Jack left Sam's house while she still slept, slipping away after their physical encounter. More precisely, after they had fucked. There were no tender moments, no whispered words of affection as there had been in the past. This time, their interaction had been purely physical, leaving Jack conflicted. For the first time, his thoughts weren't consumed by memories of his late wife; instead, they were entirely consumed by this Samantha Carter.
As he thrust into her, he couldn't escape the overwhelming realization that it was her, Samantha Carter, whom he was fucking. It was exhilarating yet unnerving. He felt like she was unlocking parts of him he hadn't known existed, bringing forth emotions and desires he hadn't been aware of. But she did. She knew how he was and how to bring it out in the open. Like she had done it before.
Driving his SUV, Jack was suddenly struck by a realization. Like she had done it before.
Had she shared a similar connection with her alternate Jack in their reality? Was she lying about moving on, about not having anything with him? Questions swirled in Jack's mind as he drove home, the streets empty as his thoughts consumed him.
The thought shook him to the core.
Parking in the garage next to the Chevy that she refused to accept despite being already registered in her name, Emily Carter, Jack sat in the dark kitchen, wrestling with his thoughts. He knew he had to dig deeper into this Samantha's past and her actions when crossing through Stargate. He needed to confirm his suspicions, to find out if she had indeed deserted her other reality, and if so, why. The weight of uncertainty settled heavily on his shoulders; sleep would elude him tonight.
He couldn't shake the feeling that this Sam knew him in ways he hadn't known himself. That realization both intrigued and terrified him.
Unable to find sleep, Jack sat in the kitchen after dismissing Pauline, who he found asleep on his couch, her books on the floor. He was sipping on a cup of coffee as he awaited the morning. Grace appeared, ready for breakfast, before heading off to school. She was surprised to find a plate of pancakes waiting for her.
"Hi, Daddy," she greeted, eyeing the breakfast spread.
"Good morning, honey," Jack replied, offering her a smile.
"Thanks, I guess," Grace said as she dug into her meal.
Jack refilled her glass with milk. "I woke up early," he explained vaguely.
Grace noticed his impeccable dress blues, an unusual sight for the morning. He usually only dressed for work after breakfast.
"I'm not even going to ask what time you got up," she remarked between bites.
Finishing his coffee, Jack placed the mug in the dishwasher.
"Don't worry, Grace. By the way, honey, I might be home late tonight, but I'll call if I am," he assured her, his mind preoccupied with the day ahead.
"Okay," Grace replied, her eyes flickering with concern. "I could call Sam," she suggested tentatively, her gaze pleading.
Jack hesitated, his thoughts swirling. "Or I could call Pauline," he countered.
Grace paused in her eating, sensing the tension in the air. "Did you two fight again?" she asked cautiously.
Jack cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully.
"No," he replied truthfully. While they hadn't fought, Jack didn't want Grace to get involved until he uncovered the truth about this Samantha.
"I prefer Sam over Pauline," Grace stated innocently, flashing a smile.
Jack cursed inwardly, feeling the weight of his dilemma. "Let's see. Maybe I'll be home earlier," he offered weakly.
Grace shrugged and returned to her meal. A gnawing feeling lingered in his gut after she left for school, and Jack made his way to the Pentagon. He couldn't shake the sense that things could still take a turn for the worse.
As Sam approached her department at the Pentagon, she was already formulating her next move. Last night's events only confirmed what she had suspected: Jack knew something was amiss or something had transpired. Time was not on her side, and she couldn't afford to wait around for the inevitable confrontation.
In this reality, she had hoped to find a sense of belonging, a home. She had even dared to believe she had seen it for fleeting moments—with Jack and his daughter, Grace. But now, faced with the reality of her situation, she couldn't dwell on pain of leaving them behind. Distractions were a luxury she couldn't afford; her life depended on her next move, and she was racing against the clock.
While they had sex last night, Sam had seen it in Jack's eyes. She had tested him, hoping he would push her away and leave to prove that he didn't just want her just for sex. But he hadn't. As they fucked, Sam glimpsed for the first time that raw connection, similar to the one she had painfully experienced with her Jack. Thankfully, this Jack hadn't crossed the same lines as the other Jack, but Sam sensed a potential darkness within him. It was a facet they both kept closely guarded. Unlike the other Jack, who had freely revealed his darker tendencies without hesitation, Sam prayed this Jack would never do the same.
Their downfall had been attributed solely to that shadowy aspect within him. Sam had long attributed it to his past in black ops, assuming it was a consequence of those days. How wrong she had been. She learned the truth firsthand, enduring the painful consequences of her misconception. Their parting had been bitter and agonizing, ending in a manner that left scars on her soul and body.
During her tenure as commander of Atlantis, Sam had the opportunity to delve into Ancient technology, among other things. During one exploration of the city, she stumbled upon a fascinating discovery. Recognizing its potential, she directed McKay to investigate further in another room while she retrieved the schematics. Alone in her quarters later, she realized she held a genuine treasure. For once in her life, she wasn't inclined to share it with her superiors; she intended to keep it for herself.
She then took matters into her own hands. Secretly, she had put her genius to work and constructed a mobile quantum mirror capable of attaching to a Stargate and facilitating travel to alternate realities. She had tested it occasionally during her off-duty hours. Still, she always returned, secretly hoping things would work out between her and Jack O'Neill, who continued as Head of Homeworld and only contacted her professionally. Hope had always been her weakness. And would also be her disgrace.
Things hadn't worked out in Atlantis, and kiss-ass Richard Woolsey replaced her. Since her abrupt departure from command at Atlantis, she had lingered in Washington, D.C., awaiting reassignment and again hoping Jack would come to his senses. With time on her hands, one night, she accepted an invitation from Cameron Mitchell, who happened to be in town, to a cocktail reception courtesy of an old Pentagon acquaintance. Surprisingly, she enjoyed the evening, basking in casual conversation, until an unexpected touch on her back shattered the tranquility.
"Come with me now," a voice commanded in a hushed tone.
Sam recognized it instantly, and she politely apologized to her companions. They departed the gathering in silence, his grip firm on her arm as they hurried to his waiting car. Once inside, Sam adjusted her long black dress, only to be caught by a painful grip on her arm.
"So, now you're with that loser?" he seethed, his eyes intensely dark.
Sam met his gaze, her brow arching in amusement.
"Excuse me?" she retorted, settling into her seat as the car pulled away.
Jack wore his dress blues decorated with medals and seemed very jealous when he saw her with Cameron. They hadn't spoken since he last inspected the city during her time as commander at Atlantis, and he offered no support when she was relieved of command. However, seeing her with another man seemed to ignite something within him. It was pretty amusing, to say the least.
As the car abruptly stopped, Jack flung open the door, exiting without a word. Sam remained seated, her resolve solidifying.
"I'll drag you if I have to," he warned, his hand outstretched. Blushing, Sam reluctantly complied, her jaw clenched with frustration.
Dismissive of his driver, Jack led her by the hand to a nearby gray townhouse, presumably his. Pushing open the front door, he ushered her inside with a forceful shove.
"What the hell, Jack!" she protested, but he merely closed the door behind them, his expression unreadable beneath the brim of his hat.
"Do you really think you can parade around my city with that maverick in tow and expect me to turn a blind eye?" Jack's voice was dangerously low as he closed in on her, his presence intimidating.
Sam instinctively placed her hands on his chest, stepping back until she collided with the wall, halting her retreat. Despite the pressure, he dared to smile at her.
"I can show up with whoever I please," she countered, her tone daring.
Jack leaned in closer, his hand resting against the wall beside her face.
"And who gave you that impression?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he dismissively threw away his hat.
Sam maintained her distance, her hands still on his chest. Without warning, Jack's lips crashed against hers in a sudden, bruising kiss, his body pressing firmly against hers. Not to be taken as shy, Sam kissed him back fiercely, drawing blood from his lower lip, and then all hell broke loose. It was their first time together, and it hadn't been anything Sam was expecting. Instead, it had been fiercely physical and damaging. There was no room for tenderness, sweetness, or gentle words—it was the opposite. Their whirlwind 'affair' lasted less than three days.
Sam was later informed of her assignment to command the Hammond, and their paths crossed again in a corridor of the Pentagon, the air heavy with tension.
"So, Carter, commander of the Hammond," Jack remarked, his tone teasing as he appraised her.
Sam's response was icy since she couldn't hit a superior officer without being court-martialled.
"Don't look so pleased, Sir, or people might think you'll miss me," she retorted.
Jack's smile was equally cold.
"I have never missed you, Carter. Don't flatter yourself," he replied.
Though they were alone, the corridor felt crowded with their unspoken animosity. Sam closed the distance between them, stopping inches from his face.
"You are right. To miss me, you'd have to possess actual emotions, and we both know you lack them in any shape or form," she asserted, her voice like steel.
Jack swallowed, feeling the weight of her words. "I'm not alone in that department, Colonel," he shot back.
Sam's smile turned sharp.
"There was a line in a movie that said something about 'I usually get kissed before I get fucked,'" she remarked, still close to him. "Does that ring a bell, General?" she asked, sticking a finger in his chest.
Jack flushed, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his demeanor. "We have different tastes in movies," he muttered through clenched teeth.
Sam took a step back, removing her finger, her composure unwavering.
"Yes, we do. In fact, we don't have anything in common," she stated firmly. Without another word, she suddenly saluted him. "It's been an honor, Sir," she spat when in reality, she meant, "Go fuck yourself."
With that, she turned on her heel and left Jack alone in the corridor. It was her goodbye and the last time she had seen him personally until he crossed the Stargate into this reality. Again, their parting hadn't been pleasant.
Now, faced with the looming confrontation with this Jack, Sam knew she had to act swiftly and decisively. There was no turning back now.
As promised, upon his arrival at his office, Jack found his inbox flooded with files from Hank Landry. Opening the emails, he was confronted with a maze of technical jargon and complex data. Frustration crept in as he realized he lacked the expertise to decipher the information.
Picking up the phone, he dialed Hank's number once again.
"Hi, Jack. Again. I've already sent you everything I have," Hank greeted.
"I know, Hank. I'm going through them now, but I'm hitting a wall. I need someone to walk me through this, to explain it," Jack admitted.
Hank hesitated before suggesting, "You do have Colonel Carter."
Jack's response was immediate and firm. "Not her. Send a message to Atlantis. I want McKay and Zelenka here. One of them or both, depending on Sheppard's approval. I need an expert here, ASAP."
Hank seemed taken aback. "You want them here? On Earth?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes, it's a top priority. Classified. Make it happen," Jack ordered.
Hank sighed. "Very well. I'll contact them immediately, but remember, they still have to go through the Midway Space Station," he reminded Jack.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just get them here as quickly as possible, Hank," Jack replied, impatient to get the ball rolling.
After ironing out a few more details, they ended the call. Jack returned to his desk, determined to make sense of the information before him while he awaited the arrival of the experts from Atlantis.
The day dragged on for Jack as he delved deeper into the paperwork concerning Colonel Samantha Carter's arrival into their reality. She had arrived with a hurt hand, only with a zat gun and dog tags, leaving no clues about how she had traveled. However, Jack knew Sam's brilliance; her lack of equipment didn't rule out the possibility that she had used advanced technology.
He sifted through pages of Stargate codes, symbols that had little meaning. Fatigue weighed heavily on him as he contemplated the situation. He desperately hoped he was wrong, but the implications were dire. If this Carter were lying, Grace would again have her heart broken. The thought of his daughter's pain fueled Jack's determination to uncover the truth.
He feared the impact on Grace the most. Jack didn't know how Grace would cope if this Samantha had deceived her. No one dared to toy with his daughter's emotions, and Carter would face severe consequences if she had deceived Grace.
Anger simmered within Jack as he vowed to hold Carter accountable. No one crossed his daughter and got away with it. If Carter had manipulated Grace's trust, she would pay the price—possibly with her life. Jack's protective instincts surged, driving him to pursue the truth relentlessly.
As Jack was preparing to leave his office, his phone rang, and he quickly answered.
"O'Neill," he greeted.
"Jack, it's me," Landry's voice came through the line. "Sheppard is sending McKay," he informed.
Jack let out a resigned sigh. "Okay, I suppose he'll have to do," he conceded.
Hank chuckled on the other end. "He apologizes, but he can only spare one of his scientists. He needs the other one there," he explained.
Another sigh escaped Jack. "I'd prefer Zelenka," he admitted.
"Probably Sheppard had the same thought, and that's why you're getting McKay," Hank quipped.
"Fine. Let me know when he's there, and we'll beam him here. We can't afford to waste any more time," Jack instructed firmly.
Hank's tone turned serious. "Is everything okay, Jack? Should I be worried?" he asked cautiously.
Jack hesitated, then replied, "Not yet, Hank. But as I've said, keep that Stargate closed to any codes from their reality."
"Understood," Hank acknowledged.
After exchanging a few more words, they bid farewell and hung up. Jack grabbed his hat and prepared to leave the office. It was time to head home.
Sam waited until everyone had left the building before she began her work. She no longer had the luxury of a mobile quantum mirror but felt confident building one from scratch. Keeping all the schematics in her head, she avoided putting anything on paper to avoid leaving evidence behind. First, she needed to gather the materials, which were quite common. Assembling them would be trickier, but she planned to do that at home, away from prying eyes.
Utilizing her high-security clearance and the guise of working on a complex project, Sam had already started collecting components from various departments within the Pentagon. Most people were oblivious to the specifics of her work, so when she requested certain materials, they only asked her to sign the forms. She didn't need much, just the right pieces to make it work. She estimated she could have it completed within three days, depending on Jack's next move.
For Sam, it was a risk she needed to take. She had to be close to Jack to gauge his actions and plan her next steps accordingly. Despite the dangers, she knew it was necessary to achieve her goals. To do all of this, she was utterly burying her emotions. It was the only way.
More than once, the words of RepliCarter crossed her mind: "You have untapped greatness inside you, Sam, but you're limited by your own fears. You play by the rules, you do as you're told and you deny yourself your own desires". She had played by the rules until what happened in her reality with Jack. Then, she decided to go after her desires. Search for her happiness and find her home.
Jack was watching TV with Grace at home when the doorbell rang, startling them both.
"Stay," Jack instructed Grace as he made his way to the door, his movements cautious. Peering through the peephole, he was surprised to see Sam standing on the other side. Slowly opening the door, he kept a hand on it, his annoyance evident.
"A little late for a visit, isn't it?" he remarked bluntly.
Sam offered a polite smile with her hands in her leather jacket pockets. "Sorry to bother you at this hour," she apologized.
Jack didn't invite her inside, and Sam couldn't help but notice. It seemed fucking him would be her last memory of him. Pitty, but she should have known better.
"Can I borrow the Chevy's keys?" she requested.
Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise. "The Chevy's keys?" he echoed.
Having heard Sam's voice, Grace appeared by her father's side with a smile.
"Hello, Grace," Sam greeted, still not moving from her spot.
"Are you visiting us?" Grace inquired, her curiosity piqued.
Sam cleared her throat. "Ah, no, honey. I'm actually asking your father for the Corvette keys," she explained.
Grace looked surprised. "Mom's car?" she questioned.
Jack cleared his throat, handing over the keys.
"It's Carter's car now, Grace. Here," he replied, passing them to Sam. Their fingers brushed slightly as she took them.
She was also back at Carter, Sam noticed.
"Thanks. Would you be okay with me taking it with me?" Sam asked, her cheeks flushing slightly.
Jack looked taken aback.
"You're taking the car now?" he questioned, intrigued.
"If you don't mind," Sam replied, her hands again in her pockets.
"The car is yours," Jack conceded, although intrigued.
"Right. So, I'm going. And I'm sorry about the hour," Sam apologized, heading towards the garage.
Jack watched as she opened the garage and swiftly entered. Moments later, the Chevy roared to life, and she sped off without so much as a glance or a wave. Jack closed the door behind her, his mind preoccupied with other matters. McKay better be on Earth soon, or he'd be tempted to send him to a distant galaxy before he could even spell "Rodney."
Sam needed the car for practical reasons. While she could have opted for a rental, the risk of being traced was too high. She had places to go that required discretion, and if Jack had offered her a car, she would use it. After gathering all she could from the Pentagon's supply, she discovered they lacked something vital. So, she needed a particular material to be acquired illegally, and she had a rendezvous scheduled in precisely an hour. Time was of the essence, and she had to speed up to make it there on time. Her gun was securely hidden at the back of her waistband in case she encountered any trouble along the way. She wasn't taking any risks.
While Jack pieced together the available information, Sam meticulously gathered all the materials she needed to construct her mobile quantum mirror. It was a race against time for both of them, and they were keenly aware of the urgency.
Jack knew he could have Carter arrested and then wait for McKay to arrive to build a case against her. However, something stopped him from taking that step—it wasn't merely the principle of presumption of innocence until proven guilty. It was more his conflicted feelings for her despite everything. He wasn't particularly proud of letting his emotions sway his judgment as an officer, but he couldn't ignore them. Even with everything that was going on, he couldn't deny that he was in love with her.
McKay was expected to arrive today, and Jack intended to put him to work immediately upon his arrival at the Pentagon. He had already prepared a room for him—an isolated space, far from Carter's department and guarded by armed personnel. He wanted to avoid any potential confrontations between them.
As Jack's phone rang, he saw it was Landry calling. "Hi Hank," he greeted.
"Hi, Jack. I have someone here who just arrived from Atlantis. I believe you're expecting him," Landry informed.
"Tell him to be prepared to be beamed in five minutes," Jack instructed, rising from his seat and going to the beaming room at a quick pace.
"Right," Hank acknowledged, relaying the message to McKay.
Jack entered the beaming room and gave the order. "Is he ready, Hank?" he inquired.
"Yep," Landry confirmed.
"Do it," Jack instructed the Pentagon officer.
"Thanks, Hank," he said before ending the call.
Rodney McKay materialized a few feet away from Jack, briefcase in hand.
"Welcome, Rodney," Jack greeted with a smile.
McKay half-smiled in return. "General," he acknowledged.
After completing the necessary procedures, Jack escorted Rodney McKay to the room where he would be staying.
"So, start working and tell me how the hell she came to our reality. Your counterpart figured out how to create a quantum mirror. Do you want to be outdone by yourself?" Jack queried as he opened the door to the office prepared for McKay.
Huffing, McKay entered and placed his briefcase on the large table.
"I'll find the answer in no time, General," he assured confidently.
Jack patted him on the back.
"Good, because you aren't leaving this room until you do," he stated firmly.
McKay's expression paled as Jack closed the door. Rodney then noticed a small cot near the wall and a portable toilet.
"Oh, shit," he cursed, closing his eyes.