AN: Just to clarify - the next two chapters are set a year before the events of chapters 1-5.

Chapter 6: The Truth About Pete

A Year Earlier (Immediately after Season Seven's 'Resurrection')

Colonel Jack O'Neill was forging his way down the highway out of Colorado Springs. He had been given a couple weeks off following his injury from a Jaffa staff weapon in the encounter that had left one of his best friends, who also had happened to be a damned fine doctor, dead.

After hearing from Carter that the investigation that the rest of SG-1 had participated in at the request of the NID had been wrapped up, he had decided to get out of town. He was now off to Minnesota for some much needed R and R. About thirty miles outside of town, the sound of a ringing cell phone filled the cab of his truck.

"O'Neill," he answered.

A wavering voice quietly replied, "Sir?"

"Carter, is that you? What is it? An emergency at the base? 'Cause I'm telling you, I am not coming back for at least another week unless Anubis himself has come through the gate."

"I'm not at the base, sir. I'm at home."

Her tone sounded strange…like she was frightened of something. Trying to assure himself that everything was all right, O'Neill said with false cheerfulness, "Good for you, Carter – actually taking time off during your downtime. Planning something with Pete for this week?"

"Actually, sir, that's what I'm calling about. I need you to come over...Please."

O'Neill was now very worried. It was uncharacteristic of Carter to sound so anxious and worried. Not to mention, it was completely unlike her to call him about something when they were both on downtime. She knew full well that he was heading up to his cabin, and he knew Carter would never bother him unless there had been some sort of emergency.

"What's going on Carter?"

"Sir, I can't discuss it over the phone," she stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence. "Carter? You still there?"

Her voice returned, almost in a whisper, "I think I just killed Pete."

O'Neill slammed on his brakes at this last whispered confession from Carter. As the shrieking of the brakes subsided, he pulled his truck over to the side of the highway. "Carter...Could you repeat that?"

Again she whispered, her voice beginning to tremble, "I just killed Pete, Colonel. Please, could you..."

He abruptly cut her off, "I'll be there in less than an hour."

"Sir, you should probably park down the road and come in the back door to avoid being seen," she warned. "I don't want you to get into any trouble on my account."

"Don't worry about it, Carter."

"No, sir. You don't understand. I think someone might be watching my house."

"Understood. Just hold tight, Carter. I'll be there soon."

When O'Neill arrived at Sam's house, he did as she requested. He parked at the end of the road and stealthily made his way to the back of her house. He approached the back door and knocked on it. When there was no answer, he tried the doorknob. It was unlocked and he quietly entered.

There in front of him, sitting on the floor, propped up against the kitchen island was Samantha Carter. She had clearly been sitting there like that for some time. A gun was dangling loosely in her right hand and her head was resting on her raised knees.

O'Neill cautiously approached her and called out, "Carter?"

She did not look up at him but remained complete still. He gingerly kneeled down in front of her and took the gun from her hand. As he removed the gun, she looked up at him as if she had finally been awoken from a dream – or more like a nightmare. Her face was wet with tears, her eyes surrounded by black smudges from her mascara. As O'Neill examined her face more closely, he noticed the beginnings of a bruise appearing on her left cheek.

"Okay, Carter. Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

She got up without saying a word, obviously still in shock, and led him out of the kitchen into the living room. There, lying face-up on the floor in a pool of blood was the body - and he was most definitely dead.

"What the hell happened, Carter?" Jack demanded.

Instead of answering her commanding officer, she went to a table and picked up a pad of paper. Written in Carter's clear handwriting was a message – "We need to talk. House might be bugged. Believe he was rogue NID. Let's go to the park across the street."

O'Neill took Sam's hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She then grabbed a jacket and they both went out the back door to walk to the park. She did not utter even one sound as they made their way, trying to avoid being seen by anyone by keeping to a wooded path that provided a back way to the park. Once they arrived, Sam guided Jack to a secluded bench hidden beneath some trees. It was only then that she spoke.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this, sir. I didn't know who else to call," she sniffed.

Jack looked at her in bewilderment. "Carter, I don't know what's going on here, but I hate to tell you this... that guy laying dead in your house is not Pete Shanahan."

"I know," she replied as she got up and turned to face away from him. "He was and he wasn't."

"You've lost me here." His face scrunched up in confusion.

She turned back to face him, piercing him with her eyes. "Check out his watch." She handed the object to him.

He examined the object unceremoniously. It was a typical men's watch with all the bells and whistles. "What about it?" he returned it to her, still completely baffled.

Sam placed the watch on her wrist and pressed the button on the side. Suddenly, her image began to flicker and then gradually it transformed from that of Major Sam Carter into Detective Pete Shanahan. O'Neill jumped slightly in his seat at the shock of seeing his second-in-command become the very man whose existence he had come to resent in the last couple of months.

Carter, still appearing as 'Pete,' then began to explain what was happening. In Pete's voice she calmly stated, "I believe it's a modified mimic device – like the ones at Area 51. You know...the ones that the rogue NID used to frame you that time with the attempted assassination on Senator Kinsey."

She removed the watch, transforming back into her natural image. Jack questioned her, "I thought those devices had all been recovered and were placed in high security lockup."

"As far as I know, they are," she explained. "This is not one of them. It is a variation...an improvement if you will. The ones at Area 51 only last six minutes or so. This lasts more than twelve hours as far as I can figure and is disguised to look like an ordinary watch. It might even last longer than that..."

"So Pete was not Pete?" he tentatively asked.

Carter collapsed on the seat next to him in complete disillusionment. "Yeah," she replied, "I really have no idea if this imposter has been posing as him the entire time or if they did something to Pete and replaced him at some point."

"They?" he questioned.

"Come on, sir. This had to be an organized effort."

"NID?"

"More likely one of its rogue offshoots. Only they could have the knowledge to gain access to the research being done on the mimic devices. They also probably have scientists and engineers on their payroll that could adapt the technology to create this 'improved' device."

"But why? Why you? Why Pete?"

Sam sighed in exasperation. "I wish I knew, sir. The man said something about how he could have eventually gained a lot of information from me. I'm sorry I didn't get more information out of him before I killed him, sir."

It was then that O'Neill looked more closely at his second-in-command. As he turned to face her, he noticed the ring of purple marks around her neck for the first time - marks that had earlier been concealed in the shadows of her shirt collar.

"What did he do to you?" He raised his hand to gently caress the marks on her neck in concern.

"He tried to strangle me after I figured out he was an imposter." Sam continued warily, "I was finishing getting ready to go out to eat. Pete, or whoever he was, was sitting in the chair in my living room waiting. I came out of my room to ask him what time our reservations were for, and he just started flickering."

She paused for a moment to regain her composure before continuing, "I knew what was going on immediately. It was just like the time I killed the alien posing as you on the plane during the foothold situation. I confronted him and was about to run back to my room to get my gun...but he was too fast. He grabbed me from behind, turned me around and hit me. I tried to fight him off."

She smiled sorrowfully. "Actually, I was doing quite well until he started strangling me. I could barely hear what he was saying. It sounded like 'I'm sorry about this, but we can't have people at the SGC finding out about our little operation. It's a shame, really. We had plans for you.' I was beginning to lose consciousness when I saw the gun in his holster. I instinctively grabbed it and shot him. I didn't even realize what I was doing."

During her explanation, Jack's hand had moved from her neck to rest gently on her shoulder. His touch offered support and comfort to this woman that he cared for so much...a woman who had almost just been killed. "You did good. Your instinct for self-preservation kicked in. Looks like he nearly succeeded in killing you. Don't feel guilty, Carter. Just remember, he would have killed you." He looked at her worriedly, "We really need to get you to the infirmary."

She shook her head, trying to convince him that she was all right. "I'm fine, sir, really."

O'Neill looked in her eyes with a disbelieving expression on his face. He then took her arm to guide her up from the bench, determined to make sure her injuries were seen to.

She delicately snatched her arm away and declared, "I don't think you understand, sir. I am probably not the only target. If they can replicate the appearance of anyone, they might have imposters stationed in the SGC itself. How do we know whom to trust? How do we know how far this goes? We need to do something now, sir."

Just then, Sam's expression changed from one of determination to one of dread. "Oh God. What am I going to do?"

"You mean with the dead body in your living room?" Jack asked matter-of-factly. She nodded anxiously.

He shrugged and replied, "Don't worry about it. I know some people who can go in and clean it up discreetly. Right now, I think it would be best if we kept this under the radar. Listen, Carter...if we are ever going to get to the bottom of this, we need to pretend that all of this never happened. We need to just go on as normal."

She laughed morosely. "How do we do that, sir? I mean they might already know that their agent is dead."

"We can check to see if your house is bugged. If it isn't, then they probably don't know about it yet and maybe we can come up with a plan to trap them."

"I don't understand. How can we pretend this just didn't happen?" Sam asked in frustration. "Even if they don't have a bug in my house, they will know as soon as their phony Pete doesn't report in."

O'Neill smirked grimly, "Well, I have a plan. Someone needs to use the mimic device to continue pretending to be Pete. That way we can use their own tactics against them…infiltrate their organization and hopefully bring it down for good this time."

"Our own phony Pete, huh?" A thoughtful expression dawned on Carter's face, as she contemplated what would be necessary to undertake such a plan. "Whoever it is can get information on the group running the operation and find out if there are other spies at the SGC and who they are. It sounds risky, sir."

"Aww Carter, you're taking all the fun out of this. Besides, we really don't have much of a choice. If we reveal what we know now, they get away and will just try again. It's time we stop them once and for all."

Sam nodded determinately. "Okay, sir. Who do you know that we can trust to play Pete?" Jack looked at her sheepishly and grinned. Catching the meaning behind his expression, she began shaking her head warily, "Oh no, sir. Wouldn't that be going totally against the regulations? I can't be dating you."

Jack shrugged. "It wouldn't really be dating, Carter. See it as a mission...one where we have to pretend to be madly in love with each other."

"I don't know if I am comfortable with this," Sam replied honestly.

"Look...I don't trust anyone else at the SGC right now who is experienced with this kind of operation. Who knows who is really 'real'? For all we know, Daniel and Teal'c are not really themselves even."

Sam's eyes narrowed as she questioned suspiciously, "Then how do I know if you are really Colonel O'Neill?"

Jack had his usual lopsided grin on his face as he answered, "Because Carter, you know me better than anyone. Come here..." He opened his arms to her and enveloped her in his comforting embrace. "It's going to be okay, Carter. We're going to get these guys and they won't be able to hurt you ever again." As a second thought he added, "It's also the only way we will find out the truth about Pete."

They remained like that for a minute and then she reluctantly pulled away from him. He laid his hands comfortingly on her shoulders and informed her, "When we get back to your house, we need to clean the body up as much as possible and then leave for a few hours to allow the clean-up team time to get rid of the evidence. What were you and Pete planning on doing together tonight?"

"We were going out to eat. There was this fancy Italian place that Pete wanted to go to. He had reservations for 1900 hours."

"Okay. So that's what we will do. Why don't you head back to your place and change for dinner? I'll meet you there in few minutes, after I call a team in to take care of everything while we're gone." She nodded dutifully and took off towards her home.

O'Neill entered Sam's house a few minutes later and immediately went searching through the pockets of the dead man's coat and pants. He found only car keys, a cell phone, and a wallet, all of which he quickly pocketed. Sam, who had silently entered the room while he had been rummaging through the man's pockets, handed him the man's gun and watch. She was now dressed in a high-neck black sweater, her objective being to hide the bruises on her arms and neck, and long gray wool skirt. She had also heavily reapplied her makeup to cover the bruise on her face.

Jack put on the watch she had handed him, pushed the button on its side, and immediately transformed into Pete. Sam looked at him, uneasy at seeing the image of the man who had just tried to kill her an hour before standing in front of her. She plastered on a stilted smile and asked nervously, unsure of whom might be listening, "So, Pete...where are we going tonight?"

Jack, now looking and sounding exactly like Pete Shanahan, replied, "I have reservations at that Italian place I was telling you about. Actually... they're for 7:00, so we better get moving." He opened the door and then turned back towards her to add, "You look beautiful, by the way."

Sam blushed slightly at the compliment, realizing from the look in his eyes that it was not just part of the act, and smiled. "Thanks, Pete. You look great too. And dinner sounds wonderful." She then took the hand he offered her. Together, they headed out the front door, hand in hand. And with that their mission was underway.