Disclaimer in chapter 1

23

The door bell was ringing incessantly. Woken from an afternoon nap, Jack rolled over on his bed, waited a moment then yelled, "Charlie! Answer the door!" The bell rang again, forcing Jack to get up to do the task his son should have been able to do since he was downstairs anyway. Charging down the stairs, Jack saw Charlie sprawled on the couch, headphones turned up so loud Jack could hear tinny echos across the room.

"Charlie!" he shouted again, stalking over to the door where the bell had been depressed yet again. "What!" he bellowed, swinging the door open. Jack blinked in surprise at the sea of olive green standing on his porch.

"Kawalsky? What the. . .?"

"Hey, Jack," he said with a smirk. "Can we come in?" It took Jack a moment to process the fact his friend had stepped into his foyer.

"Oh, God," he mumbled. "It's Sam, isn't it? Something's happened to her!"

Kawalsky patted Jack's shoulder, reassuring him. "Sam's fine, but we need to talk. These are my team mates. Louis Ferretti, and Janet Fraiser." Jack merely nodded at the strangers.

Charlie, at last realizing something was going on, sat up, pulling the headphones out of his ears. "Uncle Charlie!" He was up in one smooth movement, crossing the floor to embrace his namesake. "What're you doing here?"

Kawalsky looked over at Jack as he placed his hand on the back of the boy's neck, shaking him lightly. "I need to talk to your dad. Think you can give us a few minutes?"

"Uh, sure. This is about Sam, isn't it? What happened to her? Why did you guys take her?"

Kawalsky exchanged a look with the two who'd accompanied him. "Were not the ones who took her. Look, she's fine. She told me to tell you not to worry."

"Then why isn't she coming home?"

"Charlie," Jack warned. "We'll talk later."

"Fine," he huffed, gathering his music player and textbook. "The kid is always the last to know." Charlie's footfalls could be heard on the stairs as Jack led the trio into the kitchen.

"Sound doesn't carry upstairs as much from here," he explained, taking a seat and motioning the others to have one as well. "So, what's this about?"

Ferretti stepped forward, brandishing a stack of papers and a pen. "If you'll just sign here, Mr. O'Neill, we can get started."

Taking the papers, Jack glanced at the heading. "Confidentiality agreement? I can't sign this not knowing what I'm getting into," he complained to Kawalsky.

"Then we can't talk to you about Sam," Charlie told him.

"Something has happened, hasn't it?"

"Yes, but I can't talk about it until you sign the document," Kawalsky stressed. "Look, I promise it's okay. It's just a statement that anything you see, say or hear will remain confidential. You're not giving up your rights, what we're about to tell you can't become public knowledge." Jack continued to be skeptical. "Jack, I promise you on our friendship this is the right thing to do."

Weighing his options, Jack decided to take the outstretched papers. After all, Kawalsky wouldn't steer him wrong, but he wasn't so sure about the rest of the Army. After a quick perusal, he signed his name in the several places Ferretti pointed out. Once the man was satisfied, he nodded at Kawalsky.

"Let's start with what I actually do," Kawalsky began, taking a seat opposite Jack. "I work on a secret government project at Area 51. Our operation is called the Stargate Coalition."

Jack's head shot up. "The SGC?" The three newcomers looked among themselves, shocked.

"Yeah," Kawlsky said, "How did you know?"

"Sam talked about the place she used to work as being called the 'SGC' for Stargate Command." Jack looked at the people in his kitchen. From their reactions, he was getting the feeling it wasn't just some fantasy she'd dreamed up, and he felt his stomach drop. It can't possibly be true. . . . "So, what's this all about?"

Kawalsky was staring at him. "Why don't you tell us what you know."

Rubbing his hands over his face, Jack was undecided. If he told these three what Sam had admitted in confidence, his sins would be two-fold. One, that he'd violated her trust, and second feeling like an idiot for starting to believe some of the things she'd told him. "Most of what she told me was in confidence," he hedged.

"Under the circumstances, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you told us," Janet prompted.

"You expect me to keep your secrets. I think she deserves the same consideration."

Kawalsky smiled. "You make a good point. Okay, it would have saved us some time, but I'll tell you what I know. Last November there was an incident at the SGC. A woman, Samantha Carter, came through our Stargate. Not only that, she came from an alternate universe. We didn't know any of this until a few days ago when the misplaced security footage ended up on Colonel Jackson's desk."

"Wait a second-Daniel Jackson?"

"Uh, yeah. Do you know him?"

"We haven't met, but Sam talks about him a lot. He's real? She talked about him being an archaeologist, what's he doing in the military?"

"It's one of the differences between this universe and hers," Ferretti interjected.

Jack got up and began pacing the room, running his fingers through his hair. "I can't believe this is real," he muttered to himself. If it hadn't been his best friend sitting there corroborating Sam's story, he never would have believed it. As it was, the evidence was stacking up and the bizarre story Sam had relayed was becoming increasingly factual.

Jack looked up, his gaze touching on each of them. "Why was she taken? What kind of secrets does she have?"

"We're not sure why Kinsey wanted her. We think it was because she breached our Stargate and he considers her a security risk. He's the one who had her picked up."

"Wait a second!" Jack cried. "Kinsey? As in Vice-President Kinsey?"

"Mr. O'Neill," Janet began. Her voice was calm, and he had the feeling she was trying to talk him down from a ledge.

"Call me 'Jack.'"

"Jack," she said, giving him a warm smile. "We need Major Carter to help us with a. . .problem. One her talents are particularly suited for. I promise you, she's no longer being held again her will."

"Major" Carter caught Jack's attention. How many times had she told him she'd been on a military team and he'd just humored her? Hell, he wasn't even sure he believed she was an astrophysicist most of the time, despite the things she knew. And the Vice-President for cryin' out loud! No one he knew ran in those kinds of circles. Now to find out his best friend and girlfriend did?

"If she's not being held, why isn't she home, or why hasn't she called?"

"She's chosen to stay on the base to continue her work. She wants to call you, but thought we should talk to you first. Give you a bit of a heads-up," Janet informed.

"Oh, God, there's more?" Jack wasn't sure how much additional information he could take. His whole existence was coming unglued and starting to splinter.

"Apparently you figure into this," Kawalsky said.

"Me! How do I. . . .?" Jack realized he was practically shouting, and Charlie was no doubt upstairs straining to hear what was going on in the kitchen. Lowering his voice he said, "She told me I was the leader of her team where. . .where she comes from, but she couldn't possibly think I have the skills to lead some military team!"

The three soldiers exchanged amused glances, Kawalsky was chuckling when he clapped Jack on the shoulder. "Um, no. That's not quite what she has in mind. Look, I don't really get what makes you special either, but the big guns want you on the base for something. We're just the escort service."

"You're here to take me some where? Like Area 51? I can't leave! What about Charlie? What about my classes?"

"Let us handle the arrangements," Kawalsky tried to placate him as Jack's cell phone rang. Picking up the device, Jack saw Sam's ID displayed.

"Sam! Oh, thank God! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. God, Jack it's so good to hear your voice!"

Jack closed his eyes, relief washing over him. "It's good to hear yours, too," he sighed. Moving into the living room to get what privacy he could, he asked, "When are you coming home?"

"Aren't Kawalsky and the rest of SG-1 there? Haven't they explained things?"

"Yeah, they're here, and they've tried to explain things, but I'm really not getting it. Why can't you come home? What do you need me for?"

"Jack, you know I'd come home if I could, and I can't tell you over the phone why we need you."

We, Jack thought. With this group for a day and it was already We. He knew she missed her old life, but was the one he'd offered her so bad? That she was trading it in first chance she got?

"What I'm doing is important. You'll understand when you come here." One thing was for certain-she knew how to hook him. Sam knew his innate curiosity would get the better of him and he'd be leaving with the group seated in his kitchen.

"What am I supposed to do about Charlie?" There was a long silence, and Jack wondered if his son had even crossed her radar. She'd told him O'Neill had lost his son, so finding someone to watch out for the boy wouldn't have been an issue in her world.

Her world. With each passing second Jack felt as if he was losing Sam to some phantasmal existence he had no part of. Except she was reaching out to him, trying to bring him along. It was his choice. He could go with Kawalsky and his team, be a part of some greater cause, or stay here, becoming bitter Sam had chosen her destiny over him.

"I'm not sure what to tell you, Jack. What about Mike?" Sam hadn't met Charlie's maternal grandfather, but knew he lived near by. Her suggestion was a good one; about the only option he would consider, actually.

"I'll talk to him. If we can work something out, I'll come. This better be big, Sam."

"You have no idea," she said, and Jack could hear the smile in her voice. That had to be a good sign, he figured. Turning his attention back to the entourage, he held the phone out so Sam could hear his answer to Kawalsky.

"Looks like we're going to Nevada."

A/N—We still have a lot of ground to cover, so I'm going to continue to post two chapters a day. Everyone's shown a remarkable commitment to this story and I appreciate your dedication! Chapter 24 later today.