As the two days passed, Sam found herself a mix of nerves and excitement leading up to the moment she would pick up her new bike. True to his word, Jack had taken her on his bike and spent time in a vacant lot for lessons. Soon enough, Sam was confidently riding Jack's Road King solo, much to his relief. She turned out to be a natural on two wheels.
On the agreed-upon day, Pike called to notify her that the bike was ready. Anxious, Sam waited for Jack to return from the base to accompany her. While she could have taken a taxi, she wanted to share this experience with him—an unexpected change from the independent and elusive Samantha Carter of almost a year ago.
In the meantime, Major Paul Davis had sent her the official papers for her truck, the one she had left in Minnesota. Initially hesitant due to fake license plates, Davis assured her he would handle it. Now armed with the new legal documents, Sam only needed to obtain new license plates, marking a gradual return to the legal system.
Jack walked in as she examined the papers.
"Hi, ready to go pick up your bike?" he asked with a smile.
Sam, jumping up from the couch, replied, "Let's go," giving him a quick kiss before leaving.
Jack shook his head in amusement and closed the door.
They drove to Pike's dealership, and her bike awaited her as promised. Sam looked like a child in a candy store, inspecting it with a professional eye. While she did so, Jack and Pike exchanged words. Once satisfied, she requested a helmet and a jacket, swiftly choosing from the accessories department. Jack marveled at her efficiency, a departure from his more prolonged and painful experiences with Sara.
After signing paperwork, making payments, and leaving with her new bike, Sam rode ahead with Jack following behind. His heart raced significantly when she suddenly accelerated on the highway without warning. Jack had to push his limits to keep up, simultaneously cursing and praying she wouldn't crash.
When they arrived home, she was inspecting the bike again on his driveway. Jack, furious, slammed the truck door.
"What the fuck was that?" he asked, pointing to the distant highway behind their backs.
Sam looked surprised, "What?" she asked, hand on the bike seat.
"When you decided you're Batman and raced on the highway like a maniac!" he nearly yelled.
Blushing, she explained, "I was testing the bike."
Jack took a deep breath and passed both hands through his hair.
"And I'm not Batman," she added with a smirk. "At best, Batwoman."
Jack shot her a warning look.
"Sorry," she said, not sounding very apologetic.
Grabbing her helmet, he said, "You had fun, Doctor Carter. Let's put the bike in the garage."
She smiled at him, "Yes, Colonel," and began moving the bike.
She parked it next to his, noticing how well the bikes complemented each other, much like themselves.
Turning to Jack as he closed the garage, she innocently asked, "Now, Colonel, what are you going to cook me for dinner?"
Her hand moved to his back pocket. Jack sighed, smiling, and opened the door, "I think it's time you start learning how to cook, Doctor Carter," he said with a wink.
She playfully stuck her tongue out and began to unzip her new bike jacket, which she left lying on the hallway floor, and then her shirt, which appeared to be following the same destination. Jack, swallowing hard, quickly closed the door, realizing that maybe dinner could wait as well as her cooking lessons.
Jack continued his routine of returning to the base daily, resuming his role as the leader of SG-1. Meanwhile, Sam began to embrace activities she had avoided for years—shopping for clothes, entering bookstores, and simply enjoying coffee without constant vigilance. As days and weeks passed, she found herself more at ease with Jack in his home and within the community of Colorado Springs. The list seemed entirely forgotten by now.
Until one day.
Sam was engrossed in her bike maintenance when her phone buzzed, revealing Jack's number.
"Hello," she greeted, holding the phone carefully with slightly oil-stained hands.
Jack's voice came through in a hushed tone, "I can't talk much. We have an urgent assignment abroad and are leaving in a few minutes. I don't know when I'll be back."
In the background, Sam could hear the hurried deployment of personnel.
"Oh... Okay, stay…," she managed before he quickly said "bye," and the line went dead. "Safe," she whispered, staring at the silent phone.
She placed the phone on the floor and aimlessly continued working on her bike, but her thoughts were miles away from the Harley. After futile minutes, she dropped the tools, stood up, and left the garage. In the kitchen, she opened the fridge, opting for one of Jack's beers—after more than ten years without drinking alcohol. The unfamiliar taste lingered in her mouth as she swallowed, but it failed to drown out the tumult in her mind.
"Fuck," she cursed aloud, attempting to steady her racing thoughts.
Surveying her surroundings, she suddenly noticed that everything around her belonged to Jack—his kitchen, his apron hanging nearby, and his necessary cooking appliances. Her only item was a coffee mug from an impulsive shopping trip. Frustration surged within her.
"Shit," she muttered, kicking a chair aside before leaving the kitchen.
The realization hit hard. A single call about his departure had sent her questioning everything. She sat on the couch, closing her eyes in contemplation. Objectively, she acknowledged that she hadn't fully committed to living with him despite their time together. He had offered to pick up her belongings from Minnesota, but she consistently deferred. The Stargate, marriage—these topics had been conspicuously absent from their conversations.
Cautiously, she admitted that she hadn't revisited her mental checklist, stored in her cabin in Minnesota, with the same level of scrutiny. The columns remained unchanged, with no additions or exchanges. The realization unsettled her. With Jack gone and an indefinite return date, she saw this as an opportunity to confront her thoughts.
Seated on the couch, she reflected on her life and the decisions she had put off. It was time to stop evading herself; Carters weren't cowards. Jack was off-world, and Sam decided it was time to face her truth. Alone. Until she determined whether to include him in her contemplations. What once seemed right now begged reconsideration. It was time to find out.
An urgent rescue mission summoned SG-1 after SG-13, dispatched for trade negotiations, found themselves held captive and facing execution. General Hammond insisted on a diplomatic resolution and tasked SG-1, accompanied by SG-2, to secure the safe return of their comrades. Force was to be used only as a last resource. For two grueling days, Daniel attempted negotiations but with unsatisfactory results. Jack O'Neill, growing impatient, sought out a conversation with SG-2's team leader, Ferretti.
Walking far from the ongoing discussions, Jack voiced his concerns to Ferretti.
"I'm not liking this, Ferretti," he admitted.
Ferretti scratched his head in agreement.
"I'm with you, O'Neill, but Hammond wants us to talk. I believe we've exhausted that option. Give the word, and we can shift to more decisive action," he suggested in a subdued tone.
Jack sighed, acknowledging the delicate situation.
"We may have advanced technology and firepower, but they outnumber us. It's going to get messy," he warned.
Ferretti kicked a rock aside.
"War is never pretty, O'Neill," he remarked, capturing the harsh reality.
Jack couldn't dispute the undeniable truth.
In the shadows of uncertainty, SG-1 and SG-2 grappled with the imminent decision to transition from diplomacy to action. The weight of their superior technology against overwhelming numbers loomed over them.
He found Daniel still engaged in discussion and the weariness etched on his face. Jack gestured to him, who discreetly stepped away from his post to join Jack behind a nearby tree.
"Daniel, we're done talking. It's time for action," Jack whispered urgently.
Daniel nodded, understanding the unspoken decision.
"Be ready. We move tonight, and we'll get SG-13 out of there," Jack continued.
Daniel's expression shifted from exhaustion to determination.
"Got it," he replied hushedly, conveying his readiness to switch from diplomacy to action.
Daniel swiftly rejoined the meeting while Ferretti gathered SG-2, and Jack approached Teal'c.
"Teal'c, we're ending this crap and fighting our way out of here and taking SG-13 with us. Keep an eye on Daniel. We don't want him caught in the crossfire. Once we make our move, signal him to find cover," Jack instructed, his voice low but persistent.
Teal'c acknowledged with a nod, the intensity in his eyes revealing his commitment to the mission. As Jack moved away, he couldn't shake the reality of the impending conflict. The wooden structures, seemingly designed for giants, cast long shadows in the dim light.
Jack took a moment to reflect on the grim necessity of war as the teams assembled at the city's edge. He knew the upcoming engagement would be challenging, the odds not entirely in their favor. Yet, the mission to rescue SG-13 was paramount, and he steeled himself for the battle ahead.
Under the cover of darkness, SG-1 and SG-2 moved silently toward their target, their purpose clear – to free their comrades and complete the mission at any cost.
The rescue mission unfolded as a catastrophic nightmare. Despite the technological advantage of SG-1 and SG-2, the planet's resilient inhabitants proved to be fierce combatants, unyielding even in the face of death. The battle to liberate SG-13 became one of the most grueling experiences in Jack O'Neill's tenure with SG-1. The toll on the SG teams was devastating when they reached the Stargate and successfully dialed SGC. The casualties and injured soldiers were unusually high, and Jack caught up in the adrenaline-fueled chaos, remained oblivious to his injuries.
Upon arrival in the Gate Room, delivering the grim account to General Hammond, Jack's boots were stained with the blood of fallen comrades. It was then that he noticed his wounds. Despite the pain, he pressed on, conveying the dire outcome of the mission. General Hammond acknowledged the sacrifice with a heavy heart and instructed Jack to head to the infirmary immediately. Teal'c and Daniel, both nursing injuries of their own, ensured that Jack followed through.
Lying on a cold infirmary bed, Jack's mind lingered on the fallen SG team members who hadn't survived the relentless onslaught. General Hammond would be faced with the arduous task of drafting numerous condolence letters.
Dr. Janet Fraiser, SGC's Chief Medical Officer, approached Jack, examining the extent of his injuries. Jack let out a sigh, anticipating the imminent discomfort of medical procedures.
"So, what do we have here, Colonel?" Janet inquired as she assessed his condition.
Jack, bracing for the examination, replied, "I guess I got shot, doc."
Janet carefully cut away the blood-soaked uniform, confirming the presence of a bullet wound.
"Yes, you were. Surgery now," she directed one of the nurses.
Closing his eyes, Jack steeled himself for the upcoming medical intervention, a necessary but unwelcome part of the aftermath of a mission gone wrong.
Unaware of Jack's perilous mission and his subsequent return with injuries, Sam remained alone in her house, her thoughts a turbulent and sometimes scary sea. The solitude allowed her mind to wander to dark and dangerous corners, reminiscent of when she navigated those shadows as a fugitive from justice. Such places she had believed she left behind when she found Jack and her life seemed to embrace a semblance of normalcy. But normalcy and Samantha Carter were not concepts easily intertwined, not before and likely never.
Her father's words after her mother's death reverberated within her thoughts, emphasizing that destiny had marked her for greatness, steering her away from normalcy. The Academy had bestowed upon her the "Genius Ice Princess" title, a label that clung to her relentlessly, especially given her identity as General Carter's daughter. Unpopular and often in solitude, her academic pursuits had consistently defined her. Now, with Jack absent, she found solace in the familiarity of frozen TV dinners, a nostalgic return to the simplicity of her past as a fugitive, albeit within a new environment accompanied by a sense of added comfort.
Her cell phone interrupted the solitude as she ate, flashing General Hammond's number on the screen.
"Hello, Uncle George," she greeted between bites. His grave tone immediately raised alarms.
"Samantha, how are you?" he inquired.
Stopping mid-bite, Sam's concern heightened.
"What happened to Jack? Is he all right?" she asked anxiously.
"SG-1 is back, but things didn't go well. Jack was injured and is undergoing surgery right now," Hammond revealed slowly.
Sam's complexion paled.
"Surgery? How bad?" she asked, rising from her seat.
"A shot in his right shoulder. Not too severe, according to our CMO," Hammond reassured.
Sam swallowed hard.
"Can I see him?" she implored.
Hammond sighed.
"Unfortunately, no. You don't have clearance since you refused to work in the Stargate. I'm sorry, Samantha. I'll keep you updated," he conveyed.
Sam bit her lip.
"Okay, thank you," she replied, hanging up.
Her frustration and anger surged, and she hurled the phone against the couch.
"FUCK!" she shouted, the intensity of her emotions escalating.
The resentment and hatred toward the Air Force soared, reaching heights comparable to the Egyptian pyramids and threatening to climb even higher. Collapsing to the floor, silent tears streamed down her face.
After the surgery, Jack awoke to the frustrating news that Sam couldn't visit him. Despite the wires and bandages restricting his movements, he attempted to leave the bed. Only the stern demeanor and explicit warnings from Doctor Janet Fraiser managed to rein him in, silencing his protests and coaxing him back onto the bed. However, his loud objections reverberated within the infirmary and spilled into the hallway, making their presence known even further.
Jack's furious outbursts drew the attention of Doctor Fraiser, who, unfamiliar with Sam, found herself perplexed by the disruption caused by Colonel O'Neill, who usually only complained about her needles. Determined to restore order, she decided to approach General Hammond. Finding him in his office, she entered with a polite apology.
"Sorry to bother you, Sir," she began.
Hammond paused from signing requisitions and looked at his Chief Medical Officer with a patient smile.
"How can I help, Doctor Fraiser?" he inquired.
With a heavy sigh, she voiced her concern.
"Who is this Sam that Colonel O'Neill keeps calling? He's causing havoc in my infirmary, Sir. I can't handle it anymore, and it's driving me and my staff nuts," she explained.
Hammond sighed in response, explaining, "Her name is Doctor Samantha Carter, and she's living with Colonel O'Neill. She's also someone we've been eager to have working at the SGC and the Stargate," he added, leaning back in his chair.
Janet's eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh, is that so? Why?" she inquired, curious.
Hammond provided a vague response, "Let's say she is very, very smart and could be a great help to us," avoiding delving into specifics.
Arms crossed, Janet pressed for more information.
"But she doesn't want to?" she asked.
"No. Until now, she declined," Hammond admitted.
Intrigued, Janet asked, "But is she aware of the Stargate, Sir?"
Hammond nodded.
"And even so, she said no?" Janet asked, blinking in disbelief.
Hammond nodded once again.
"She doesn't seem very smart to me, Sir," Janet remarked.
Suppressing a smile, Hammond clarified, "But she is, Doctor. Quite the genius, but she had some personal problems over the past years."
Janet's eyebrows raised again, finding the story increasingly mysterious. She decided it was time to have a conversation with Colonel Jack O'Neill. In a warning tone, she informed Hammond of the escalating situation.
"Well, Sir, Colonel O'Neill insists he wants to see her. I've run out of ways to shut him up. Next is sedation. Your call," she asserted.
Hammond sighed heavily.
"I'll talk with him," he conceded, rising from his chair.
With a satisfied smile, Janet knew she could make compelling arguments when needed. Despite her petite stature, no one dared to mess with Doctor Janet Fraiser. Meeting Doctor Samantha Carter seemed intriguing, as she had already proven to be quite the character.
When Hammond entered the infirmary, Jack sat on the bed, his face etched with fury.
"Colonel, I believe you've been causing some problems for Doctor Fraiser and her staff," Hammond admonished in a stern tone. Janet stood silently behind him as Jack showed no signs of remorse.
"Why can't Sam visit me, Sir?" Jack demanded.
Hammond cleared his throat.
"Doctor Carter doesn't have clearance to enter the Mountain, as you know. She declined our offer to work on the Stargate," he explained.
Jack gritted his teeth.
"Well, now she won't work on it for sure," he retorted.
Hammond acknowledged the point but remained resolute.
"When will he be released, Doctor?" Hammond asked, turning to Janet.
Consulting Jack's chart, Janet replied, "He has to stay in the infirmary for at least a couple more days, Sir. He's on antibiotics, and there's a risk of infection. If he has no fever, I can release him if he has someone to care for him at home," she added slowly.
"I do," Jack asserted promptly.
Both Hammond and Janet exchanged glances.
"Let him stay until you know it's safe to release him, and then he can go home. Please behave, Colonel. I'll inform Doctor Carter that you'll be home in a couple of days," Hammond instructed before leaving the infirmary.
Sulking, Jack pulled the blanket almost up to his eyes, and Janet couldn't help but fight back a laugh.
"So, Colonel, who is this mysterious Doctor Samantha Carter? What field is she a doctor of?" Janet inquired.
Jack mumbled something under the blanket.
"Sorry, didn't catch it," Janet prompted.
"Astrophysics," Jack repeated.
Janet looked at him, surprised. "Really?" she said, genuinely impressed.
"And a bunch of other things. She's a genius," he added proudly.
Janet could sense the adoration in his eyes. Well, well, Colonel Jack O'Neill was in love.
"Must be a fascinating woman," Janet remarked, placing his chart down. Jack smiled.
"Oh, you have no idea," he replied dreamily.
Janet chuckled and left him alone with his thoughts.