AN: To answer a comment in a review, this story is not meant to be dark or depressing. It is meant to be realistic. There are a lot of stories where something happens and Sam gets pregnant (Broca add-ons, Beneath the Surface add-ons, situations of the writer's own devising). In the majority of them, this causes Sam and Jack to immediately profess their undying love and live happily ever after. One or both are happy to give up their career (or at least SG-1) for this, or the Air Force decides to ignore it and they manage to save the world on a daily basis while the baby's in day care and still find time to be model parents. Jacob is thrilled to be a grandfather, with no problems as to how it came about. Both Jack and Sam automatically know exactly how to get along, and neither has any issues at all. The story doesn't end "happily ever after" because they're into that part by the end of the first paragraph.
I would not advise a diabetic to read such a story, as he or she might go into sugar shock. I would like my story to be a rather more realistic look at what happens when two people who don't really know each other and who have significant obstacles to overcome suddenly find themselves on their way to becoming parents. This doesn't mean that the ending will be unhappy, or that it will be depressing to read. Itsimply means that in order to get to the "happily ever after" part, both Sam and Jack are going to have to do a bit of growing and learning about themselves and about each other. Which is not always fun for the person doing the growing, but (imho) makes for a much more interesting story. YMMV.
And now, onto the story.
"So, how long before the aftereffects of the Touched virus go away, Doctor?" Sam asked. The infirmary wasn't large enough to have private examination rooms, so she was perched on one of the beds in a regular ward. As CMO, Dr. Frasier was personally handling all cases that might be related to that incident. Sam had met the shorter woman a few times, but this was her first examination by her.
"Well, judging by the majority of other cases, you shouldn't have any symptoms left. For something that alters the body that radically, I'm amazed at how little permanent damage that little beggar caused." Doctor Frasier finished drawing the blood sample. "I wish you'd come to me earlier about this, Captain; we have no idea what the long-term effects might be, not to mention everything else you've put your body through lately. We don't even have any idea if gate travel has side effects—your nausea might well be caused by that, given the reactions it caused for the first few weeks."
"Actually, Doctor, that's not a problem anymore," Sam said. Her voice became more animated as she warmed to her subject. "See, our dialing program wasn't properly calibrated to interact with other gates; that, combined with the problems caused by stellar drift was what caused the nausea. Now that we've adjusted the dialing program and are compensating for stellar drift, the side effects of gate travel—"
"I know about that, Captain Carter." Doctor Frasier shook her head. "We're still dealing with a complex piece of alien technology, and we have no idea what the long term effects will be."
"The Goa'uld and Jaffa use it all the time without problems," Sam objected, putting her jacket back on now that Janet seemed to be finished. She was cold this morning.
"Yes, but the Goa'uld and Jaffa have something we don't—a symbiote that, from what Mr. Teal'c has told me, can probably either shield them from the problem or heal any damage without any inconvenience." Doctor Frasier made a few more notes on her clipboard. "When I get these results back, I'll let you know. Now, I know this is a personal question, but have you been having dreams about the virus incident?"
Sam blushed. "Yes," she mumbled down at her hands, trying not to remember what was in those dreams. Now was not the time for that.
"Most of those who contracted it have reported having them, along with flashes of memory while awake. Have you considered seeing someone about the dreams? Or anything that's happened recently?" Doctor Frasier folded her arms around the clipboard and smiled sympathetically. "We were just assigned a psychiatrist, Doctor Mackenzie. He comes highly recommended, and I'm sure he'd be able to help you if you needed anything."
"No, thanks," Sam said indistinctly. She had nothing against mental health professionals, but talking about it would make it too real for her. And then there was the chance something would slip, and others would find out. There were no cameras in the locker room; she and the Colonel had been found trying to raid the cafeteria. Half-clothed or not, the incident had been lost among a host of other incidents. But now the base's gossip had moved on to other things, which meant there was no covering fire. If anything came to light, there would be problems.
"Well, if you're sure," the Doctor said doubtfully. "There's no reason for you to wait here for these test results." She grabbed an appropriate pen and began labeling the vials of Sam's blood.
"Thanks," Sam said, taking the hint. She slid off the bed and went off to her lab, in search of a distraction.
Hours later, Sam had managed to forget her earlier worries. That was the great thing about her job. She could so easily lose herself in the pure, abstract beauty of the science and the puzzle of the alien technology that came with it. This particular challenge came from SG-2's last mission; no one was sure what it was, but the power signature was intriguing. General Hammond had agreed, after some restrained begging, to allow her first crack at it before he sent it off to Area 51 for more extensive tests. Not that it would have stayed there long; they were in the process of constructing a still-to-be-named complex for the express purpose of testing and storing alien artifacts, as Area 51 was a bit too notorious to ever be low profile.
Oh, now that was interesting; from what she'd been able to figure out so far, it shouldn't have done that. She wished she'd gotten all the equipment she'd asked for, but much of it had yet to arrive. She checked the readout on a machine that had arrived, frowning at what she saw. Curiouser and curiouser. Engineering had never held the excitement for her that pure science did; after all, where was the fun if you knew what was going to happen ahead of time? But taking an alien device and figuring out blindly what it was and did, now this was heaven. She just wished she'd been able to see the thing in situ; maybe that would have helped.
Her phone rang, jolting her from her musings. "Carter."
"Captain, this is Doctor Frasier."
Sam's heart sank. Her tone was ominous. "Yes?" She turned and leaned back against the gray concrete wall behind her.
"I need to discuss these test results with you. When would be a good time?"
"I'm free right now. Just give me a few minutes to wrap this up and I'll be right down there."
"That would be fine. I'll see you then."
The line went dead. Sam closed her eyes and tried to think positive thoughts about whatever it was the doctor wanted to tell her. She shook her head and pushed herself off to begin securing her lab; it wouldn't do to leave unknown alien devices just lying around loose.
As she headed out the door she ran straight into the person she least wanted to see right now. "Sorry sir, I'm afraid I wasn't watching where I was going."
"That's ok, Carter. Where you headed in such a hurry?" His tone was light, and for a brief second she hated his calm professionalism.
"I'm just on my way to the infirmary. My test results are back. I'll let you know what's up as soon as I know, sir." Sam ducked around him, eager to escape.
"Do that," he said to her retreating figure.