Alternatives

Chapter IX: Alpha Site

Based upon Stargate: SG-1

Rating: PG - T

- RMI - Takes place mid-season 6, in a reality which Daniel Jackson did not ascend, Jonas Quinn did not join the Stargate program and Anubis succeeded in the destruction of Earth, causing the United States government to enact a mass evacuation plan which saved hundreds of people, including SGC and Area 51 personnel, Air Force Academy Cadets, West Point Cadets, Annapolis Midshipmen, 300 graduate students from various universities with various specialties, the Joint Chiefs, the senior cabinet members, and several IOA committee members -

- . - - - . -

"Are things okay?" Daniel asked.

Jack looked up from his lunch. "What?"

Daniel sat down across the table from him. "Between you and Sam. You guys have been acting weird lately."

Jack shook his head, pretending that he didn't know exactly what Daniel was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you just seem to be avoiding each other."

Jack shook his head and once again pretended that he hadn't noticed what Daniel was talking about. "I don't know what you're talking about." But he did. He did know, all too well. He and Carter were avoiding each other. Like the plague.

Ever since the human race was literally blown off the face of the planet and they had all escaped to the Alpha Site they had been slowly distancing themselves from each other. They both knew that the great shock of having everything they ever knew destroyed would push them to a place they could not go.

They hadn't gotten any sleep while they were evacuating as many people as they could. He would never admit it out loud, but as soon as they got everyone to the Alpha Site, he wanted to crawl into a bed next to a one Samantha Carter, wrap his arms around her, bury his face in her neck, and sleep for days.

But that wasn't an option.

They were still Air Force officers; as much as they hated to admit it -- the term "United States Air Force" being somewhat metaphorical now.

But, damn, did he want her!

"Jack, are you sure you're okay?" Daniel asked.

Jack's eyes focused back on his friend, realized that he had probably been staring for several seconds. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Daniel regarded him carefully. "Maybe you should go see Doctor Fraiser."

Jack nodded slowly. "Sure, why the hell not?" He got up, taking the remains of his lunch with him.

"Now I know something's wrong," Daniel called after him. "You just volunteered to go see Doctor Fraiser."

Jack shrugged it off and kept walking. Yep, he thought to himself, I would say that something's wrong. The planet's gone, we're trying to start over, and the only thing on my mind is Samantha Carter.

- . - . -

Janet settled her stethoscope around her neck. "So, why did you come to see me?" she asked.

Sam shrugged. "Daniel said that I was acting a little weird. He wanted to make sure that I was okay."

"You said you were feeling fine, right?"

Sam shrugged again. "Yeah, I feel great. Well, my planet and most of my race was just destroyed but . . . "

"What are you doing to cope?"

"What?"

"What are you doing to cope? Cassie and I play cards every night. Daniel's compiling a book of all the random Earth facts people remember and the General does dishes in the mess hall. What are you doing?"

"I've been reading," she answered sheepishly.

"What?"

Sam forced a laugh. "I didn't exactly have the greatest 'getting over the apocalypse' books in my pack when we evacuated." Janet eyed her, waiting for a real answer. "Fahrenheit 451."

"Are you serious?"

"It was either that, Slaughterhouse-Five, 1984, or Colorado Cowboy."

Janet stifled a laugh. "You had three major, not to mention depressing, science fiction books in your pack and one romance novel?"

Sam shrugged again. "You know me . . ."

Janet shook her head, turning the conversation back to where she wanted to steer it. "My point is that the rules have changed and it's expected, if not encouraged, for people to start pairing off."

"Pair off?" she repeated slowly.

"We are trying to continue the race," Janet justified.

"I don't know about you, Janet, but the dating scene here isn't very hot," Sam joked.

"What about Colonel O'Neill?"

If Sam had been drinking something she would have spit it out. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not necessarily suggesting anything. I'm just saying that the rules are different now.

"I've been put in charge of the continuation of a race. Right now, as I see it, our options are limited with current regulatory restrictions. I've spoken to General Hammond and he took it to the Joint Chiefs. They've approved my recommendation."

"Gee," Sam's voice dripped with sarcasm, "You'd think they would have sent out a memo."

Janet forced a smile. "Let's be realistic here, it's only been six months. We don't need people to feel like they're only here to . . . breed. Not to mention the fact that we don't have the infrastructure to start increasing the population. Realistically, we brought too many people with us to begin with."

"How did we get on this topic?" Sam asked, becoming increasingly uncomfortable as her mind made the connection of children and Janet's mention of Colonel O'Neill.

"And, frankly, Sam, we didn't want people to start acting irresponsibly by just opening the flood gates. We have a lot of very young people here, most of them in the military because we took a good chunk of the academies with us. The last thing we need is to tell a bunch of sex-starved twenty year-olds 'Congratulations, the nerdy civilian scientists twice your age are no longer your only options."

Sam nodded slowly. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Nothing, necessarily. I'm just mentioning that if two higher ranking officers were able to demonstrate that a proper working relationship could be maintained simultaneously with an adult, responsible, personal relationship . . . "

"God, Janet! How long have you been thinking about making an example out of my personal life?"

Janet shook her head. "Not long, and I didn't tell the General."

"Well, thank you for that," she spat facetiously.

"Oh, just shut up and go for it."

"Go for what?" a new voice asked.

Sam and Janet turned to see Colonel O'Neill in the doorway. "Sir!" they both jumped in shock.

"How long have you been standing there?" Sam asked, terrified that he had heard too much.

"Just long enough to hear Fraiser to tell you to shut up."

"Oh, thank God," Sam muttered under her breath.

"What was that, Major?" he asked.

"I have to go, Sir," she jumped up and practically ran out the door.

- . - . -

"Did I say something?" O'Neill asked once Sam had left.

Janet smiled. "No, Sir. I did." She shook her head, indicating that he shouldn't ask. "What can I do for you, Sir?"

"Daniel says I've been acting weird."

Janet nodded slowly. "He has, has he?"

The Colonel sat down on the bed in front of her, looking sheepish.

She couldn't give the Colonel the same speech she just gave Sam, that would be weird. So, she got out her stethoscope and pretended to examine the Colonel. "You know, Sir," she said as casually as she could manage. "Being one of the more senior members here at the Alpha Site, I thought you should be aware of one of the changes that is going to be enacted in the coming months."

He eyed her carefully.

"I suggested to the Joint Chiefs, and they agreed; the fraternization regulations are lifted, and we're going to announce it in a few months."

"Really?!" he sounded a little too excited. He coughed, regaining his composure. "Really, why?"

"The primary reason for the Alpha Site evacuation was to continue the race, which is why we brought so many Cadets, Midshipmen, and Grad Students with us. As things were . . . Suffice it to say that limiting the options of the population is not a good way to build diversity."

He tilted his head, somewhat confused. "And I thought we brought the academies so we could continue the Commander-In-Chief's Cup."

She gave him a sarcastic smile in response to his joke.

"Come on, Doc, we are talking about people, aren't we?"

She nodded. "Yes, Sir. We are talking about people. That's why we can't decide who can or can't be with whom. For one, it's not a sound idea in terms of rebuilding a race. But, what I'm really concerned about here is not making people miserable for the rest of their lives."

He waved his hands about. "The whole 'what's life without living' cliché."

She pointed at him. "Exactly, Sir." Janet stuck a thermometer in his mouth and watched him think as she took his blood pressure.

"So," he said once she had taken the thermometer back. "If two officers were to . . . right now . . ." he made some more broad gestures. "Hypothetically."

Janet stopped her movements and made eye contact. "It would be perfectly fine," she said in a softer tone. "Hypothetically," she returned to her professional voice.

He nodded, thoughtfully, before turning before to her. "So, how am I, Doc?"

She knew he was fully aware that she didn't really do any kind of examination at all. "How do you feel, Sir?"

"I feel good, Doc." He flashed her a patented O'Neill grin. "Real good."

She smiled back. "Well, then, you check out fine with me."

He jumped off the bed, much spryer than when he had come in. "Take it easy, Doc."

Janet watched him leave with a big smile on her face. She had a feeling that her and Daniel's plan was working; working like a charm.

Her suggestion to the Joint Chiefs wasn't just about Sam and the Colonel, it wasn't. She really did have honorable intentions when it came to the continuation of the race and the overall morale of the population. But, now that things were different, she couldn't help herself.

So, she enlisted Daniel, and they came up with a plan to give Sam and the Colonel a little push in the right direction.

Janet smiled to herself. Score one for the good guys.

- . - . -

Sam was sitting on a table in the center of camp, taking a drink from her canteen when Colonel O'Neill sauntered over. He was looking quite pleased with himself.

"What'd you have to see Janet about that's leaving you so . . ." she gestured to his mood, "so . . . happy?"

"Daniel told me I should go see her, that part went fine, but she did tell me something very interesting." The smile on his face was simply delicious. "Apparently, some of the rules around here are going to change."

Sam smiled back. "Yeah, she told me, too."

His brow furrowed. "She did?"

Sam nodded. "Wait, Daniel told you to go see her?"

He nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"Because he told me to go see Janet."

The Colonel frowned. "You don't think . . ."

Sam didn't answer, but yes she did think. She hadn't known that Daniel and Janet were so conniving. She watched him as he sat down next to her, pulling out his own canteen.

"So, what do you think?" he asked.

"About?"

"About Danny and the Doc trying to play matchmaker."

"I think I'd rather them not meddling around in my -- our -- personal lives. But," she smiled at him, "I'm glad the rules have changed."

He smiled back, "Me too."

They both sat quietly, sipping from their canteens, looking out around the Alpha Site at what was left of Earth.

"Do you suddenly feel that this is all that's expected of us?" he asked.

She let out a nervous chuckle. "You too?"

"'Cause we don't have to start anything right now . . . Unless you want to."

She gently knocked her knee against his. "Just because the rules have changed doesn't mean we need to jump into anything, or feel rushed."

He leaned over to her, and she knew his intention was to place a light kiss on her cheek. However, when she turned and met his gaze, he froze, suddenly self conscious. The corners of her lips curled up just barely and she leaned in towards him a little, holding his gaze.

"Colonel!" General Hammond's voice shouted from halfway across camp, causing Sam and the Colonel to jump apart, almost knocking their heads together violently. "You do not keep the Joint Chiefs waiting!" he shouted, waving his arm.

Jack smiled sheepishly at Sam. "I need to go."

She nodded. "Looks like it."

"Can we talk about this later?"

She nodded again.

He squeezed her knee while pretending to grab his canteen and refasten the cover before jumping up and jogging over to General Hammond and the awaiting Joint Chiefs.

Sam smiled to herself and took another swig. That went all right. Not great, but all right.

- . - . -

Jack and Sam slowly made their way away from base camp; P-90s strapped to their chests. They were, as far as anyone knew, just making routine rounds in the area. Really, they were trying to get some space to figure out what they were going to do.

"I don't know," Jack said, "it just doesn't feel right. Know what I mean?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I guess we've just kind of gotten use to the fact that things were never were going to change."

He glanced over at her. "But things did change."

"A lot of things."

"I feel like I need an excuse."

"Propagating the species would be a good excuse," she said, most likely without thinking.

"What?" Jack stopped in his tracks, shocked by her boldness.

"Sorry," she said, turning back to him. "I mean . . . "

"I don't want have to need an excuse."

Sam inhaled sharply and forced a quick toothy smile; the one she gave when she was nervous. "Me neither."

He took a step towards her. "The rules have changed and we don't need and excuse."

"I just feel like I'm being rushed into this."

Jack nodded. "Me too."

They shared an uncomfortable laugh.

"But I don't feel like I'm being forced into this," she said, stepping closer.

Jack stepped closer again, finally closing the distance between them. "I'm glad. 'Cause I'm definitely not being forced into this."

"So we can just go slow," she leaned towards him slightly.

"Yeah, sureyoubetcha," he leaned in as well, bringing their faces close together.

Her eyes slid shut as they continued to move towards each other ever so slightly.

"Come in, Jack," their radios buzzed. They both froze, painfully close to each other, their eyes popping open.

Jack leaned back far enough just to be able to reach his radio. "Yes, Daniel," he fumed.

"Newman and Huston came back with something, you and Sam should probably see it."

They both sighed heavily. "Duty calls," he said. Clicking his radio, he replied to Daniel: "We're on our way. Hold tight."

- . - . -

Sam sat in her makeshift lab, up to her elbows (figuratively) in a naquadah generator. One of the smaller units had bit-the-dust and she was trying to figure out why.

She didn't look up when she heard someone enter the lab, assuming it was Bill back with some lunch.

Without any warning, a face appeared on the other side of her magnifying glass. Not just any face, Jack O'Neill's face.

"Having fun, Carter?"

She laughed. "Yes, Sir." She put down her tools and looked up at him. He smiled, realizing that he was one of the only people who could get her to stop working with so little effort.

He rounded the table and leaned against it, next to her. "I thought we could continue our conversation from earlier."

She sat up a little straighter as he leaned his upper body towards her a little. "I thought we said everything that needed to be said," she said.

He scooted closer and leaned his face in closer, resting his hand on her thigh. "Yep."

She smiled and moved to meet him halfway.

"Well, they didn't have blue Jell-O, but," Bill announced, bursting into the lab.

"For cryin' out loud!" Jack exclaimed, jumping up and settling a few feet from Sam, who sat up and picked up her tools again.

Bill slowed down, noticing how awkward the two of them were standing. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

Jack headed towards the door. "Nope," he slapped Bill on the shoulder. "Not really." Catching one last look at her, Jack left.

Bill regarded Sam carefully. "Are you sure?"

She had already turned back to her reactor; at least, pretended to have turned back to her reactor. "Yeah, really, it was nothing."

- . - . -

San was exhausted. It had been a long day and she was upset about how things had gone with Colonel O'Neill -- with Jack. They both wanted this to happen, but the way things were going, nothing was happening.

She made her way to the weapons bunker to retire her P-90 and hit her rack. She unclipped the weapon from her chest and placed it on the table, getting some equipment to clean it out before retiring it.

She heard someone come in behind her, and glanced at the door; it was Jack. She tried to hide her smile by turning back to her weapon.

"Hey, Carter," he said making his way over to her, unclipping his own gun from his chest and placing it on the table next to hers. He reached over her for a few swabs to clean the barrel, his body coming into brief contact with hers.

When he removed the clip, she went to grab it from him and put it away with her own. Her hand came in contact with his.

He released the clip in favor of her hand. Their eyes drifted up from the object between them to each other.

She smiled softly, and before she could really think, Sam founded the distance between them decreasing steadily.

"Oh!" a surprised voice came from the doorway. "Good evening, Ma'am, Sir."

Both Sam and Jack jumped a mile, dropping the clip on the table. "Damn it!" Jack exclaimed.

"Are you alright, Sir?" the young woman, who Sam recognized as one of the Cadets from the academy.

Jack ignored her and turned to Sam. "Well, we had a good run," he said with disappointed annoyance before storming out.

The Cadet watched him leave; half questioning, half terrified. "Excuse me, Ma'am," she said, removing her own weapon. "Did I do something wrong here?"

Sam forced a smile. 'Other than coming in at the exact wrong time?' she thought. "Not at all, Cadet," she replied. "Take care of these, will you?" she gestured to the P-90s on the table.

"Yes, Ma'am," the Cadet replied and went to work as Sam started to leave. "Have a good evening, Ma'am."

"Small chance now," she muttered under her breath. Sam threw her hand up in response. "You too, Cadet."

- . - . -

Jack sunk to his bunk with a heavy sigh. Four times! He had been blocked today four times. And by what? The Joint Chiefs (which, after second thought, was a good excuse), evidence that there were large feline predators in the area, Bill Lee, and a random Cadet. Oi!

He ran his hand through his hair and started tugging at the laces on his boots. He got them off easy enough and stared at his wiggling toes.

He and Carter felt rushed into this, but, ironically enough, "this" wasn't happening. He sighed again. Every time they tried to rush, they got delayed.

A light knock on the door to his quarters brought his thoughts back to the present. "Come on," he made his way to his feet. "Carter," he said, surprised to see her.

What surprised him more was her outfit. Her boots and utility pants, but where there should have been a skivvy shirt and a utility jacket there was only a tank top. Flashes of a steamy locker room and a Broca-Virus-infected-Carter ran through his mind.

That tank top could only mean one thing.

She shoved her hands in her pockets, and smiled nervously, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "Hi."

"Hi," he echoed.

He didn't really know what to say, and -- from the look on her face -- he knew she didn't know what to say either.

"Talk about feeling rushed . . ." he said, trying to break the ice.

Sam blushed. Jack had never seen someone's face turn colors so fast. Her hand shot to her mouth. "Oh my God."

Yep, he embarrassed her. Smooth move, O'Neill, smooth.

"I should go," she turned around and started to rush out.

He caught her arm. "Carter!" He took a deep breath, "Sam," he said softly.

She settled backwards, relieving the physical tension between them; the emotional tension still hanging thick.

"Sorry," he said as she turned back to him. "I, ah, didn't know what else to say."

She forced another nervous smile. "Things seemed so much easier earlier today. Now it's just . . . awkward."

"This is what you want, isn't it?" he asked.

She was taken back, a little. "You think I would have come here in this, quote 'sweet little tank top number' if it wasn't?"

He smiled at the memory of the Broca Virus incident. "Unless you're sick . . ." He paused, pretending to think. "You're feeling alright, right?"

She nodded, acknowledging his joke.

The silence hung for a few moments, moments that felt like hours.

"No one's gonna come rushing in here with some major crisis?" he asked.

"I, uh, asked Janet and Teal'c to discretely make sure we weren't bothered."

"You think of everything." Jack smiled.

His smiled slowly faded and the horribly awkward silence returned.

"Maybe we should just rip the band-aid off," Sam suggested.

"I don't want this to have to be a band-aid moment."

"I don't want to have to walk back to my own room tonight." She took a step towards him. "Unless you want me to leave."

He shook his head, becoming more and more aware of her proximity to him. "I don't want you to leave," he said in a husky whisper.

She took another step toward him. When a whispered "good" escaped from her lips he almost melted. He completely forgot about any and all inhibitions he may or may not of had at one point in his life. He completely forgot where they were, because it didn't matter. He completely forgot that the planet had been all but destroyed less than six months ago.

All he knew was Samantha Carter.

He reached out to her, resting his hands on her hips instinctively. His eyes locked on her face. When her tongue darted out and wet her lips involuntarily he almost collapsed in a heap.

Making themselves imperceptibly closer, he rested his forehead against hers and tried to remember how to breathe.

"You are so-" he tried to think of a good adjective but his thoughts were interrupted by her lips on his. It was slow and sweet, but breath-taking.

She broke the kiss and rested her forehead back against his. "Holy Hannah," she whispered.

"Awesome," he breathed. "You are so awesome."

Her eyes lit up as a smile exploded across her face. "Awesome, huh?" She kissed him again.

- . - - - . -