Chapter 12: Apologies
Jack stood in the corridor outside of Carter's lab, and looked at the drawing in his hands. The woman might be brilliant be she was a lousy artist. Somehow, he found the lack of talent oddly endearing. The fact she wasn't ashamed of her flaws and lacked the oversized ego that all too often came along with the remarkable intellect she possessed was probably one of the of the reasons he'd warmed to her so quickly in those early days of SG-1. They'd been a ragtag group back then, but somehow, their differences had served as the glue that formed their cohesiveness all these years, keeping them together longer than any other unit in the SGC's brief history.
Of course, those differences had inevitably led to many disagreements over the years, some more spectacular than others, but somehow, they'd always managed to smooth it over it the end. He liked to think that they had grown all the stronger for it.
Still looking at the drawing, Jack knew this was one of those situations that called for a little smoothing over. It wasn't her fault that he was having issues with her being in the body of a child. The rest of SG-1 seemed to accept it, and Jack thought he had too. Obviously, he hadn't, and now he needed to fix it. Squaring his shoulders, he took the last few steps needed, pausing in the doorway to take in the scene in front of him.
Perched up on the stool, his second was bent slightly forward, elbows on the table with her chin resting on one fist, studying the screen of her laptop. Wires from the computer led to a strange looking device on the workbench in front of her. It was a pose he'd seen her take hundreds of times if not more over the years, and it grounded him, reminding him that she only looked like a child. The stool might be up a little higher, and her body smaller, but her mind was the same Major Carter he'd come to know and respect, to depend on, often trusting her with his life and the lives of the rest of his team. He realized then that on some level he'd reacted more than once to her outward appearance instead of the knowledge that she was still the same Sam Carter on the inside.
It had been that knee-jerk reaction that had led him to dumping her in the daycare center without so much as a by your leave, letting himself believe that he was doing what was needed to help anyone under his command prepare for an upcoming mission. He'd simply decided that she needed to learn how to adapt to her new cover, and that leaving her at the daycare center had been the best, and the safest, way to do so before he had to let her go solo into a possibly hostile situation. At a school acting as a front for some Goa'uld to harvest children, she'd be particularly vulnerable. Unfortunately, he'd been thinking too much along the lines that she was as helpless as the child she appeared to be. He had ignored the little voice inside his head that said he should have given her a choice, or at least let her know the full details of the plan before implementing it. But his head had been too full of recent events, the scare at Target mingled with thoughts of just how helpless she would be in the upcoming mission, all but alone trapped in the body of a seemingly defenseless child. Those thoughts had somehow transmuted his normal concern as a commanding officer for a member of his team and mingled them with the growing paternal role he was to play in the upcoming mission. In short, he'd made a mess of things, and now he needed to set them right if she was to trust him and know that he trusted her to carry out her part in their mission. Mind steeled, he cleared his throat, stepping through the doorway into the Major's lab.
At his entrance, she looked up, tearing her eyes away from the scrolling numbers and lines of script that held no meaning to him. Stepping fully into the room, he crossed to the bench, dropping the paper he carried on the table next to her. She looked down at the drawing, and then back up at him, her expression more than a little puzzled. "Sir?" she asked, the hint of a confused look crossing her features.
Jack shrugged, uncomfortable and yet still determined. "Thought you might want that back," he told her, a bit gruffly. She studied him, the lines creasing her forehead deepening as she frowned slightly, the expression softened by the gentle lines of her now childish face, the bones less prominent, the face less defined. At this age, she still hovered on the cusp of leaving behind the last seemingly boneless remnants of toddlerhood and developing into that of a young child, her facial features and body structure beginning to take on the definition and lines that would be distinctly hers rather than the indistinct, rounded features of small children. He recognized the look despite the changes her de-aging had wrought. Perhaps it was that he'd now had the privilege to have seen that face in not one but two stages of childhood, as well as the full maturity of adulthood. It seemed odd, but he could look at that face now, and see the tell-tale signs of the woman he'd come to know, at least now that he was looking for it. He realized that he'd been ignoring at times those sparks of recognition, choosing only to see what his eyes saw. Perhaps it was his recent exposure to a slightly older Sam Carter, one that did not have her adult memories intact. This five-year-old version looked even more helpless and innocent than the seven-year-old one had, and if he were honest, she evoked his protective instincts even more fiercely, regardless of whether this version had the mind of an adult or not.
Before she could speak, Jack jammed his hands into his pockets. "Look, Carter, I probably didn't handle things very well earlier." He looked down, studying his boots and resisting the urge to fidget or pick up anything from the workbench. "I never should have sent you in without, well, without a full briefing," he admitted. He lifted his gaze slightly to find the woman turned child watching the screen of her laptop, but he could tell from the distant look in her eyes that she wasn't really paying attention to the data streaming past, but was focused more internally. She was silent for a few moments, pretending to study the screen, before she finally looked away and back up at him.
Their eyes met, and he caught fleeting glimpses of emotions flickering across her face, too quickly for him to pin down. When she spoke, her voice was level, despite the higher, childish pitch.
"I probably would have agreed anyway, if I'd had all the details, sir," she told him quietly. Her eyes darted to the side, and she ducked her head in an all too familiar gesture. Jack could see she was biting her lip as she tucked her arms around her torso. She had too much respect for him to say what was likely really on her mind, but he'd spent too many years with her, learning to read her silent body language. She didn't have to speak, he heard her loud and clear.
He sighed, shifting slightly where he stood. "You're right, and I shouldn't have sprung it on you the way I did. If we'd been in the field you'd have gone in with a full briefing. For what it's worth, I won't let it happen again," he told her, trying to instill his words with as much sincerity as he could.
She blinked, and he caught a brief flash of surprise in her blue eyes before she nodded slowly, turning her gaze back to the computer screen for a few moments, gathering her composure. Lifting her eyes back to him, she spoke softly with a slight lift of her chin. "Thank you, sir."
Jack nodded, his body automatically relaxing, making him realize just how tense he'd become. Apology given and accepted. He removed one hand from his pocket, absently jerking one thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of the hall. "Listen, I was going to meet Teal'c and Daniel in the commissary for dinner in about an hour. Care to join us?"
She ducked her head again quickly, seemingly absorbed in her readings, but not before he'd caught the smile flit across her features. He saw her nod. "I should be finished by then, sir," she answered, carefully avoiding his face.
"I'll see you there then," he replied, good cheer suddenly restored. "If not, I'm sending Teal'c in after you," he warned mock threateningly.
This time she couldn't hide the smile that bloomed across her face, so quintessentially Sam Carter caught in a rare, unguarded moment. "I'll be there," she promised.
He bounced slightly with an answering grin. "Well, I'll, uh let you work, see you soon," he replied lamely, too relieved of the burden he'd unknowingly been carrying to care much. Somehow, he doubted that it was the end of his struggle with their roles in the upcoming mission, but the trust was still there. In his mind, that was all that mattered.
"Yes sir," she agreed. Jack turned away, but didn't need to look back to know that she was probably still smiling.
Dinner at first was a little subdued, but not for long. Sam soon found herself engaged with Daniel in a rousing discussion about an artifact that SG-11 had recently returned with. The shoebox-sized artifact was covered in colorful runes and gave off the faintest of energy signatures. Seeking a respite from the passionate debate, Jack started a conversation with Teal'c about the physical training exercises the large warrior had been putting some of the latest recruits through. Teal'c then surprised Sam by asking if she would spar with him the next afternoon.
"It would please me greatly," the large man explained to her surprised look, "To assist you in finding the most effective means to defend yourself in your current state."
When Sam agreed, still feeling a little surprised, Jack added his hearty approval, looking like he wished he'd thought of the idea first. He missed Daniel's grin, quickly hidden by his drink. Sam nearly missed it too, and for a moment, she was embarrassed, but the obvious relief her CO exhibited overruled anything else. And her mind argued logically that she knew the exercise would be beneficial. She most definitely had not liked the feeling of helplessness that had been thrust upon her at the Target store, and that man had not had any malicious intent. Should there be a next time, she might not be so lucky.
The group broke up after the meal, and Sam headed back to her lab, reflecting over the events of the day. Despite the way it had been thrust upon her, she'd found the time in the daycare center valuable. There, no one knew that she was actually a fully-grown woman mentally, with years of experience as a scientist and member of the US Air Force. No one treated her with the respect her rank as Major automatically granted. She had been treated how she looked, like a five year old child, by both the adults in the daycare center, and by the other children.
In some ways, she found it reassuring. Hers was a foolproof disguise. On the other hand, at least one small part of her still had trouble dealing with the complete lack of freedom her new appearance now gave her. Once left at the center, she'd been trapped there until the Colonel had chosen to return for her. She would not have been allowed to leave on her own. In fact, she wasn't free to go anywhere without an adult or an adult's permission, and that was something that she hadn't had to deal with in a very long time. Even the strict command structure and sheer number of rules and regulations of being a career military officer didn't come close to the lack of autonomy she now had in her current body.
Preoccupied with her musings, Sam set a few diagnostics to run on their own. She could look over the data later when she was less distracted. Idly, she doodled on her notepad, absently forming the letters of her name in a wobbly print. Sergeant Nichols had also pointed out that a five year old wouldn't write in cursive, and especially not in the crabbed hand she usually wrote in, cramming notes and ideas onto the paper in a shorthand often only she fully understood. The letters looked foreign to her, though she'd seen her childish handwriting when going through her father's effects several years ago, finding a box of old school things from her and her brother, and more recently, the samples at the Colonel's house. She still had no recollection of those three months she'd spent regressed to her seven-year-old body and memories, but the Colonel had plenty of evidence.
Startled by a huge yawn, Sam let go of her pen and stretched lazily. She'd have to start practicing with pencils, particularly the large ones required by her kindergarten class, but for now, she found familiarity and comfort in using the pen, despite the mild awkwardness she felt gripping it in her small hand.
"Long day?" asked a voice from the doorway, startling her slightly mid-stretch.
Sam smiled dropping her arms into her lap. "Hey, Janet. Yeah, it's been a busy day but I can't believe I'm tired like this. I'll probably turn in soon," she admitted more than a little sheepishly. She knew she was quite well known by all those close to her for the late hours she kept when in the midst of fascinating projects.
Janet made a show of looking at her watch as she stepped into the lab, crossing over to the table Sam was working at and leaning casually against it. "You? It's only 21:15. You should have at least another four, maybe five hours in you before you usually even think about quitting for the day," the doctor teased, a smile tugging around the corners of the woman's usually demure, professional mask.
"Yeah, crazy huh?" Sam admitted ruefully. She yawned again, flushing when Janet looked amused. Lifting one hand, she ran fingers through her hair, and saw Janet's eyes dart to her arm, brow furrowing in concern. Deftly, the physician captured her wrist before Sam could even think about tucking the injury safely out of site. It was too late for that at any rate; the Doctor's sharp eyes had already caught the telltale signs of bruising.
"What happened here?" she asked, the petite woman's eyes sought hers, and Sam's felt the warmth on her face growing. The bruising was already starting to shift from the initial deep purple to a varied palette of blues, greens, and yellows. She hadn't paid much attention to it, since it was merely a little sore and only when she leaned on it, but no doubt it looked even more spectacular tonight than it had last evening.
Breaking eye contact, Sam squirmed slightly but Janet kept hold of her wrist, as if reluctant to let go of the evidence. "I fell off the swing yesterday," she mumbled, more embarrassed about how the injury had occurred than the about the injury itself. When Janet didn't say anything, she added, "It's just scrapes and bruises. I scraped my knees too, Daniel cleaned them up." Janet let her arm drop and Sam looked up to find the doctor watching her. To her relief, there was no amusement in her friend's eyes, merely the concern of a professional and friend. "I'm ok, really," she said, trying to reassure the other woman.
"You're sure?" Janet asked, her face still creased in concern.
"I'm sure," Sam told her. "You know the guys would have made me come in if I wasn't, right?"
That, more than anything, reassured the physician. Sam saw the woman's posture relax immediately. "You're right. How are things anyway?"
Sam shrugged. "Still weird, but it's been getting better, I guess. The guys have been trying to help me, but it's still a lot to grasp." She shrugged slightly in resignation. "They keep trying to help me rediscover my lost childhood I think, especially the Colonel." Another yawn interrupted her, and Janet looked apologetic.
"I should let you go. Listen, I just came by to see how things were. If you don't mind, I'd like it if you could stop by the infirmary tomorrow for a quick check up." The redhead held up a hand at Sam's automatic grimace. "Nothing formal, I just want to take a look. Your case is pretty unique you have to admit." The gleam of professional interest sparkled in her friend's eye, and Sam could only smile in return, knowing the feeling all too well.
"Ok," she agreed, pretending reluctance. It was her turn to hide amusement as her friend's eyes lit up. To be honest, she was also curious about the changes wrought in her own body. "I can come by around lunch, when Sergeant Nichols releases me," she told the woman, and then yawned again, getting down off the stool and stretching leisurely, her young body more lithe and flexible than she was used to. "I can't seem to last much into the evening anymore," she said regretfully, as she headed for the door, the doctor falling in step beside her as she turned off the lights and locked her door behind her.
Janet smiled down at her, and Sam found the new perspective less startling than when they'd first gotten back from the planet. She must be getting used to things. "It's only natural," the doctor explained as they walked. "You're physically in the body of a child, and children need much more sleep than adults do."
"A lot more," Sam replied ruefully.
Janet smiled, her hands tucked into her lab coat pockets as they reached the elevator. "Goodnight Sam," she told her firmly, removing one hand and pressing the correct button to take Sam to base quarters.
"'Night Janet," Sam mumbled in reply around another yawn as she stepped onto the elevator. Janet smiled as the doors rumbled shut, and it was all Sam could do to hit the right number and get off at the correct floor. Well, at least she wasn't being carried to bed.
Fortunately, her sleepwear was uncomplicated, because she barely remembered to drape her unofficial uniform over the back of a chair as she changed into her now oversized adult t-shirt before climbing into bed. She felt like she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
A/N: Well the title of this chapter is appropriate in more ways than one. Apologies from Jack to Sam, and apologies from me to my loyal readers, especially those of you who not only take the time to leave me much appreciated feedback on every chapter, but additionally to send me hopeful little nudges in private messages when updates go amiss. I can only say that life has been hectic. If I'm not working, I usually have appointments with physical therapy, trying to find relief from chronic pain, that isn't much helped from spending the time needed in front of a computer to write stories, much as I enjoy the writing. And with summer coming to an end, on those rare days I have off from work and appointments that happen to have nice weather, I want to be outside enjoying the sun rather than inside staring at a computer. But in many ways, I want to write this story as much as many of you want to read it. And I have quite a few ideas for the next few upcoming chapters. I hope this one is worth the wait. And hopefully, my life will slow down some so that I can again devote time to developing this story, which I think and hope that you all are enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing it. When I have the time that is. So please bear with me, and thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to follow it despite the slowed progress.