As soon as Jack entered the offices of Homeworld, he noticed the whispers that abruptly ceased as his staff caught sight of him. Upon reaching his office, he paused next to his secretary, Martina.
"Morning, Martina. What's the problem?" he inquired as she handed him a pile of papers.
"Morning, General," Martina replied, her cheeks slightly flushed.
"So?" Jack prompted her for an explanation once more.
"Well, General, you know how Major Hudson from Comms is usually one of the first to arrive after the night staff?" Martina began, her words coming out quickly.
Jack nodded in response.
"Not today. Colonel Carter was already here when he arrived. The word spread out," Martina explained.
Jack sighed audibly. So, she was reverting to her old habits. "Tell Major Hudson to report to me with her log-in hours ASAP," he instructed before entering his office.
Martina sighed and called Hudson, who arrived in Jack's office minutes later. Jack scrutinized the paper with a dark expression, dismissed his communications officer, and ran a hand over his face. If she fell back into this pattern, she'd end up as Grace feared, and then he'd have a delicate situation. Grace was right. Sam had no one to take care of her, and Jack would never allow anything to happen to her, even if she weren't his wife. He picked up his phone and instructed his secretary to summon Colonel Carter to his office immediately.
Meanwhile, Sam was examining her requested test results when her phone rang.
"Colonel Carter," she answered, hearing Jack's secretary's instructions. After confirming that she would be right there, Sam hung up and would have crumpled the papers she held in her hand if she weren't in a glass office. Instead, she straightened her dress blues and headed to Jack's office.
Upon arrival, the secretary motioned for her to enter. Sam opened the door and paused, her gaze searching the room for Jack. She spotted him by the window, standing with his hands behind his back.
"Get in, Carter," he ordered, his tone cold.
Sam closed the door behind her and stood almost at attention.
"Could you please explain when you arrived at work today, Colonel?" Jack inquired, still looking out the window.
Sam swallowed nervously.
"I didn't check the time, Sir. But I'm sure it's registered," she replied, her voice steady.
Jack rolled his eyes. "0349," he stated flatly.
"I'm sure it's accurate," Sam replied, smiling.
Jack turned around just in time to catch her smiling.
"Oh no, you are not smiling at me, Carter," he warned sternly.
Sam's smile vanished.
"Have you found the answer to what I've asked you to do? Is that why you need to be so early in your office?" Jack asked, pacing in front of her. "To submit your final report?"
Sam instinctively stepped back, but Jack shot her a cold stare.
"Don't move a muscle, Carter. And that's an order," he commanded, causing Sam to freeze in place. "And I'm waiting for your answer, Colonel," Jack said, resuming his pacing.
Sam glanced at his desk.
"I just decided to work earlier, Sir," she replied tentatively.
"Earlier? At 0400?" Jack questioned, raising an eyebrow.
Sam swallowed hard.
"I couldn't sleep, okay? So, there was no point in staying home," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration.
Jack ceased his pacing. "Why?" he inquired, looking directly at her.
"That's none of your business," Sam snapped before hastily adding a respectful "Sir" to mitigate her tone. But the damage was already done.
"Pardon me?" Jack's tone was incredulous as he stepped closer to her.
Realizing her mistake, Sam bit her lip, and Jack cursed inwardly.
"With all due respect, Sir, why I couldn't sleep is not your concern," she stated firmly.
"I have to disagree, Colonel. Because if you drop like a log on the floor from exhaustion, I'll have my daughter drilling my head non-stop," Jack retorted, inadvertently revealing more than he intended.
Sam's eyes widened in surprise.
"What? What does Grace have to do with this?" she asked, her confusion evident.
Jack immediately regretted his slip-up.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath.
"Answer me," Sam demanded, her frustration mounting.
Jack's expression hardened.
"Carter," he warned, but Sam was too agitated to care about ranks.
"You mentioned Grace. Answer me," she pressed, her tone insistent.
Jack's face darkened. "I think you're forgetting who you're addressing, Colonel," he replied coldly, attempting to regain control of the situation.
But Sam was undeterred.
"Damn it, Jack. You started it," she exclaimed, her frustration boiling after a sleepless night. She wasn't in her best frame of mind.
Jack raised both eyebrows, surprised by her outburst.
"I'll warn you again, Colonel," he cautioned, but Sam hardly listened.
"Why did you say that about Grace?" she persisted, her determination unwavering.
Frustrated, Jack grabbed her arm tightly, finally causing Sam to come to her senses. They stood in his office, locked in a silent standoff until Sam was the first to break eye contact.
"I'm sorry, Sir," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jack released her arm, his frustration palpable.
"I'll let this pass because you're new here, but I don't want to see you off-hours again, Carter. Ever. And go to lunch!" he ordered, his frustration evident in every word.
Sam swallowed hard, feeling like she wanted to disappear. To another galaxy!
"Yes, Sir," she replied quietly, still unable to meet his gaze.
Feeling a mixture of emotions, Jack felt the overwhelming desire to snap and hug her simultaneously. Opting for a quick exit, he turned his back on her.
"Dismissed," he said curtly before Sam left his office without another word, quietly closing the door behind her.
Watching her swift departure, Martina couldn't help but mutter to herself, "Oh dear," as she observed Colonel Carter's distressed expression.
Sam entered her office and closed the door behind her, though it provided little solace. She felt exposed, like a fish in an aquarium, on display for all to see. Taking a seat at her desk, she lowered her head and discreetly wiped away the tears threatening to fall. She knew she should compose herself, but the emotional turmoil was overwhelming.
Instead of heading to the bathrooms, which would have been too conspicuous, she resolved to gather her thoughts and regain her composure in her office. It was proving to be a challenging task.
Sam attempted to redirect her focus to her work with a deep breath. However, her mind wandered back to thoughts of the daughter she had never met but who seemed to worry about her well-being. It was a perplexing notion. The other Samantha had a daughter, and the girl appeared equally curious about her. The realization both intrigued and unsettled Sam.
After an eternity, Sam finally raised her head, determined to dive back into her work. However, her thoughts persisted in drifting back to the image of the blonde girl in Jack's office. It was shaping up to be a difficult day.
In his office, Jack struggled to concentrate. Restlessness gnawed at him, making it difficult to remain seated. Every fiber of his being urged him to check on Carter to ensure she was alright. When she inquired about Grace, her worried expression lingered in his mind, a constant reminder of his growing unease.
Yet, Jack hesitated. Fear gripped him tightly, paralyzing his resolve. He feared the repercussions of allowing this alternate version of Sam into their lives. He feared for Grace, dreading her getting hurt if things went awry. Most of all, he feared the potential pain and turmoil that their rekindled connection could bring. The mere thought of hurting her or being hurt himself was unbearable.
Closing his eyes, Jack attempted to devise a strategy to navigate this intricate web of emotions and uncertainties. It would be so much simpler if she were here with him if she hadn't died. How he wished he wasn't facing this alone.
Yet, amid the turmoil, a glimmer of determination flickered within him. He knew he couldn't delay much longer despite the fear and uncertainty. The longer they danced around the issue, the greater the risk of someone getting hurt. It was time to confront the complexities head-on, no matter the outcome.
Another week passed with Jack attempting to change Grace's mind, but his efforts yielded no success. Instead, he was met with a sulking daughter who adamantly refused to engage in conversation until he resolved the situation to her satisfaction. She dared to give him an ultimatum.
"I want to see and talk with this Samantha Carter, Daddy, or I'll enter a silence strike. You have two days to answer me," she declared before storming off to her room, leaving Jack bewildered in the living room.
He stood there, mouth slightly agape, grappling with the unexpected turn of events. What was he going to do now? He glanced at a picture of Sam.
"Your daughter is ten, for crying out loud, and already giving me an ultimatum! It's your damn Carter genes," he muttered aloud, half-jokingly, half-frustrated.
With a heavy sigh, Jack headed to the bar and poured himself a generous amount of bourbon, which he downed almost like a shot, seeking solace in the burn of the liquor.
Eventually, Jack gave in. He had to. So, he told Grace he would speak with Samantha Carter and see what could be arranged. But he cautioned Grace to be prepared for the possibility that this Samantha might not want to meet her. Grace nodded solemnly and told him she would be waiting.
Jack decided to wait until the end of the day to visit Carter's office. They hadn't spoken since the outburst in his office. He had been discreetly monitoring her working hours, and she had been complying, arriving and leaving at more or less decent hours. Whenever he could, he passed by her office at lunch hour to see if she was there, and he had only caught her there once, with a sandwich on her desk. They hadn't spoken.
As most of the staff had already left for the day, Jack found himself at her door.
"Still working, Colonel?" he asked, his tone light.
Sam was putting away some files when she heard him. She slowly rose and turned around, avoiding eye contact.
"I'll leave shortly, Sir," she said softly, focusing on her task.
Jack furrowed his brow. "Your 'shortly' seems highly extendable," he remarked.
Sam clenched her jaw.
"Yes, Sir," she replied, shutting down her computer.
"Anyway, I need to talk to you," Jack said, clearing his throat.
Sam closed her eyes briefly. She didn't want to talk to him; she wanted to keep her distance. This felt like a bad idea, and Sam was starting to regret choosing Washington D.C. and Homeworld as her assignment. There was a reason she and Jack had stayed apart in her reality, and she had been foolish to think she could change that in this reality. She wasn't the other Samantha Carter, and he didn't love her, nor would he ever. Only heartache awaited her here, and working with him daily was becoming an unpleasant and painful reminder.
"Are you going home?" Jack asked, noticing her stillness as she held her purse.
"Yes," Sam replied, her back still turned to him.
"I can give you a ride, and we can talk on the way," he offered, not wanting to discuss such a delicate matter in the office.
Sama clenched her jaw even more.
"Can't it wait until tomorrow, Sir?" she asked, still not facing him.
Jack crossed his arms, perplexed.
"Why? Do you have a hot date?" he teased.
Sam slowly turned to look at him, and Jack noticed the dark circles under her eyes.
"I could say it's none of your business, but then again, we'll end up in another power struggle, so there's no point. Sir," she added icily.
Jack swallowed. "You're not sleeping properly," he observed.
Sam took two steps toward him, stopping inches away.
"Now, that is definitely none of your business," she retorted, her eyes flashing angrily.
Jack doubted whether he could talk to her while she was this angry with him, but he had promised his daughter.
"Okay, you're angry with me. But what I want to talk about has nothing to do with what happened before, Carter. It has to do with Grace," he said slowly.
Sam paled. "What?" she asked, her voice tinged with apprehension.
Jack glanced around to ensure they were alone.
"I really don't want to have this discussion here," he said quietly.
Sam swallowed hard.
"Okay," she agreed. "But I need to grab some coffee before we talk. I'm too tired," she admitted.
Jack looked at her with a warning look.
"Don't..." she said and left the office.
He followed her, and they left in his car. Sam provided her address, then closed her eyes as he navigated through the D.C. traffic.
Jack parked his car in front of a condominium on a picturesque, tree-lined street. Sam opened her eyes, realizing they had arrived.
"Yeah, it's here," she said, opening the door and stepping out.
Jack followed suit, observing the two-level apartment with its hardwood floors.
Sam was already in the kitchen, standing in front of a sleek stainless steel coffee machine that looked nothing like the usual models Jack was familiar with. Yet, she handled it almost professionally, producing a cup of coffee that surpassed anything he had tasted.
"Thanks," he said, appreciating the rich flavor as he sipped.
She sipped her coffee, watching him intently.
"This is good stuff," he remarked, setting down his cup.
She stared at him, waiting, and Jack sighed, taking in the modern appliances and granite countertops. The kitchen's pristine condition didn't surprise him; it seemed consistent with Sam's meticulous nature and her avoidance of culinary adventures.
"Okay, so here it goes. My daughter wants to meet you," Jack said, his hands resting on the kitchen island.
Sam placed her mug on the counter. "Why?" she asked, her voice steady.
Jack cleared his throat, feeling the weight of the conversation.
"Grace is very bright for her age. She's ten, Carter genes. She understands the alternate reality stuff. Sam explained that to her before... You know," he said, stumbling over his words. "I think she's curious. And she misses her Mom," Jack added, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sam swallowed hard.
"I'm not her mother," she stated, the truth heavy in her words.
Jack felt a pang in his heart.
"I know that very well, and Grace also knows that. Well, she says that you are the alternate version of her mother. We conflict there," he admitted, his gaze drifting to the floor.
"Interesting," Sam remarked, her tone unreadable.
Jack straightened up, looking down at his polished shoes.
"Look, I know this isn't easy for you, and I understand if you don't want to see her... I just had to try," he said, his words laced with vulnerability.
Sam crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering.
"Do you want me to see her?" she asked, her eyes locking with his.
Jack lifted an eyebrow, taken aback by the question.
"Me?" he asked, surprised by the sudden turn.
"Yes, you. You are her father," Sam replied matter-of-factly.
"What if I said no?" Jack inquired, genuinely curious.
Slowly, Sam looked down, her expression clouded with disappointment.
"Then I won't see her," she admitted quietly, unable to hide her feelings.
Jack raised another eyebrow, stunned by her response.
"You would just give up like that? Because of me?" he questioned, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Sam swallowed, her resolve evident.
"It isn't a matter of giving up. She's not my daughter; she's yours. So, in the end, I'll do what you want me to do," she explained, her voice soft but persistent.
Jack was left speechless, his mind reeling at her unwavering loyalty and selflessness.
"That isn't fair. You're leaving all the responsibility on my side," Jack said, struggling with the wave of emotions coursing through him.
Sam smiled, though there was little reason to smile.
"Fair? Do you want to talk about fairness? Really?" she asked, her fingers starting to unbutton her jacket.
"Okay, so maybe 'fair' wasn't the best word..." he began, but she shook her head and left the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" he asked, confused by her sudden departure.
"I'm tired," she said, draping her jacket over one of the chairs in the living room. She sat on the couch and started to remove her shoes. Jack stood at the room entrance, unsure of what to do. Was she planning to undress completely?
"I won't get naked, don't worry," she said as if she could read his thoughts.
Jack swallowed. "Right," he said, still feeling awkward and uncertain.
"I imagine you need an answer from me," she said, closing her eyes and resting her head against the couch. Her fingers loosening her tie, she shook her head.
Jack nodded, though she couldn't see him. "Yes," he replied aloud.
"Now?" she asked, taking a deep breath.
"No," he said, noticing her exhaustion. "I'll tell Grace I've talked to you, and you need time to think," he suggested.
"I don't," she said, surprising him.
"What?" he asked, taken aback.
"I don't need time to think. If you don't oppose and she wants to see me, I'll see her," she said, still with her eyes closed. She was making a Herculean effort to stay awake.
"You will?" Jack asked, feeling a sense of relief.
"Yes," she confirmed.
Without knowing why, Jack smiled.
"Oh, okay. I'll tell her," he said, putting his hands in his pockets.
"Anything else?" she asked, hoping to close the conversation.
He could see how exhausted she was and didn't want to keep her awake any longer.
"No. I'll let you rest," he said, turning around. "Good night, Carter," he called softly as he headed toward the door.
She didn't answer him, already lost in sleep.
Without surprise, Grace was awake waiting for him when Jack entered and placed his hat and keys in their usual spot.
"Grace, what are you doing up?" he asked, regarding his daughter with amusement and exasperation.
"It's not that late, and I've done my homework already," she replied innocently, her blue eyes wide with excitement.
Jack sighed.
"Of course you did," he said, kissing her forehead.
"So, what did she say?" Grace asked eagerly, practically bouncing behind him as he headed to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He needed one.
Taking a large gulp, Jack looked at his daughter, who was already in her PJs.
"She'll see you," he said slowly.
Grace's face lit up with joy.
"YES!" she exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air.
Jack rolled his eyes. "We still have things to discuss, Grace," he reminded her.
She paused her celebrations and regarded him earnestly. "Such as what, Dad?" she asked.
Jack cleared his throat.
"Well, where will the meeting take place for starters?" he said, raising a valid point.
Grace looked around. "Here, of course. Where else?" she said confidently as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Jack cleared his throat again.
"Do you feel comfortable receiving her here? At home?" he inquired, feeling uncertainty creeping in.
Grace nodded without hesitation. "Do you feel comfortable, Daddy?" she asked, her concern for his feelings evident.
Jack took another sip of his beer, considering.
"Yeah, I think so," he said, though his uncertainty lingered.
"We can think of another place if you want," Grace offered, sensing her father's hesitation.
Jack shook his head and disposed of the empty beer can in the trash.
"No, I'm good. This weekend?" he proposed.
Grace beamed.
"Sure, Dad," she agreed eagerly. "We can invite her for lunch or dinner. It would be nice," she suggested, her excitement palpable.
Jack paled slightly at the thought of hosting a meal with Sam.
"I'll ask her. Let's take things slowly, Grace," he cautioned.
Grace nodded understandingly.
"Okay, Daddy," she said, though her eagerness was still evident. She wished it were already Saturday instead of Thursday.
"You'll ask her tomorrow?" she inquired eagerly.
Jack agreed, and they spent the rest of the evening discussing the upcoming weekend and their plans.
Sam arrived late to work for the first time in what felt like ages, her alarm failing to rouse her from her exhausted slumber. She blamed the relentless lack of sleep over the past week and the stressful conversation with Jack the previous night. Consequently, upon arrival, she found a note on her desk instructing her to report to General O'Neill's office immediately. Grumbling under her breath, she crumpled the note and went to his office.
"Good morning," she greeted his secretary, who nodded towards the door. Sam entered, tentatively offering, "Sir."
Jack was seated, engrossed in signing papers.
"Sleep well, Colonel?" he inquired with a faint smile.
Sam felt her cheeks flush. "I'm sorry for being late, Sir," she apologized, her voice barely above a murmur.
Jack continued signing without looking up. "Well, you did look exhausted last night," he remarked, glancing at her quickly.
Sam stood awkwardly, her arms clasped behind her as she waited for his response.
"You can sit, Colonel," he offered, gesturing to a chair.
Slowly, Sam complied, lowering herself into the seat. Jack set aside the papers and regarded her more directly.
"So... I spoke with Grace, and she invited you to lunch this Saturday. If you want and are free," he informed her.
"Lunch?" Sam repeated, feeling a flutter of nerves.
Jack nodded.
"Where?" she inquired, her fingers beginning to fidget nervously.
"My house," Jack replied promptly.
Sam's complexion paled. "Your house," she echoed, her apprehension evident.
"You can stop repeating everything I say, Carter," Jack chided lightly, noticing her discomfort. "Look, if it's too much for you, we can think of something else," he offered, sensing her unease.
"No," Sam responded immediately, her voice gaining steadiness. "No," she repeated, more firmly this time.
Jack leaned back in his chair, studying her carefully.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his tone gentle.
"Yes. What time?" Sam inquired, trying to regain her composure.
"Noon. Here's the address," Jack said, handing her a slip of paper.
Sam accepted it, inwardly cursing her trembling hand. He noticed but said nothing. "Thank you," she managed, rising from her seat.
As she reached for the door, Jack called out to her. "Carter."
She turned back. "Yes, Sir?" she responded.
"Just be careful. She's ten, and her mother died three years ago. You may resemble her, but you're not her mother," he cautioned.
Sam swallowed, meeting his gaze evenly.
"I know, Sir. And you make sure to remind me of that every chance you get," she replied before exiting.
Jack clenched his jaw, returning to his paperwork with a heavy sigh.