"Very well, I'll tell you what I've found out. It's all I can do. Nobody will talk to you about this, so you must take my word. I was working for your father, after all. He was the one who had me digging into this as soon as he could," Davis said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
The room fell silent as everyone awaited Major Paul Davis's explanations. He cleared his throat again and, taking a deep breath, looked Sam in the eye.
"As you know, at the time of your engagement, Major General Jacob Carter was offered the position of Military Deputy in the Office of the Assistant Secretary of the Air Force for Space Acquisition and Integration. It was a highly sought-after position within the Pentagon; the budget is always very generous, and the person who gets it is responsible for supporting the Assistant Secretary in managing and overseeing space acquisition and integration programs within the United States Air Force. For reasons I can explain later, it is an influential role," Paul Davis explained, choosing his words carefully.
Sam listened intently. She was aware of the job offer and her father's consideration but knew that things went awry with Hanson.
"What happened?" she inquired.
Paul Davis sighed deeply.
"Your father had many adversaries within the Pentagon—much envy. Individuals who coveted that position and were willing to do whatever it took to prevent him from securing it," Davis said somberly.
Sam bit her lip.
"So, they used me?" she asked.
Paul Davis nodded.
"You were his vulnerability. Your brother was beyond the Air Force's reach, a millionaire and independent. But you were in the military with a promising career ahead. Your father was well aware of it," he explained.
Hammond covered his mouth, shocked by what he was hearing. The organization he dedicated his life and career to seemed capable of using such tactics to secure just a position. Jack clenched his jaw, feeling the familiar frustration of witnessing the system's flaws. Over and over again.
"Continue," Sam urged, attempting to process the overwhelming information.
Paul Davis nervously toyed with the pen in his hand.
"That's what I could uncover. Eventually, after they learned that your fiancé was dead and you were implicated in his shooting, they acted. Your father was informed that the Air Force intended to charge you with his murder, and you would be found guilty. He decided to step aside and declined the position, but they wanted him far away from any influential role at the Pentagon or the White House, where he had significant support. That support vanished suddenly. He was left hanging," Davis revealed, avoiding eye contact with Sam.
Hammond lowered his head, too ashamed to make eye contact, and Jack felt an impulse to vent his frustration, with Paul Davis included. Sam, however, was too heartbroken to respond, her gaze fixed on the Major seated at the table.
"I'm truly sorry, Doctor Carter," Davis expressed sincerely.
"Fine, I've got my answers. US Air Force at their finest! Whatever," she said, picking up the paper and signing it before anyone could say or do anything.
Jack looked at her, startled. After everything she had heard, she wouldn't put up a fight and go after those bastards?
Surprised, Davis collected the paper again and put it inside the briefcase.
"Now that it is cleared, let me first give you your updated driver's license, passport, and social security card. As for your Military ID, we hold on until we have a more defined situation".
Sam silently collected the several documents, and Paul Davis cleared his throat.
"Moving on, I'm authorized to discuss another matter. One that everyone in this room is already aware of. The Stargate," he said.
Jack and Hammond looked at each other at the same time.
"What?" they asked in unison, but Sam looked unimpressed. The matter that had brought her to Washington was settled and closed for her. She just wanted to leave as fast as possible.
"I gathered that is the real name of Deep Space Telemetry?" she asked with little interest.
Jack swallowed. What the hell was going on?
"Before this discussion continues, you have to sign an NDA, Doctor Carter," he said, giving her another paper.
Sam didn't move.
"What if I don't want this discussion?" she asked in a clear, annoyed tone.
Paul Davis looked at General Hammond and then to Jack. He also noticed the black eye, but the Colonel was the leader of SG-1, and they went through a lot. He decided to ignore it.
"Then you are free to go, and we are done," he said.
Sighing, Sam picked up the paper and signed it without bothering to read it. She might as well find out about that stupid, obvious cover story now that she was here. And then they might leave her alone for good.
Davis collected the paper again and put it inside the briefcase.
"Well, Doctor Carter, as you said, Deep Space Telemetry is a bogus story used by the Air Force. Inside Cheyenne Mountain, we have a top-secret project that involves alien technology. It's called the Stargate and allows us to travel to other planets. For now, this information has to be enough. If you decide to remain in the Air Force, you'll be supplied with the full story and see it yourself. As General Hammond said, your rank will be updated to Major following some evaluations, and I have total faith that you'll pass with flying colors. The Air Force will fully support all benefits from the time this unfortunate incident of yours happened. You'll be stationed at Cheyenne Mountain under General Hammond's orders," Davis explained.
Sam paled.
"You want me back in the Air Force? The same Air Force that was responsible for my father's death and had me on the run for over ten years? For some mumbo jumbo alien crap?" she asked, almost yelling, her hands tightly grabbing the desk.
The room fell silent. Hammond was the first to speak.
"We all understand your anger, Samantha, and you have my total sympathy. What we heard here today was appalling, but please consider this offer carefully. What Major Paul Davis said about this Stargate is real. We are discussing an alien technology allowing a few select of us to go to other planets. Earth's destiny depends on it, however dramatically this may sound. It is remarkable, and your expertise would be precious," he said.
Sam looked at him in silence, but her eyes conveyed her fury.
"When does she have to answer?" Jack asked.
Paul Davis cleared his throat.
"The Air Force is expecting an answer in one week. No more, no less," he said.
Sam got up.
"Fine, I'll give them my answer by then. Can I go now?" she asked.
The other men also got up.
"Yes, of course," Davis said with an embarrassed expression.
Hurridly, she left the room, not waiting for any of them. Hammond gave a head nod to Jack, who quickly followed her.
Paul Davis sighed heavily. "I'm not sure she'll accept," he said, picking up his briefcase.
Hammond picked up his hat.
"Some heads up would have been nice, Paul," he said, annoyed.
Davis lowered his head. "I'm very sorry, Sir, but I couldn't disclose the offer until now. To no one," he said.
Hammond puffed, and both men exited the room.
Sam and Jack were nowhere to be found initially. Eventually, they were located outside, where he seemed to be trying to talk to her, and she, with her arms crossed, was pointedly ignoring him. Jack had already donned his trusty sunglasses. The goodbyes were brief and lacking warmth. The drive back to the airfield was silent, mirroring the entire flight back to Colorado Springs. Sam staunchly resisted any attempts at conversation.
As the plane touched down, it became clear that Sam was in no mood for any more talks. She requested to be excused and be left alone to think. During her conversation with General Hammond on the plane on their way to D.C., whom she now refused to call Uncle George, she hadn't disclosed that she was staying at Colonel O'Neill's house or how they had met. The story had been that he had tracked her to Georgia, not revealing the exact location, and that she was now staying at a hotel in the Springs. Jack had booked a room in her name in case it would be needed. She seriously considered going to the hotel instead of staying at his house.
As soon as they were alone in the car, Jack picked her hand after Hammond left for the base.
"I didn't know about this or the offer, Sam. Please believe me," he said.
She continued to look out of the window. The car eventually stopped at his house, and they left, but he noticed her reluctance to enter.
"Do you want to go to the hotel? I can drive you," he offered with a tight heart.
Sam bit her lip but shook her head.
"No, we need to talk, and I can't do that if I stay in the hotel," she said, entering his house.
As soon as he closed the door, she had him against his front door, slowly removing his sunglasses. His black eye stood out unashamedly.
"Aliens? Seriously, Jack?" she asked, both eyebrows lifted.
He didn't offer resistance. Instead, he put his hands on her waist.
"Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but it is true. We travel to other planets," he said calmly.
She gave him a suspicious look.
"How?" she asked.
Jack swallowed. That part was always complicated for him.
"Ah, that... well, they tried to explain it to me with an apple. It has to do with dialing between two Stargates to establish a connection. Then, there must be a stable wormhole or something like that. If you have an apple, then..." Jack looked at her with a face of total confusion, and she could see he had no idea what he was talking about.
"Wormhole?" she asked curiously. She had a PhD in astrophysics and studied the theoretical possibility of wormholes. Now, he was telling her they were real.
He nodded, enjoying her body firmly pressed against his.
"It passes through the apple," he said with another smile.
Despite everything, Sam tried not to laugh.
"Really?" she asked as his fingers moved to her back.
"Yeah, we are disassembled in between and reassembled when we get to the other side," he explained the best to his recollection. Daniel should explain this much better.
Sam was starting to get intrigued.
"And you do this often?" she asked, her arm still pressed against his throat. If he wanted to get free, he would quickly. Apparently, he didn't. His hands continued too busy playing with her back, giving her goosebumps.
"Well, it's classified, but if you promise not to tell anyone..." he said.
Sam shook her head.
"It's our job. We have teams to go off-world. I'm SG-1. The flag team," he said with a proud smile.
"The flag team?" she repeated.
He nodded, still smiling. She looked at his lips while biting her lower lip. His gaze heated as his eyes trailed to her lips, then lower. His height put her off every time. Maybe because there weren't many men she had met taller than her. Sam's breath quickened as her fingers' feathers touched his bruised face, regretting damaging such a handsome face. The fingers stopped on his hair, holding it.
"And have you found many aliens?" she asked slowly.
Jack swallowed. She had changed her interrogation techniques a lot.
"Sorry, classified," he said, still smiling.
She decided on another approach and finally claimed his mouth so slowly and thoroughly that his head swam with passion. When they broke apart, he held her gaze, breathing ragged.
"Still classified, but you can continue," he said smugly.
He parted his lips for her when her mouth captured his in a much too short kiss for his liking. She sighed and placed her forehead against his.
"We aren't getting anywhere, Jack," she said, almost disappointed.
He raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, I think we are doing just fine," he said, still holding her back and feeling her warm skin.
When she attempted to let him go, his hands pressed her waist tightly.
"Ask me another thing," he said, trying to prevent her from leaving.
She gave him a suspicious look.
"Come on, ask," he said again.
She fisted her hand in his hair harder, almost painfully. He actually liked it.
"What are your mission goals?" she asked, pressing her body against his. Harder.
He groaned. This was by far the most pleasurable interrogation technique he had endured. If she were naked, he would tell her everything, even his bank account number, although there was hardly much money there. But he would—everything she wanted.
"We are explorers mainly," he said in a hoarse voice.
"But?" she asked, sensing he wasn't telling her everything.
Jack tried to kiss her, but she deflected her face, and he ended up kissing her neck.
"You have to ask Major Paul Davis," he said, licking her earlobe.
Sam's brain almost short-circuited with the sensations. They had never been this far in their making out, and things were getting out of control fast. His obvious erection brushed against her abdomen, making her suppress a moan.
"Okay, maybe we need to stop," she said, releasing him and stepping back.
Disappointment filled his eyes as he tried to adjust his pants. Quite the impossible task now. Sam blushed and turned around, giving him time.
"That is an evil thing to do, Doctor Carter. Leave a man hanging like this," he said, placing his jacket before his obvious predicament.
She suppressed a smile.
"I haven't done anything," she said, still turning her back to him.
"Exactly," Jack whispered, catching her off guard. "This discussion isn't over," he warned.
And then he left the hallway and went to his room to change. She chuckled and took a deep breath.
"Aliens? Really?" she said aloud as she went to her room.
But he had spoken about wormholes, and the stability and practicality of wormholes for various purposes, such as interstellar travel or time travel, continued to be active areas of research and speculation in her field of study. Astrophysicists like her still explore the implications of wormholes within the context of general relativity and attempt to understand whether they could exist in our universe. He had told her they had a functioning wormhole in the base that allowed them to travel to other planets. That would revolutionize everything!
Sam lay on her bed, the soft comforter providing a familiar refuge for her restless thoughts. Her mind was in turmoil, torn between everything Major Paul Davis had revealed about the blackmail her father had suffered, but that had sadly ended, and a new possibility that now appeared in her life. She was also torn between the scientist who had primarily lain dormant for the past ten years and the woman who had left behind dreams of becoming an astronaut to live off the grid in a secluded cabin.
The dormant scientist within her yearned to unravel the mysteries of the Stargate, to delve into the unknown and explore the possibilities it held. The allure of discovery and the pursuit of knowledge tugged at her, awakening the intellectual curiosity that defined her. However, intertwined with this scientific curiosity was a deep-seated resentment towards the Air Force, the institution that harbored the secret Stargate. The betrayal of having to flee her home and the missed opportunity to see her father one last time fueled a profound hatred. The scars of the past were too raw, too painful, and she wasn't sure if she could compromise with an organization that had deliberately taken so much away from her.
Closing her eyes, Sam couldn't help but reminisce about her secluded cabin. Despite all the luxuries that came with Jack's house, she missed the simplicity and solitude of her hideaway. The dichotomy between the quiet, peaceful life she had left behind and the chaotic world of extraterrestrial secrets weighed heavily on her.
Thoughts of Colonel Jack O'Neill lingered, a complicated figure in her life. Her resentment for the Air Force suddenly paled compared to her unresolved feelings for Jack. As she contemplated the tangled mess of emotions, she sighed heavily. It was a subject that demanded her attention, perhaps even more than the mysteries of Stargates and aliens. The name alone brought a mix of emotions—longing, arousal, frustration, and a sense of unfinished business.
Sam hid her face behind the pillow with a wry smile, acknowledging that dealing with Colonel Jack O'Neill was the next item on her list. The complexities of human relationships eclipsed even the enigmatic realms of extraterrestrial exploration.
Meeting once again for dinner, Sam couldn't help but notice the recurring theme in their interactions – meals. It dawned on her that their discussions always involved some culinary affair. It all began with his lunch invitation in the forest, an offer she initially declined. However, from that point forward, their connection had evolved, and now, whenever they conversed, a meal seemed to be an integral part of the equation.
This pattern struck Sam as oddly disconcerting. Food had always been a lower priority in her life, a mere necessity rather than a focal point. Yet, here she was, entangled in a web of conversations where meals played a consistent role. The realization added a layer of complexity to their dynamic, making her ponder the significance of these shared dining experiences. As she sat across from him, she couldn't shake the feeling that their connection was intricately woven into the fabric of these shared meals, creating a unique and somewhat unexpected bond.
Upon returning from Washington D.C. and the fascinating interrogation in his hallway, Jack took it upon himself to prepare a light dinner for both of them. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as he set the table, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting a warm ambiance. Jack's culinary efforts were simple yet thoughtful, reflecting his easygoing demeanor.
He skillfully chopped a medley of vegetables, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board creating a soothing backdrop. The sizzle of olive oil in a pan soon followed as he expertly sautéed the vegetables, filling the air with the enticing fragrance of herbs and spices. A pot of pasta boiled on the stove, its savory scent mingling with the other aromas in the room.
"You really like to cook, don't you?" she asked as she watched him move confidently around the kitchen, his movements speaking of familiarity and comfort.
He checked on the pasta, ensuring it reached the perfect al dente texture, and then effortlessly tossed it with the flavorful vegetables.
"Yeah, it relaxes me," he admitted as the clinking of plates being set on the table echoed in the air, and he completed the ensemble with a flourish by drizzling a light vinaigrette over the dish.
"What else relaxes you?" she asked curiously.
The atmosphere was laid-back, with the subdued lighting and the tempting smells creating an intimate setting. Jack, with a satisfied grin, gestured for Sam to help herself. The table was now adorned with a colorful and delicious display, a testament to Jack's ability to turn a simple meal into a delightful experience.
A prolonged gaze passed between them as Jack delved into his pasta.
"Fishing in my cabin, keeping an eye on my neighbors..." he began, a playful smile gracing his face.
Sam, savoring the flavors of the delicious meal, couldn't help but appreciate Jack's culinary skills, realizing that if she wasn't careful with her workouts, his cooking might lead to some unwanted weight gain.
"I'm serious," she asserted.
Jack reclined in his chair, a nonchalant expression on his face. Before coming to the kitchen, he had put some ice on his black eye, which helped. The bruise wasn't so bad looking.
"I'm being serious. I'm a simple guy. I enjoy fishing – my granddad taught me. As you know, there's a telescope on my roof, and I like to watch The Simpsons," he shared.
Sam raised an eyebrow, seeking clarification.
"The Simpsons?" she inquired.
Jack, ever the enthusiast, clarified, "Yes, those yellow cartoons you saw me watching the other day."
"Oh, that thing," she replied, resuming her meal.
Jack pulled an indignant face.
"Hey, they're one of the most important cartoons in American culture," he defended.
Suppressing a laugh, Sam admitted, "I haven't watched TV for several years, Jack," avoiding his gaze.
Jack shot her a suspicious look, quickly diverting his attention to his plate and chewing on some vegetables.
"Don't worry, I have all of them on DVD. Have you considered Paul Davis's proposal?" he asked, changing topics as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Sam sighed, setting her fork down.
"Yes," she replied, wiping her lips.
With anticipation, Jack swallowed his food and fixed his gaze on her.
"And? So? Therefore?" he pressed, clearly anxious.
Sam took a deep breath.
"I'm not returning to the Air Force," she stated, meeting his eyes.
He held his breath momentarily, then exhaled.
"I see," he said, his expression blank.
She folded her arms, studying his face intently.
"Disappointed?" she inquired.
Jack cleared his throat, a mix of emotions playing on his features.
"Yes and no," he admitted with sincerity.
Confusion flickered across her face. "What does that mean?" she pressed.
Rising from his chair, Jack suggested, "Do you want coffee?"
"Sure," she replied.
Jack headed towards his coffee machine.
"Okay, let's have some coffee in the living room and discuss this further. I think you need to know more about the Stargate before making a final decision. I don't care what Major Paul Davis or the Air Force thinks," he asserted.
Sam looked at him, surprised yet willing to accept his offer.
Once the coffee was ready, they settled into the comfort of his living room. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee as they delved into a conversation that would shed more light on the intricacies of the Stargate, Jack's genuine concern evident in their discussion.