Hey, friends!
Just another reminder for you about updating your email preferences. If you aren't receiving email updates from FF dot Net, you need to go to "settings" and opt in. You'll need to do this every six months, or you'll no longer get emails about updates or new stories by authors that you're subscribed to.
Thanks! And Happy Reading!
Beauty In The Broken
Pegging
"Hey, Sam. We're just about ready to head out."
Sam looked up from her computer screen to see her husband in her doorway. She'd been staring at the theoretical 3-D configurations all morning without really seeing them. No matter how many times she scanned the computer generated cross sections of the Ancient power module, she couldn't decipher exactly what made it work.
Jack's entrance wasn't so much an interruption as a mercy.
"Four days?"
"Maybe five." He'd stopped just inside the door to her lab, leaning against the concrete wall. "Depends on how excited Daniel gets about the whole thing."
"Five days." She couldn't help it—her eyes flickered to the calendar sitting between her monitor and the framed photo of Jack and Jake she'd put there last week. "If all goes well, you'll be home Christmas Eve Eve."
"Is that even a thing?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"Well then, I wouldn't miss it."
They'd said their goodbyes earlier that morning—before the sun had peeked above the horizon. Before Jake had awakened and the moon had started to fade in the pink light of dawn. Jack had rolled towards her, pulling her close and beguiling her into consciousness with his hands and lips and body.
It had been a delicious way to ease into the day—even when she knew that he'd be leaving before the end of it. Even when she had a status conference later that afternoon with Colonel Torres, to whom she still had nothing concrete to offer. Even when the Groom Lake people had taken to slipping in passively critical comments about her lack of progress with the Ancient weapon. Being so completely relished by her husband had mitigated at least part of the funk she'd felt at his leaving.
Still—four (five?) days without him. It was the longest they'd been apart since she'd shown up at his cabin.
His lip twitched upwards. "I will, however, miss you and Jake."
"Jake will be bereft without you."
"Just Jake, huh?"
He took another step into the room, his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his BDUs. They were desert brown, this mission. It was a sandy planet—barren terrain, with a rocky topography. SG-6 had included all of that—and more—in their initial report. The only thing that SG-1 was supposed to do was scout out the ruins, which lay a considerable distance from the 'Gate, and determine whether they truly contained anything of strategic value.
Just because she wasn't going on the mission didn't mean that she couldn't peek at the specs.
Sam smiled at him through the darkness. "And I'll miss you, too."
"Absolutely devastated at my leaving, I can tell."
"I'll do nothing but weep."
He actually laughed at that, but the sound fell flat on the odd quietude of the lab. He was obviously feeling it too—whatever it was that had cast a pall over Sam. "Walk with me to the 'Gateroom?"
She didn't need to be asked twice. Staring at the computer monitor wasn't accomplishing anything, anyway. A few minutes' break couldn't do anything but help.
The corridor was vacant. Not unusual for her section of the base—especially now that her lab wasn't considered an official part of the SGC anymore.
They moved at an easy pace. Left at the corner, then straight through a pair of interconnecting hallways towards the elevator bay.
"So, I'll see you when we get back." He was trying to keep things positive.
So was she. She leaned in to nudge him, her hand brushing against his without grasping it. "I'll have dinner waiting."
His expression turned at once skeptical and amused. "How very domestic of you."
"Well, at least I'll have some menus ready."
His fingers did grip hers, then, squeezing briefly before letting go. "At the very least, save the whole tree decoration thing until I'm home. That's something that I really don't want to miss."
They'd decided on a real tree for Jake's first Christmas. For their first Christmas as a family. Sam hadn't been as determined about it as Jack had been. He'd already decided on where he wanted to go to cut the thing. But between the last mission and the preliminary work for this one, there hadn't been time.
Nodding, Sam led them around a corner, slowing slightly when a group of SFs crossed in front of them. "I know. We've already decided on that."
"I'm just saying." Jack looked down at her, raising his eyebrows. "Just in case you get impatient."
"I already promised, Jack." They were alone in the corridor, so she took the opportunity to take his hand again, leaning in to press her cheek against the roughness of his sleeve before letting go and moving away. "I won't let you miss anything else."
There had never been an official statement made one way or the other about displays of affection between married couples on base. Truthfully, a situation had never been present necessitating such an edict. Sam and Jack had simply chosen to avoid the kind of interaction that would draw attention to their new circumstances.
Besides—since her transfer to the Groom Lake division and Jack's continuation with SG-1, they rarely even saw each other during their working hours, so the point was largely moot anyway. Gone were the days when the team congregated in Sam's lab to discuss mission plans or theories about technology or people. Now, SG-1—comprised of Daniel, Teal'c, Jack, and Bledsoe—tended to gather in Daniel's sanctum or in the base library to discuss such things.
Some days, Sam would meet up with them all for lunch in the mess, but only when their schedules converged. Even then, she felt a little out of place with Major Bledsoe lounging along beside Daniel and Teal'c.
She felt very much like a fifth wheel. Literally and figuratively.
Last week, when SG-1 had forayed off-world for the meet-and-greet, Jack had poked his head into her lab to let her know he was leaving. She'd waved him goodbye without a second thought. They'd only been gone overnight, and Sam had barely had time to think about missing him except for deep in the night when her bed had felt too large—too cold.
This time? This time felt different. And whether it was the length of this mission, her struggles with her own assignment, getting ready for their first Christmas as a family, or her misgivings about single-momming it for the better part of a week—she had a certain amount of apprehension about the days to come.
Still, they'd both decided to keep things light. No drama. Be optimistic. Stopping at the elevator doors, Jack punched the button and turned to face her. "Well, be good. Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone."
"How much trouble can I get into while stuck in my lab all day?"
"Dunno." He broke into a real smile, this time. "You might just reach through your computer screen and throttle Torres. End up in the brig. Court martial. Firing squad at dawn."
"It's not that bad."
But it was, and they both knew it. Sam hadn't complained, but Jack could read her well enough that he'd figured it out. He hadn't intervened—not because she'd asked him not to, but because he'd known that she'd rather deal with it on her own.
It was still a jolt to realize how well he knew her. And whether it was the past few months since they'd returned from the ice planet, the last several weeks of marriage, or the preceding four years of working day in and day out together that had allowed him this wisdom didn't really matter. It was a toss up.
Sam watched as the doors slid open, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. It went both ways. Of course, living together—being together—sleeping together—had given her a greater ability to read him, as well. Enough to know that he was feeling the same unease that was affecting her. There was a tightness to his jaw, to his bearing, a falsity in his voice that gave him away.
"Anyway. I'll be fine." She pushed the button this time, Level 28. "I just really need to buckle down and figure this thing out."
"You'll do it." Jack took a few steps backwards, leaning against the back wall of the car. "By the time I get back, you'll have things sorted."
"I doubt that." She wanted to touch him, but stepped backwards instead, cognizant of the security camera hovering overhead. Leaning back against the elevator's wall, she raised a shoulder. "I'm pretty certain that the Colonel is cursing the names of everyone who saddled him with me. He's not my greatest fan."
"If your current CO doesn't realize what he has in you, he really doesn't deserve to have you in his command."
She grinned up at the numbers changing on the display above the door, throwing a wry look in her husband's direction. "If my last CO had just kept his grubby mitts to himself, we wouldn't be in this situation."
"Smart ass."
"I learned from the best."
"And yet I have so much more to teach you." His look turned just a little dirty. A promise, perhaps, for when he returned.
The doors slid wide, and Sam immediately pushed away from the wall. Walking into the hallway, she dodged around a couple of young techs and met back up with Jack on the other side. "Anyway. I'm trying to keep things positive. Torres may not like me much, but I'm determined to crack this device."
"I have no doubt that you'll do it."
Sam bit back a grin. At least one Colonel had faith in her. The most important one. She looked over at him, unsurprised that his eyes were on her. "Did you remember to pack sunscreen?"
"Yep."
"And you've planned water and rations for extra days—just in case?"
"Yes, ma'am."
They turned a corner and descended a quick flight of stairs. Passing the downstairs armory, they continued on through another intersection and on towards the 'Gateroom.
She scrunched up her nose, feeling her cheeks grow pink "I know that you're capable of taking care of yourself. I just worry."
His smile was endearingly smug. "I know."
They'd reached the main doorway into the 'Gateroom. Just beyond the threshold, Teal'c, Daniel, and Bledsoe stood—geared up and waiting. Jack's pack and gear lay ready at Teal'c's feet, and Daniel was holding Jack's weapon. All three of them perked up as soon as he neared, waiting expectantly for him to join them.
Jack threw a look towards his team before looking back at his wife. "Well."
"Well." Sam smiled. "It's time."
"Four days." This time, his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Five—tops."
"I'll be here."
"Take care."
She wanted to touch him. Wanted to kiss him. Wanted to feel his strength against her before he walked through that wormhole. But with everyone looking on, with the awkwardness of their situation, and the rumors and innuendos still swirling around the place, it didn't seem right. In the end, she simply smiled and shuffled backwards a bit. "Be safe, okay?"
"You too." His expression was odd—he was looking at her as if trying to memorize her features. "I'm really going to miss you, Sam."
"Me too."
He took a few steps backwards before pivoting and striding towards his team. Grabbing up his pack, he tossed it over his shoulders and secured the straps at his waist and chest. Daniel handed him his weapon as the piercing tones of the claxons heralded the start of the dialing sequence.
It was so familiar—the huge blue kawhoosh of the forming event horizon, the change in light as the puddle glowed up at the top of the embarkation ramp. And yet, it still felt foreign to remain Earth-side rather than to be walking into the circle of beckoning blue.
Daniel and Teal'c threw friendly little waves in Sam's direction as they followed the MALP up the ramp, but Jack hung back a little, double checking his mags and adjusting the connector at the front of his vest. Bledsoe had stopped halfway up, pivoting half-way to wait as O'Neill made his last-minute adjustments.
And then, he was ready. Weapon clipped in place, glasses hanging from their strap at his neck, hat in hand. He started up the ramp to join his team.
"Jack!" Sam stepped forwards, stopping just within the frame of the door.
Apparently satisfied with his gear, he pivoted, aiming a questioning look in Sam's direction. "What?"
"Come back to me, okay?"
His smile was slow, easy. More intimate than it should have been, given the circumstances. Throwing a little salute her way, he stepped backwards up the ramp towards the event horizon. "Always."
—-OOOOOOO—-
Sam groaned, leaning forward to rest her face in her hands. She'd been staring at the power core for hours, it seemed, ever since she'd walked into her lab that morning.
Tilting her chin up slightly, she peeked between two fingers at the clock on her computer monitor. Quarter to four. She needed to leave exactly at five this evening so that she would be there to pick up Jake before six. Francie and her husband had tickets to something downtown—a fancy last hurrah for them before their baby was due at the end of next month.
Sam had quickly learned that the key to making the whole 'working mom' gig feasible was reliable child care. Without someone watching Jake, the rest of her life dissolved into impossible chaos. So? The last thing she was going to do was make Francie mad.
Besides—Francie loved Jake nearly as much as Sam and Jack did. In addition to the experience and education she brought to the table, she was a genuinely lovely human being. Sam would be stupid to take advantage of her, or of their burgeoning friendship.
She'd arrived at the mountain just after eight this morning, and had been sitting in this precise spot practically ever since—every tick of her watch counting down to another video conference with a group of scientists in Groom Lake who were rapidly losing what little confidence they had left in her abilities to ferret out the mysteries of the crystal suspended in its sling on her lab table.
And damned if she weren't losing faith in herself, as well.
Straightening, she reached out and pulled the yellow legal pad on which she'd been taking notes towards her. She squinched her eyes closed before looking down at it. Maybe—maybe—something new had magically appeared on the page. Hell—stranger things had happened lately, right?
But alas, no such luck.
Crystalline structure composed of varying degrees and thicknesses.
Possible liquid base or core? Gaseous? Plasma?
Man made rather than naturally occurring.
Possible guided growth under controlled circumstances, mineral seeding? Tok'ra tunnels?
Crystal structure manipulates energy?
Power growth coincides with crystal growth?
She'd found a similar notepad within the paperwork that Samantha had brought through the mirror so many months before. The notes upon it had been nearly identical to the ones she was looking at now—handwriting and all. Just one more eerie reminder of what had brought her to this moment. The fact that Samantha had gotten no further in her study of the device than had Sam wasn't comforting.
Also frustrating was the fact that Sam herself hadn't added anything to the list today. She'd taken a scraping from what she hoped was a benign section of the power source the week before, but the results of the tests comparing the sample to the bits of Tok'ra and Goa'uld crystals she'd collected over the years hadn't come in yet.
She'd X-rayed the module her first day back after the wedding, a test which had yielded very little information. An MRI scan would give her cross sections of the thing, but without knowing the exact makeup of the crystal, subjecting it to magnetic resonance might cause more problems than it helped to solve. In addition, she'd discovered that the module emitted a slight magnetic charge. It was a fact that was interesting, but Sam had yet to figure out why.
It hadn't helped that SG-10 had brought back a pair of strange devices that they'd encountered in an abandoned naquadah mining camp. General Bermudez had personally tasked her with deciphering what their uses were, and what, if any, their potential benefits might be. Her already limited work hours had thus been shaved down even further by the new assignment.
"Aw, Major." The General had sounded amused by her protestation, chuckling into the phone. "If what I've heard about you is true, you'll have it all figured out in no time. You're famous around these parts for burning the midnight oil until you've put all the pieces in place."
However, burning the midnight oil was harder when you had to pick your kid up from daycare, feed him, bathe him, and hope that he slept through the night. She'd hauled an entire boxful of paperwork home that first evening Jack had been gone and worked until she'd fallen asleep at her desk. It had been Jake, happily babbling in his crib, that had woken her just after dawn
Not that being in bed would have helped the situation.
She'd barely slept since Jack had left. Work, worries, feeling—alone. She'd also become accustomed to certain—activities—during the last month that she was now missing rather acutely.
She was tired. Antsy. Frustrated, annoyed, and not just a little snippy.
And at this exact moment in time? She was hungry. Her stomach had started grumbling several hours ago—but with the looming deadline of her team meeting with Torres, added to the report that the General was expecting in his email the next morning, she hadn't wanted to waste any time going up to the mess.
She really didn't feel like eating, anyway. The disquietude she'd felt watching Jack go up the ramp had only deepened during his absence. Her stomach had been in turmoil since noon the day before, concern burgeoning within her like a bloom of toxic algae.
Ever since SG-1 had missed its check in.
Twenty-seven hours—Sam made a hasty check of the clock—twenty-eight hours late for their first scheduled call home.
She'd chalked it up to Daniel. The mission specs said that the suspected Ancient ruins were roughly twenty klicks from the 'Gate. They'd been seen first through the lens of a drone. SG-6 had scouted the area, but only Daniel had the wherewithal to decide exactly what the place was. And if they were, indeed, significant, then Jack would be hard pressed to drag Daniel away before he was finished with his examination of the place.
Still, given that mission parameters allowed for five days on the far end, Hammond wouldn't send another MALP through until they were a full day past due that, which would be another twenty hours from now. Give or take.
Her stomach lurched again. Damn it.
"Sam?"
Startled, Sam turned towards the voice. The silhouette in the doorway was instantly recognizable—and beyond welcome. "Janet."
"Am I interrupting something?"
It wouldn't have mattered if she were—the doctor already made her way across the room to stop next to the large laboratory table.
Sam shook her head. "Not really."
Janet made a cursory scan of the power module before peeping over at the notepad. "Have you made any progress?"
"None." Sam let out a strangled sort of chuckle. "At least, nothing that will satisfy Colonel Torres."
"He's still expecting you to work miracles."
"He still resents me being on the team at all." She picked up a pen, twiddling it between her fingers. "Even if I do manage to pull all the answers out of my butt, he still wouldn't want me under his command."
"I wonder why." Dark hair bobbed around her ears as Janet shook her head. "It makes no sense."
"I'm pretty sure it has a lot to do with the situation. With Jack and me. With how things have shaken out."
Janet's cute little nose wrinkled at that. "Yes. There is a certain stigma attached to majors who marry their commanding officers."
"Especially given that neither one of us was punished or demoted." Sam looked down at the pen in her hand. "The truth is that we have been given preferential treatment. For someone as old school as Torres, that has to stick in his craw."
For several long seconds, Janet just gazed off into the darkness past Sam, her brow furrowed as she considered something seemingly nebulous. Finally, she sucked in a deep breath and frowned. "Where exactly is a craw? I'm a doctor, and I don't recall learning about that body part in my anatomy classes."
Despite it all, Sam actually laughed. "I wish I knew. Regardless, knowing wouldn't help my current circumstances."
"Really, Sam." Janet's white-clad shoulders lifted. "The fact that you and Jack are married shouldn't give him permission to treat you like he does."
"I don't think it's the marriage as much as the special treatment."
"You being allowed to remain here in the Springs with your family and being given responsibility over this particular assignment." Janet sighed. "Some might see that as quite the gift from the Pentagon."
"And given that Torres has very little input into my day-to-day work here, and given the special allowances I've been given because of Jake and the Antarctic weapon—"
"He resents being put in the position of being what is essentially a figurehead leader with no true bite to accompany his bark."
Nodding, Sam set the pen back down. "Exactly."
"Still waiting on those test results?"
"Yep." Leaning forward, Sam braced herself on her elbows. "Which is a whole other problem."
"Oh?" Janet mirrored Sam's pose on the lab table, peering at her friend through the relative dimness. "How so?"
"They have all the equipment that I need at Groom Lake. But since I'm based here—" she shrugged, trailing off into silence.
"You have to send your samples to an approved laboratory, which exacerbates your issues."
"Torres isn't willing to provide me with the instruments I need, since he already has them in his facility." Sam sighed. "And General Hammond doesn't have the authority to requisition equipment for a command that isn't under his purview."
With a grimace, Janet blew out a heavy sigh. "That all sucks, my friend."
"I'm planning on going to the Academy after the holidays to use their labs. See if I can get things moving a little faster."
"That would be a nice change of scenery."
"It would indeed." Reaching to the other side of her computer monitor, Sam picked up the tray holding the alien devices that SG-11 had found. Setting it on the table, she picked one up, turning it in her fingers for Janet to see. "But at least I'm pretty sure I know what these are."
"Oh?"
Handing the object to Janet, Sam scooted back a ways from the desk, leaning to one side and pulling open a drawer. She took out a small container, from which she withdrew a few pieces of metal—each about the size of a pea. She placed one in front of Janet, and slid the other one directly in front of herself.
"What's this?"
"Naquadah."
Janet's dark eyes flew wide. "You keep naquadah in your desk drawer?"
"They're just samples, Janet."
The doctor rotated the device in her hands, studying it. It fit nicely in the palm of her hand—egg-shaped, but larger—like an oversized gold computer mouse. A thin leather thong attached with gold hinges on either side went over the top of her hand, securing the device to her palm. The rounded top was smooth, angling down to a thinner edge where ten smaller stones had been bezel-set into the gold. A large crystal gleamed at the midpoint of the elongated section, surrounded by ornately-carved Goa'uld symbols.
Janet flipped it over to inspect the underside of the thing, where a large piece of opaque glass was set into the bottom. "So, what does it do?"
"Patience, Janet." Sam put the bit of metal on the tray, then picked up the other one of the alien gadgets, threading the thong over her hand. She turned it on by running her finger over the large stone near the top, watching as the crystals around the edges flashed to life.
"Pretty."
"And useful." Sam reached out, passing the gadget over one of the bits of Naquadah. After a second, the lights on the outermost edge strobed back and forth, finally stopping with four still alight. Looking up at her friend, she nodded towards the second sample. "Now do yours."
Janet turned on her device, then allowed it to hover over the tiny bit of alien mineral. The lights on her device strobed briefly, eventually ending up with all ten lit.
"So, what's that mean?"
"Hold on." Digging underneath her collar with her index finger, Sam snagged her dog tags. She dragged them over her head and laid them on the lab table. With a slow move of her hand, she passed the device over the steel chain, then turned it towards her friend to show her that no lights had remained glowing.
Understanding dawned bright in the doctor's dark eyes. Grinning, Janet gestured towards the devices. "They measure the purity of naquadah samples."
"Exactly." Putting the gadget back on the table, Sam picked the little bits of Naquadah back up and returned them to their container. "SG-10 found them at an abandoned mining operation. I theorized that they had to have been used for something related to Naquadah."
"Smart."
"It was nothing more than an educated guess that paid off."
"Well." Janet laid the second instrument next to its twin, straightening to angle a look at her friend. "Just make a few more of those educated guesses, and figuring out the power module should be a breeze."
Sam snorted. "I wish."
Janet watched Sam put the devices back on their tray. "At the very least, you'll have something positive to report in your meeting this afternoon."
"Yeah. I guess." With a little grunt, Sam put the tray back where she'd gotten it from, then stowed the naquadah back in the drawer. She'd take it back to the storage lock up on her way out of the Mountain tonight. Pushing the drawer closed, she tilted her head to look at her friend. "What are you and Cassie up to tonight?"
"She and I are making gingerbread cookies and watching White Christmas."
"That sounds pretty awesome."
"You could join us, you know." Janet's eyes widened. "I hope you always know that you and Jake are welcome."
Sam nodded, glancing at the picture on her desk. Jack holding Jake on the day that they'd gotten married. Jack was still wearing his service dress, and Jake was looking at his daddy with blatant adoration. Cassie had snapped the picture with Daniel's camera, getting lucky in the moment. Sam's entire world, encompassed within a frame. She found herself smiling—although whether it was because of the picture or Janet's invitation was a toss-up. "Thank you. I do."
The doctor's expression had turned speculative. "But you're not going to come."
"Not tonight." With a look at her watch, she flipped the switch that powered up her monitor. Her video call would start in a few minutes. "I was going to go get some decorations on my way home. Try to make the house look a little festive."
"It's only a few days until Christmas, Sam. You're really going to wait for the Colonel to get home before you put up the tree?"
"I promised." Sam stood, resituating her stool so that she'd be centered in the camera. "But that doesn't mean that I can't get some other things. I bought some ornaments and lights the other day, and those are ready for when Jack gets home. But there are still some other things that we need. Garland. A wreath. Stockings. A star for the top of the tree."
"Have you ever actually put up a Christmas tree in your house?"
A little sheepishly, Sam shook her head. "Not even once. I've put some lights up outside, but that's been the extent of the decorating. There really hasn't been a reason to do it."
"Until now."
"Until now." Sam's gaze went back to the photo. "Now that I have Jake."
Janet reached out towards where Sam's dog tags still lay on the table top. With her finger, she moved aside one of the leather-rimmed metal plates to expose the thick platinum wedding ring caught on the chain. "Now that you have Jake and the Colonel."
Pressing her lips together, Sam took up her dog tags and slipped the chain back over her head. "He didn't want to wear it off-world. He was afraid he'd lose it."
"So you're wearing it for him?"
"I thought that I could give it to him." She slid the chain, the tags, and the ring under the collar of her shirt. "When he gets home tomorrow."
"And it makes you feel better to have it close to you."
Biting back a smile, Sam nodded. "Yeah. It does."
Janet's eyes glinted in the dim lighting of the lab. "I heard that they missed their check in."
"I'm sure it's nothing." Sam tried to sound casual. "The ruins were really far from the 'Gate, and Daniel has probably insisted that they stay there until he's gotten all the pictures and information that he needs."
"So, you're not worried?"
Not worried, per se. Anxious. Antsy. Uneasy. But not worried. Not yet, at least. "It's only been a few hours. One missed check in."
"And they'd scheduled five days for the trip. It's only been four."
Sam's smile expressed far more confidence than she actually felt. But there was no use borrowing trouble. The Colonel—her husband—would have wanted her to stay positive. "I'm sure that everything's fine."
"Okay." Janet grinned. "Well, I had been worried about you. But it looks like you've got things under control."
"Yep."
"So, I'll leave you to your meeting, and if you need anything at all—" she took a step backwards, her heels clicking lightly on the concrete floor. "Call me. Okay?"
"Sure."
"And now I have to go and get more debris out of Mecham's calf."
"What happened to Mecham?"
"You really are out of the loop, aren't you?" Janet's brows practically reached her hairline. "She and SG-6 were on a mission when she fell into a nest of some sort and sustained a large abrasion. Whatever lived in the nest laid eggs in Mecham's skin."
"Okay—I'm glad I missed that." Sam grimaced. "That's gross."
"We managed to kill whatever was in the eggs, but it's been a slow process debriding the wound. I finally resorted to using suction. It's proven fairly efficient."
"Still sounds gross."
"Oh, it's vile." Janet chuckled. "But Lieutenant Mecham thinks it's hilarious and fascinating. She's an odd one."
"Alright then." Sam shook her head with a slight shudder. "Go. Suck eggs."
With a smile, Janet turned to leave, her heels tapping lightly on the concrete as she made her way towards the hall. As she reached the door, she pivoted. "You know, Sam. It's too bad you can't just suck the secrets out of your big crystal there. Attach some kind of vacuum to it and extract whatever information you want. Wouldn't that be a kick?"
Sam frowned, shifting her focus between her friend and the power core still dangling in its sling. "Yeah. That would be nice."
Janet shrugged one shoulder and grinned. "Anyway. See you later, sweetie."
Sam's computer signaled an incoming call as soon as Janet had disappeared into the hall.
—-OOOOOOO—-
The parallel hadn't been lost on her. Sam had recognized it as soon as she'd touched his wedding band.
Jack had left his ring on the dresser next to the wooden bowl where he dropped the loose change that always ended up in his pocket at the end of the day. And then, he'd grabbed his jacket and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. Waffles with jam. He and Jake had made faces at each other as he'd worked at the counter. Their laughter had been both contagious and wonderful.
Sam had held off for more than a day before she'd given in. Before she'd arisen from the bed during that second sleepless night and crossed to the chest of drawers. Before she'd reached out and actually picked up the ring, sliding it on and off her index finger, her middle finger, her ring finger. It had been too large even for her thumb, slipping easily past her knuckle to loll haphazardly at the joint.
She'd looked over her shoulder at the kintsugi cup on her nightstand, at where the chain of the other Colonel's dog tags draped—barely visible—on the lip of the gold-fletched vessel. Where within, the man's band—and the other Samantha's wedding set—lay in a glittering jumble.
The house had lain silent around her, but for the constant drone of the furnace and the intermittent flurries of wind outside. There was no sound from the street—the neighborhood resting peacefully, cloaked in darkness and the brackish cold of midwinter. Through her bedroom window, Sam could see the hazy glow of the Christmas lights on her eaves, and if she squinted through the darkness, more on other homes nearby.
She'd unhooked the end of her ball chain from the connector and threaded it through Jack's ring, clasping it tightly again. She hadn't hesitated before fitting the chain over her head, letting it circle her neck. Her dog tags fell heavily to rest between her breasts, but the weight was welcome. To have something of him so intimately close to her while he was so, so far away felt right.
Logically, Sam knew that it was a sugar pill. A placebo. A crutch for a heart that felt hampered lately by a worry that she couldn't explain. But she'd worn his ring there ever since.
And would—until he was home.
—-OOOOOOOO—-
"Major Carter."
"General Hammond."
She'd found him in the briefing room, looking down on an active 'Gateroom. His expression changed as soon as she came to a halt next to him—softening into a perfect mixture of concern and compassion.
"I see that Walter tracked you down."
"I'm pretty sure he found me by accident." Sam gestured with the paper cup in her hand. "I had just gotten something to drink in the mess when he happened to run across me in the corridor."
"I was hoping he'd find you in your lab." Hammond frowned. "Although I suppose that, under the circumstances, no location would be more ideal than another."
Her heart tripped as she put the cup down on the briefing room table. Going to the mess had been a distraction, more than anything else. She hadn't needed a drink as much as she'd needed to leave her lab—leave her own headspace. Fill her mind with something other than the worst-case-scenarios she'd been imagining for the past few days. Jack—the team—missing. Captured. Cut off from the 'Gate. Hurt, broken, or lost. Dead.
As the hours had stretched long, she'd been able to think about little else. Even exploring the new theories she'd conjured up about the Ancient power cell hadn't done anything to expunge the apprehension which had taken root deep within her.
She'd known, hadn't she? As she'd watched her friends—her husband—walk up that ramp. She'd known that something adverse would happen during the course of the mission. A premonition? A hunch? Whatever—she'd felt it deep in her bones.
Still, she'd tried to stay confident. Keep things positive. Just as she tried to sound sanguine now. "I was coming down here, anyway, Sir. Just to check on things."
Neither of them needed to embellish that statement. They both knew that she'd been keeping a quiet vigil of her own. A few months ago, Sam would have parked herself in the Control Room and made a nuisance of herself—or at the very least tried to make herself useful. But things had changed. She wasn't sure she belonged here anymore. Not like before.
In the past, she'd always burned off nervous energy with work—found a task and buried herself in it—figuratively as well as literally. Spent every waking moment in her lab, or in the control room. Testing theories. Running simulations. Problem solving. It's how she'd brought Jack home so many months before, when he'd been stranded on Edora. How she'd helped bring them all home safely more times than she could count.
But things had changed. She couldn't simply disappear into the mountain for days on end. Someone else needed her, now.
Hammond seemed to sense the direction in which Sam's thoughts had turned. "I wanted to give you a head's up before you left for the day. I know you need to get home to your little boy."
She'd known it was coming, but for some reason, she needed to say the words. "It's official, isn't it Sir? They're too late for it to be insignificant."
"Four hours past due. We established a wormhole thirty minutes ago. Radioed on the mission frequency. Tried several others. There was no response."
Her throat was tight—when she spoke, it was almost painful. "Any luck getting images from the MALP?"
"Nothing. Not even a signal when we opened a wormhole two days ago. It's as if the MALP on that side has simply disappeared."
She hadn't been told that they'd tried earlier. And knowing about it now didn't make anything better. "It could be that they've come under fire. Moved the MALP to a safe place to use as a radio relay."
"If that were the case, I believe they would have answered our calls. Asked for back up."
True. Sam watched as a team worked at preparing the MALP on the floor of the 'Gateroom. They were attaching a better camera and adding antennas to achieve greater range for the radio. "When are you sending this one through?"
"As soon as possible."
Turning her wrist, Sam glanced at her watch. She needed to leave now to pick up Jake on time. She'd been planning to have Jack back on Earth tonight. Praying past the near-constant roiling in her gut that he'd march through that event horizon and be home in time to help put Jake to bed.
The team at Area 51 had taken the rest of this week and next off for the holiday. She'd told Francie that she wouldn't need childcare until after the New Year, intending to spend every minute as a family once Jack had 'Gated home. The ornaments and decorations were ready for the still uncut tree, and Sam had already wrapped the gifts she'd bought. Dinners for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were already planned and purchased. All she needed was her husband.
Focus, Sam.
"And if you don't get a response?"
"I've already authorized a rescue. SG-12 and SG-4 are standing by."
"I wish I could go too, Sir."
The General heaved out a deep breath, casting a look down towards his shiny shoes. "Honestly? I've been expecting to see you in this part of the SGC more often over the past few days. I can imagine that it's taken a great deal of self-discipline for you to maintain your distance."
There was really no point in denying that fact, so she didn't. "I constantly thought about coming down here, but I wasn't sure I'd be welcome, Sir. What with the changes in my position within this facility and everything."
Hammond's frown deepened. "Just between you and me, Major, I would prefer to still have you under my command rather than beholden to Torres and the other people at the Groom Lake facility. Your specialized skill set would be more than welcome at the moment, and I'm sure that your husband would like nothing more than to have you working on getting them home."
"Thank you, Sir."
"But the reality of the situation is that you aren't under my command. Nor are you authorized to work under the auspices of the SGC." Hammond smiled—a little sadly. "We don't know why SG-1 hasn't come home, nor why they've missed their scheduled contacts. And the hard reality of the situation is that there isn't a blessed thing that we can do for them until we have more information."
"I hope you know that I'll do whatever is necessary, General." She sounded stronger than she felt. "Regardless of permissions."
"I do, Major." He nodded. "And I hope you know that I'll take you up on that offer. But for now, you should go home to your little boy. Try to keep your mind off what's happening here."
Sam's hand rose, tracing the outline of Jack's ring under the softness of her t-shirt. "We both knew that this situation was a possibility."
"Military life when one spouse is active duty is difficult enough, Sam." Hammond's voice had grown softer—more familial. Fatherly. He shook his head, leaning closer to her. "But when both of you are in the service—and when there's a child involved—"
Sam listened as the General's voice fell quiet. She blinked rapidly, looking down at the floor, struggling for composure as she said words that were painful, but true. "Jake has to come first."
For the longest time, they both just stood there, quietly watching the crew working in the 'Gateroom below.
"I'd never experienced this side of things until I took this command, Major. Until I started watching people I cared very deeply about heading into the unknown." Hammond's sigh, his posture, made him seem suddenly older than he'd been just a few minutes before. His clear blue eyes took a measured inventory of Sam before he continued. "So, suffice it to say that I think I know how you're feeling. I've watched all of you leave through that 'Gate and always worried whether you'd return."
"Jack and I knew the risks, Sir. We've both been stuck off-world. Trapped or injured. Lost."
"I can't imagine that it's easier being on this side of the wormhole when your husband is on the other."
"Not really." She chuckled. A hysterical little sound, when all was said and done. "I'd rather be out there. At least then, I could be of some use to him."
"Well, I'm sure that the Colonel is glad that you're here taking care of that baby of yours." Hammond stepped closer to the window, gazing down on the activity in the 'Gateroom before looking back up at the Major. "Go home, Sam. Get ready for Christmas. Get things ready to celebrate when SG-1 gets home. I'll call you when and if anything happens."
"I would appreciate that, Sir."
Turning, she picked the empty cup up off the large briefing table, tossing it into the trash can as she headed for the door.
It didn't take her long to get out of the Mountain. She'd already shut down her lab before she'd run across Walter outside the mess hall. All she needed to do was grab her keys and backpack and head up topside to where the Excursion waited for her in the parking lot.
Home. Go home. Get in her vehicle and drive. Aim the SUV down the frontage road towards the freeway. Try to control the shaking of her hands, bite back the nausea that threatened, quell the pain searing through her.
Not think about how she'd finally gotten everything she'd wanted.
Or how she just might have already lost it.
