversation about fate. Had she always known, as General Hammond had, that he had approached her for help when she was 18? Was that the reason she'd always been so opposed to time travel? Was his visit to her that memory of something that hadn't happened yet she'd mentioned? Or was he truly changing something by turning to her?

He thought maybe knowing that he'd needed her help was the reason she fought so hard to get on the Stargate program. But he was also afraid that by asking for her help, provided she was truly as concerned with preserving the timeline as she let on, then he might influence her to stay away from the program altogether. Then they would never meet, and he undoubtedly would have been killed years earlier when the earth had been destroyed without her help to stop it. Of course, if he didn't live long enough to go back in time and dissuade her from joining the program, did that then mean that she did join and therefore everything happened just as he remembered it?

That was the point where his head started to hurt. So he stopped thinking about it. He thought back to his own life in 1987. He'd been married. Sara hadn't even been pregnant yet. His first instinct was to wish he could go back, to relive those years, to be a father again. But the longer he thought about it, the more he knew he'd been right when he counseled Malachi to stop the time loop - he couldn't go through losing Charlie again and he would, if Carter was right about things happening the way they were supposed to. As much as he wanted to believe Charlie's fate had been a mistake, the truth was, he couldn't imagine not being a part of the Stargate program, not staying with the Air Force, not having Carter in his life.

He stood beside the car in the parking lot of the Air Force Academy, uncertain of his plan to contact Carter. It waspossible for him to just wait it out, spend a few years fishing at his cabin, until Carter would remember him and then she could send him back. But as much as he loved fishing, he wasn't really sure he wanted to fish for an entire decade. He knew he had no choice besides finding Carter, but he was still nervous. He was sure she was going to be the exact same - just younger - which meant she was going to get very, very angry with him for interfering in her life, for changing their history. The problem with having Carter get mad was that Jack had discovered it was absolutely impossible to win an argument with her unless he ordered her to concede. And he was really hoping to make a good impression on her, which would be difficult to do if he made her angry then ordered her to say he was right.

He found the registrar's office easily and the young cadet working at the desk washad no qualms withgiving him the details of Carter's schedule. Then it only took asking four more cadets along the way before he finally found one who took pity on him and walked him to the door of the physics lab. Jack glanced in the small glass window. He was sure he'd recognize her confident, self-assured, damn near perfect self even with the age difference. There weren't a lot of choices; there was, in fact, no choice. There was only one person in the lab - a person Jack was immediately able to rule out. He grabbed the first cadet who walked by.

"I'm looking for Sam Carter. Samantha. Any idea where I might find her?"

The boy nodded at the window Jack had just looked through. "That's her there, sir."

"Are you kidding?" Jack looked again at the lone figure, trying to reconcile the gawky girl with the Carter he knew. The girl's hair was long and loose, breaking at least one regulation right there. Her blazer was haphazardly hanging off one of the stools. Her uniform blouse was wrinkled and untucked and at least two sizes too big for her.

"Word has it, sir, that if she weren't a general's daughter, she'd have been expelled as soon as she got here." The boy's tone was conspiratorial, as though he thought he was winning points by putting Carter down. After a few pointed minutes of silence, the boy realized Jack wasn't impressed. "I'm late for a class, sir." He saluted dutifully.

Jack glared at him, offering a few words of advice as he darted down the hall. "You need to learn a little something about teamwork, cadet!" Even as the boy scrambled away, Jack had to admit Carter wasn't exactly officer material yet. She wasn't really Carter at that point; she was just Sam. He thought about knocking, but changed his mind quickly. Whether or not she was the perfect cadet, she would definitely jump at the sight of a general. He wanted to enjoy the short time he had to observe her. It was a rare opportunity to see Sam before she was polished and put-together, when she was as awkward and unsure of herself as he normally felt. He slipped through the door quietly, careful to make no noise. It wouldn't have mattered if he'd slammed the door; she wouldn't have heard anyway. She was sobbing, whining hysterically into the phone that was hidden behind far more hair than he could ever believe Sam having. Her voice was so distraught that he wanted to comfort her, but her words stopped him in his tracks.

"I can't do it, Daddy. I hate it here. I want to come home. Please!" She stopped, probably to be chastised.

His blood ran cold at the thought. If she quit, nothing good would come of it.

"But, Daddy, they're mean! I hate them. Please let me come home!"

At that moment, he absolutely hated Jacob Carter. His daughter was crying, sobbing, pleading with him to come home and Jacob's 'no' was loud enough for Jack to hear across the room. Of course, he knew if Jacob relented, the future of the world - hell, the whole universe, would be dim. Not to mention Jack's very own personal hell without knowing Samantha Carter.

"Daddy, please! Wait - no -don't-" Her words cut off as she stared disbelievingly at the phone. Jack couldn't believe it either - that Jacob would ever be so cruel as to hang up on his daughter. Jack fought his instincts to close the distance between them and wrap young Sam in a hug. He managed to hold back because she would probably not welcome such a move from a strange man who was, for the moment at least, thirty years older than her. Instead he cleared his throat, not enjoying the terrified shock on Sam's face. Yes, it was definitely the same Sam, but thankfully, he didn't often see her looking like such a wreck. That would not be good for his emotional well-being. He watched her drop the phone and hop off the stool she'd been perched on. Her movement stopped there; she froze, almost comically. Jack could tell she wasn't sure what to do first - wipe at the tears, pull herself together, or salute him. He took pity on her and reached for the door.

"Let's try this again. I'm going to go back out to the hall for a minute. You square yourself away in the meantime, deal?" He waited for her nod before he turned away. He stood in the hallway longer than he figured he needed to, just to be sure he wouldn't upset her by coming back too quickly.

She was ready for him when he returned, already standing at attention. He couldn't help but smile warmly at her. She still looked like she needed a hug. Her eyes were still red. But the moment he met her eyes, he felt the familiar rush - the warmth, the comfort, the unspoken love. Strangely enough, she seemed to feel it too - he noticed her relax the slightest bit. His smile turned into a chuckle that he couldn't suppress. Sam looked offended, then unsure, and then just curious. He'd always wondered if she'd felt their connection when they'd first met or if it had just been wishful thinking on his part. He finally had his answer. The knowledge caught him off-guard and he found himself unable to explain his laugh. He knew he didn't have to - not with his rank, but he felt guilty for the complex he was probably giving her just standing there and laughing.

"General O'Neill, how can Cadet Carter be of assistance?"

Her question only served to make him laugh again - she was politely asking what the hell he was doing there. He shook his head as he sat down on the stool next to the one she'd abandoned. "For crying out loud, Carter, at ease. First thing you can do is stop talking like that. It just confuses me." He watched as she folded her arms stifly behind her. "Sit, Carter, and don't you ever mistake me for one of those stuffed-shirt, follow-the-regs type officers, got it?"

Sam obediently sat down on her stool; her hands clasped nervously in her lap. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." She looked scared. She averted her eyes, but periodically she would glance up, catch his eye, and look away again. Repeatedly.

It was making him nervous. "What, Carter?"

Judging from the blush that spread across her cheeks and down her neck, he knew whatever she was thinking had nothing to do with regulations or her current crisis. He was flattered - embarrassed - but flattered. It answered yet another one of those questions he had about her - if she was really attracted to him or if her feelings had simply grown out of friendship. But there he was, nearly fifty years old, and a beautiful, brilliant 18-year-old was sneaking glances at him.

Sam took a deep breath and looked back at him. "Did my father send you?"

"That would have been awfully fast for me to get here, wouldn't it?"

"Not really, sir."

"Weren't you just talking to him about going home?"

She shrugged at him. "It's not exactly an isolated incident."

"No?" The idea that she would get that upset more than once scared him.

"At least once a day, sir."

"You're telling me you regularly call him, hysterical like that and crying about how much you don't like it here?" The very notion that Sam could get that distraught in the first place was disturbing.

Sam looked down guiltily. "So he did send you, sir?"

"You know, I never thought he could be so cold. He always seemed like a nice guy." Jacob had always seemed very loving and warm; at least towards Sam.

A flicker of annoyance crossed her face and Jack was fairly certain he heard the phrase 'heartless bastard' disguised behind a cough. She didn't say anything more. Jack got the distinct impression Sam thought Jack was there to spy on her for her father.

"He didn't send me here, Sam."

Her eyes darted up to his, gauging how truthful he was. Evidently, she didn't think much of him. "But you know him, sir? That's an awfully odd coincidence."

Jack bit his lip as he tried to figure out how best to answer her. "Sort of. He doesn't know me."

"With all due respect, sir, if my father didn't send you, what are you doing here?"

A smile found its way across his face as understanding dawned on him. Carter had dodged repeated attempts from himself and Daniel to get her to elaborate on that part of history that hadn't happened yet. She'd refused to tell him because of her unnatural obsession with not changing things. But he knew finally - the difference between their reality and the other ones was her military service, the something that hadn't happened yet that she remembered was his little trip to the past. Sam must have decided not to quit the Air Force because of him. He was proud of himself for something he hadn't done yet. "You need help. I need help. I think we can work something out."

"No offense, sir, but I'm about to drop out and get disowned by my father, so unless you're offering bus fare, I doubt we can really help each other much." She began gathering papers from the counter. "I have a class in five minutes, sir."

Not sure which one of them he was more disappointed in, he sighed loudly. "Fine, go. Although I don't imagine perfect attendance counts for much if you drop out." He stood up. "We're not done here, Carter."

"Yes, sir." It was obvious from her tone that she didn't believe him.

He wasn't offended; he didn't blame her for the conclusion she reached. "Later, Carter." He headed for the door, not even sure where he was going. He didn't have any cash on him and none of his credit cards were any good and he was sure that, unlike at the mountain, they would actually verify his ID if he tried to get guest quarters on base. He wasn't looking forward to spending the night in the car - it certainly wouldn't do his knees any good. Still, he knew he had no choice. He had to earn Sam's trust before she would help him and he certainly couldn't do that by stalking her.

AN2: I also know absolutely nothing about the Air Force Academy and little about military anything, so I apologize for any mistakes!