Chapter 9

"I…I've decided that our seeing each other…," Kathryn began, her voice barely above a whisper, "…it's not for the best."

Stunned, Hammond could not answer, but stood, staring at her.

She looked away, blinking back tears. "I'm very sorry. I know this is a bad time to tell you, but…"

"I don't understand. I thought we…that is…" He shook his head and glanced around the conference room, wishing they were somewhere less public. He had a meeting with his staff and team leaders in less than fifteen minutes. "Was it something I did or…?"

He saw the tears in her eyes and stopped. Hammond lifted a hand to touch her then stopped; she would not want that…she did not want him.

He sucked in a breath. He'd had no inkling, no clue. He hadn't expected this at all!

"Darlin', is there anything I can do? I know my schedule is terrible and I don't make half our dates, but-"

"I understand about your responsibilities." She sniffled and he reached in his pocket for his handkerchief then handed it to her. Embarrassed, she took it and nodded her thanks.

"If I made more time for-"

"No, it's not that."

He spread his hands. "Am I rushing you? I don't mean to…"

She took a deep breath and met his gaze. "George, you did nothing wrong, it's just that….it's just not going to work out. You're a wonderful man, but…"

Hammond did not know what to say.

Kathryn started to say something more, and then simply looked away. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. She turned and walked quickly out the door.

Hammond felt as if he'd been shot. No, worse than that. Pain from a bullet was understandable; this, he did not understand.

He'd been so sure.

Forcing himself to breathe, he walked slowly into his office and shut the door, then sat heavily in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk.

What had he done to cause this?

What hadn't he done, was more like it.

Quick calls late at night, expecting her to be satisfied with a few minutes over the phone…no woman would feel appreciated with that kind of treatment. He'd cancelled more dates than he could count, and half the time he couldn't call and tell her until she was ready and waiting for him, ruining her evening. There was simply never enough time.

Then too, despite what he said, it must have seemed to Kathryn that he wanted to hide their relationship, like two people sneaking around, as if he were ashamed of being seen. How could any woman not feel humiliated under those circumstances?

Swallowing a lump in his throat, he leaned back, covering his eyes with a hand.

He'd treated her like dirt.

You stupid SOB!, he thought angrily. The best thing that's happened to

you in years- or will ever happen until they bury you in your boots- and you screwed it all up and drove her away.

His fist hit the table, rattling the name placard emblazoned with his stars of rank.

You don't deserve her!

He should have known that from the start. She was young and pretty and deserved someone better, not an old man who had no future but work, and no time for her or the boys-

The boys. Hammond felt his throat start to tighten. He would not be in their lives…their future. All the dreams he dreamed…all his hopes….gone.

"Sir?"

Without looking up, Hammond cleared his throat. "Yes?" he answered abruptly.

"Sir, everyone is ready."

"Thank you, Major. I'll be but a moment."

His aide left and Hammond drew a deep breath, then another and set his jaw.

There was no time…for her or for himself.

Drained and weary, Hammond stood then walked slowly to the door to yet another meeting.


The general, Janet Fraser thought for the umpteenth time, looked like hell. If she thought Hammond worked hard before, now it seemed as if he was trying to work himself to death… or forget.

In asking around, she found out he'd been sleeping at the center, getting maybe three or four hours at a time. When not flying back and forth to Washington, he'd gone home only twice in the past three weeks to see his granddaughters. This morning, she'd found a message on her machine from his daughter Sandy, asking about her father.

He was losing weight, not an unneeded thing, but certainly not by skipping most meals. It was not doing his blood pressure any good, she was certain.

Fortunately, he was due a check up. It wasn't for another couple of months yet, but she figured it was close enough and it was for that reason she'd asked him to report to the medical clinic. Filling out his medical record sheet, she watched him as he waited impatiently for her to finish, noting the early signs of exhaustion he showed.

"Well, General, you're blood pressure's up rather high," she said, putting down her pen. "How have you been feeling lately? Any extra pressures…concerns?"

He didn't answer for a moment as he fastened the buttons on his shirt. "I'm always busy, Doctor- SGC demands, travel, the Senate hearings..."

"You're feeling stressed?"

General Hammond stopped buttoning his cuff to stare at her as if she'd just asked if the Goa'uld were evil.

"I think stressful pretty much sums up working here in SGC, don't you, Doctor?"

Her face warmed and she looked at the paper. "Sir, what about non-SGC issues?"

He fumbled in tying his tie, then jerked it from around his neck and started again. "My personal life has no bearing on my performance at SGC, Doctor…unless someone can claim otherwise."

He looked hard at her and she debated whether she should tell him she was aware of his relationship with Kathryn. For the past few weeks, Kathryn had stayed in the science department, coming upstairs for lunch only when the general was out of town. She looked very unhappy, but would brush off any attempts Janet made to broach the subject. They were both miserable and she could not believe that General Hammond had been the one to break it off. Kathryn must have had a reason for doing so, but what possible one could she have?.

Fraser decided against it. It would only serve to embarrass the general; he would not discuss his private affairs with her, in any case.

"No, sir. Your performance is not under question."

He nodded, snugging his tie against his collar. His look softened and he shook his head.

"Life is not always the way we wish, is it, Doctor?" he asked

"No, it isn't…but, sir-"

"If there is nothing more you require?" he broke in, standing straight, shoulders squared.

"No, sir. There's nothing more." She'd pushed as hard as she could, already.

He inclined his head. "Thank you, Doctor Fraser."

Janet watched him leave, and released her breath through pursed lips. Well, that certainly did not accomplish anything.


"I ran into George at Peterson and to tell the truth, he looked terrible," General Bob Woodward said, helping himself to another scoop of potatoes. "Looked like he'd been through the wringer!"

Helen picked at her chicken then put her fork down. "I stopped by to see Kathryn today- hadn't heard from her in weeks."

"How's she doing?"

"Not good, I'm afraid. She and George aren't seeing each other anymore."

Bob's forkful of garlic potatoes hung inches from his mouth. "You don't say! What in the world happened?"

Helen sighed. "I'm not really sure. She didn't want to talk about it, but after a while, she became rather upset and…well, it didn't make much sense to me, at all!"

"What didn't?"

"She said that her seeing George would hurt his career and cause him problems."

Bob frowned. "Why'd she think such a thing?"

"I asked her the same thing and she said a Colonel….Maybon…Maybird, well, something like that, spoke to her a few weeks ago and since then she'd discovered that what he said was true."

"What? That doesn't sound right!" The potatoes disappeared.

"She insisted that it was. I think she's trying to protect George." Helen picked up her fork and knife.

"Did she ask George about it?"

Helen shook her head. "I don't know- she clammed up after that and the boys came in."

Bob was silent, considering what he'd just heard. Normally, he didn't like to get involved in other people's romantic affairs, but Kathryn and George were an exception. He loaded his fork with more potatoes. He was going to have to see George.


A short chapter, but the rest will follow soon.