AN1: Yes, prior to the series Sam was engaged to a fellow Air Force officer named Jonas Hanson. Like Jack, Jonas was a special ops officer. She broke it off, and they were both posted to the SGC at the very beginning. In the episode The Fifth Commandment, the fifth episode of the series and the episode right after The Broca Divide, we meet Captain Hanson—he had gone nuts while leading his team on a mission, and believed himself a god (the locals believed him). SG-1 had to take him down. He died, the first of Carter's boyfriends or ex-boyfriends to do so. (For those new to the series, any male guest star who shows any interest in Carter whatsoever has an unfortunate tendency to die in a horrible way. To quote Katie M. on the subject, "We don't think she's actually a serial killer, but you never know. The show isn't over yet." http/ was also the first of Carter's boyfriends to exhibit psycho or stalker tendencies; they do that with depressing regularity. From Narim who programmed his computer to speak with her voice, to Orlin who followed her around her house for a few days before showing himself, to Pete who did a background check on her and followed her around. When Carter says in 1st Commandment that she has a tendency to be attracted to the "lunatic fringe," she, uh, apparently wasn't joking.

AN2: Religion. Again, folks, remember that this is very early in the series. If fighting the Goa'uld makes people lose their faith (quite probable, in many cases), there hasn't really been enough time for that to happen. Especially considering that the only time they've really encountered the Goa'uld so far was in the pilot, and the whole "gods" thing was mentioned but not emphasized. Also, given how over-the-top the average Goa'uld is, I can see a lot of faithful people of any religion dismissing them as charlatans, and not really relevant to their faith. At this point, Charlie's death is certainly a far more potent force in Jack's spirituality than his encounters with the Goa'uld. I don't know how fighting the Goa'uld will have impacted Sam's religious beliefs by, say, season Five, but then, this fic isn't set in season Five, is it? Also, for some people religion is a cultural thing—you go to church because it's traditional, and it's a good social club kind of thing.

Jack strolled into the elevator the next morning whistling cheerily. The date had gone well, he thought with a grin. Was it a date? He kind of thought so, but Sam might not agree. And if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that women had their own arcane ideas about what constituted a 'date' and what didn't, and it was best not to question them on the subject.

"Get lucky last night, Jack?" asked the other man in the elevator with a grin. Colonel Robert Makepeace, Jarhead. Not a bad guy, for a Marine, and one of the few officers of equal rank on the base—even if the two didn't have much in common, Jack could speak a lot more freely with him than almost anyone else, just for that reason.

"No, didn't get 'lucky,'" Jack said, though he was unable to completely wipe the grin away. The last thing Carter needed were rumors, and if there was any place rumors spread faster than on a small, self-contained military base, Jack hadn't found it yet.

"Hot date, then?" Makepeace persisted.

Jack grunted, mildly annoyed, then stepped off as the elevator opened, leaving the jarhead behind. Carter's floor. He'd seen her Volvo in the parking lot, and wanted to ask her to breakfast.

The big blast door was open, as it usually was, and he peeked in. Huh. Not there. Oh, well, maybe he'd see her for lunch. Fruit Loops were calling his name.

He got to the cafeteria to find that Sam was already there, with Daniel across from her. No Teal'c, though. The two scientists had their heads together and were discussing something intently. Neither noticed his entrance, so he went over to the line and got his breakfast. When he turned around, Daniel's hand covered Sam's and she was giving the geek a half-hearted smile. Good mood slightly dampened, he made his way over to their table. "Am I interrupting anything?" he asked.

Daniel looked up at him and smiled in greeting. "Oh! Uh, no. Didn't see you come in," he said, letting go of Sam's hand to pick up his fork. "We were just talking. How are you, this morning?"

"Good," Jack said, sitting next to Sam. "You?" He looked from one to the other as he picked up his fork.

"I'm good, Jack." Daniel raised his eyebrows at Sam.

"I'm fine," she said, but Jack could see circles under her eyes. Sara had been tired a lot when pregnant with Charlie, he recalled; had it started this early in the pregnancy? He didn't think so, but he'd spent the first several months on detached duty somewhere, and had been lucky they'd sent him back to his home unit in time for the end of it.

"General Hammond wants to see the two of us in his office at nine," Sam said, moving her eggs around on her plate with a fork. "He wants to formally notify us as to which one of us is going to transfer. Not that there's much question of that." She shrugged, lips pressed together, studying the mess she made.

"Guess not," Jack said after a minute.

"Thank you for coming, Colonel, Captain." General Hammond gestured at the two chairs on the other side of his desk. "Please, have a seat."

Sam steeled herself for what she knew was coming. It wasn't sexism; God knew, she'd seen enough of that in her career, but it would never come from the General. He and her father were good friends, though she hadn't seen much of him as a child. After the last and largest fight with her father on the subject of her joining the Air Force, then-Colonel Hammond had taken her dad out for dinner one night, just the two of them. She'd never found out what Hammond had told him, but the next morning Dad had quietly told her that she was a smart, tough woman and he was proud of her, and that if she thought she could make it in the Air Force he wouldn't stand in her way.

And after West had been removed from the program and Hammond instated as CO, one of his first acts had been to rearrange West's command, giving her and the few other women involved in the project positions and responsibilities more appropriate to their skills. No, George Hammond would not be prejudiced against her or any female officer due to gender. In this case, all inequality was due solely to Sam's own biology. You simply couldn't send a pregnant woman into harms way, which would have gotten her off the team even if there were no worries about possible side effects of gate travel. Which meant that even if fraternization regulations didn't exist, she would have been off the team.

"I want you both to know that I don't think any less of either of you for what's happened," the General said, folding his hands on his desk. "There's no blame and no responsibility, as you were both under the control of an alien virus. The unfortunate thing is, I can't overlook the consequences of what happened to you, and neither can the Air Force.

"Captain Carter, you are off SG-1 effective immediately. For the duration of your pregnancy you will be doing lab work, analyzing objects brought back through the gate, and working to perfect the dialing program and gate diagnostics. After your pregnancy, we will reevaluate your assignment if you desire to be put back on an SG team. Although, as short-handed as we are around here, we may simply keep you on base and loan you out to various SG teams as needed to spread around your expertise. That would also give you the most flexibility and stability, if you keep the baby."

Sam's heart sank. She loved her team. SG-1 was an eclectic bunch of people, all of them interesting and good and (with the possible exception of Teal'c, whom she didn't know well enough to judge) friendly people. They hadn't been together long, but they'd been through a lot, and she didn't want to lose the bonds they'd made. Besides, going through the gate was the biggest adrenaline rush on this or any other planet. She wanted more gate travel, not less.

"'Various SG teams?' Does that include SG-1?" Jack asked.

"Perhaps," Hammond said, leaning back in his chair. "That would depend on a lot of things, including how well the two of you maintain a professional relationship, the extent of the find you need her to analyze, and the level of danger. I won't send you out into a situation where you might be forced to choose between the life of your child's mother and the lives of your teammates; that wouldn't be fair to any of you."

Sam had a thought, a way to stay on SG-1. It was a bad idea; even if Hammond could be persuaded to go along with it, the Air Force would not be. But she had to know.

"Sir?" she asked. "If I had an abortion, would I be able to stay on SG-1?"

Beside her, Jack froze. Hammond regarded her thoughtfully for a few moments. "No," he said. "For several reasons, among them—Jack, would you be able to work with her afterwards?"

"No." She glanced over at him. Jack O'Neill's face was stone solid, dead and cold. Jonas had looked at her that way sometimes. Sam nodded. Well, she'd had to know. And if he'd actually been willing to talk about the subject, she'd have known that without having to ask General Hammond.

"Are you planning on getting an abortion?" Hammond asked gently.

Sam looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. "No," she said. "I … haven't completely ruled it out, yet, but I'm not planning on it. I'm still kind of in shock over the whole thing, and this is a big decision." She glanced up at Jack, sitting next to her; he could have been carved from stone, he was so still. "I want to know all the consequences, and I don't want to make a hasty decision I'll regret for the rest of my life."

"That's probably a good idea," General Hammond said carefully. Sam looked back at him; he had a slight frown on his face as he studied the two of them. He shifted his gaze back to Jack. "Colonel, as I'm sure you're aware, we are incredibly short handed. Finding people with the right combination of skills who have the proper security clearance is damn hard, and the extra psych profiling we've started to prevent any more incidents like the one with Jonas Hansen doesn't help. I'm afraid Captain Carter's reassignment will put you a man down for the forseeable future. It's not ideal—we're hoping to someday have enough people to have six man teams instead of four for greater tactical flexibility, and you'll have half that now—but I'm sure you'll do fine with what you've got."

"Sure," Jack said, not looking at Sam. "No problem. Any word on our next mission?"

"You'll be heading out to check that planet with the invisible life form Teal'c mentioned." Hammond leaned back in his chair. "I know he doesn't talk much, but I'd like a bit more in-depth look at what you're going to be heading into before the briefing, if you can get it out of him."

"Teal'c's a good soldier," Jack said with a shrug. "He may not talk much about most things, but if he's got an operational comment he doesn't hold back. Much. I'll talk with him."

Hammond nodded. "Very well. Mission briefing is at 0830 hours tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

Jack got up and headed out the door without pausing. Despite her long stride, it took Sam a couple of seconds to catch up. "Sir?" she asked as she came along side him. "I'm sorry about that. What I asked, I mean. I just—"

"I understand, Captain," Jack said harshly, never glancing at her or slowing down. "You wanted to have all the information. Now you do. Anything else I can help you with?" The words were clipped, short, impersonal.

"No, thank you," Sam said, stopping and letting him walk away as he so obviously wanted. Damn the man!