Jacob Carter was a responsible man; he'd started the day in the infirmary with Doctor Fraiser. Over eighteen hours after the test, Teal'c maintained the ability to breathe on his own but was otherwise almost completely paralyzed. The effects hadn't lasted nearly as long in the Tok'ra, and he couldn't have been more thrilled. It was very likely that they would need less of the chemical than planned and that the Jaffa armies would be down for the count much, much longer than necessary.
Only after confirming Teal'c's bloodwork and thoroughly documenting the test did he go to find his daughter. Nothing irritated him – or Selmak – more than being left out of the loop.
Still, Selmak urged, Let it be.
Jacob knocked on Sam's lab door. It was fifty-fifty whether he'd get an answer, he thought. She was definitely avoiding him, but she was also a US Air Force officer, and she didn't shirk her duties. But nothing happened. Unwilling to back down, he tried the knob and found it locked.
Samantha is no longer a child, Selmak chided.
"Yeah, that's the worst part," he muttered back, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he formulated a plan.
Do not.
"Sergeant!" he called, flagging down an SF. "I'm hoping you can help me."
Surely the young man knew who Jacob was and his history; there was no way that had escaped the base rumor mill. With a nod, the man said, "What can I do for you, General?"
Do not, Selmak repeated. It was more stern that time.
And Jacob ignored it. "I think I left some of my research in my daughter's lab and she's busy elsewhere. Do you have access?"
The SF blinked, and just for a second, Jacob thought his plan might fail. Then he said, "Well, sir, I can't leave it unlocked, and I'm afraid I can't give you free reign, but if you just need to grab something…."
"It'll just take a second to look," the host promised.
Content, he scanned his access badge and opened the door.
The lab was empty.
~/~
"I've always loved this one. The characters are like art."
Glancing over from the translation on his desk, Daniel squinted at the book Sam held and told her, "Oh. Trymmantish, from P4X-112. It's kind of a derivative of Arabic. But you're right, it's more decorative. Kanji-esque, I suppose."
"Kanji?" she asked.
"Japanese symbols that represent words or even phrases or ideas. It's considered an art form as well as a language."
"Interesting."
The archaeologist blinked. "Is it?"
She blinked back, the book still open in her hand. "Isn't it?"
"You've never found it interesting before."
"Well, there's a first time for everything, right?" she said, flipping the page.
He looked at her. Hard. And he didn't answer, squinting his eyes instead.
"What?" she asked, uncomfortable.
The silence lasted another good ten seconds, his gaze sharp, before he accused, "You're hiding."
She scoffed. "What?"
"You're hiding. Admit it. You're avoiding Jacob."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"And maybe Jack, too. Although I can't say I blame you on that one. He did kind of, uh, shove you headlong off the high dive."
"Into a dry swimming pool," she groused. But she sucked in a deep breath and insisted, "It'll all blow over."
Daniel added the part she omitted. "If you avoid them long enough."
Annoyed, she told him flatly, "Sue me, Daniel."
"He's your dad," her friend pointed out. "And you don't get to see him very often."
She sighed, because Daniel didn't get to see his father at all – and never would again. In the scheme of things, she was incredibly lucky. "I know. I know; I just-"
"Thank you, Sergeant. I've been there before; I just never remember where it is."
The new voice in the corridor – Jacob's voice – made Sam's eyes go wide and her body freeze. She was caught, because the archaeologist's office was entirely bookshelves and stacks of papers and even if she wanted to climb into a closet and hide, there wasn't one. She considered crouching behind the desk for half a second and dismissed it as a bridge too far. Probably.
Daniel straightened his glasses and stepped around the desk, intercepting the newcomer just outside the threshold to his office. "Jacob."
"Doctor Jackson. Have you seen my daughter?"
"She's not in her lab?" Daniel asked, and Sam's throat loosened enough to breathe. A little.
"No."
"Hmm. Have you tried the Control Room? She tinkers with the Gate a lot." He hadn't lied, Sam noticed. Nothing he'd said was a lie. He was just refusing to answer the question.
"I walked through the Gate Room on my way here," Jacob told him.
"Oh. Well, she's…. She could be anywhere, I'm afraid. Sam has her fingers in just about everything on this base."
"I know." And he didn't sound particularly pleased.
"Have you eaten yet?" Daniel asked. "I was just headed for lunch."
The Tok'ra huffed. "Well, if she's going to avoid me, I suppose that's the best offer I'm going to get."
"Thanks for the compliment," the younger man answered dryly as he stepped into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind him.
And Sam's head fell back in relief.
