True to his word, Rodney McKay immediately dove into his work with all the materials at his disposal. Unaware of his presence, Sam left her office and headed home. She was nearly finished with the device, hoping to complete it that night. Of course, she knew she would always need the Stargate, and obtaining access might prove difficult if they were already onto her. Nevertheless, she remained confident that she could find a way.
As she entered her house, she conducted a quick security inspection to ensure everything was as she had left it. This precaution had become routine since her move to this reality, a lingering trauma from the N.I.D. surveillance during Orlin's appearance many years ago, but that left deep marks. Removing a board from the floor of her bedroom, she retrieved the nearly assembled device and placed it on her bed. With determination, she began to work on it, humming a tune from Star Wars as she did.
It was nearly 0300 when she finally completed her work. Admiring the device, her tired eyes regarded it as her ticket away from this reality should she choose to use it.
"Your move, Jack," she murmured aloud as she carefully placed it inside an everyday makeup bag. She filled the bag with lip gloss, concealer, blush, mascara, hair ties, makeup brushes, and the device. Closing the bag, she stowed it in her purse before heading to the shower and then to bed. She needed all the sleep she could get before the next phase of her plan.
Jack entered McKay's office without bothering to knock. The scientist was sprawled across the papers on the table, snoring loudly. Jack approached him quietly and leaned in close to his ear.
"McKay!" he bellowed.
Startled awake, Rodney nearly toppled out of his chair.
"What the..." he began, then saw Jack. "General, you have a rather unconventional way of waking people up," he grumbled, stretching.
Arms crossed, Jack looked at him sternly. "Have you made any progress?" he demanded.
Rodney shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "Not yet," he admitted.
Jack's expression soured. "I thought you were supposed to be a genius, McKay," he remarked.
Straightening up, Rodney defended himself, puffing out his chest. "I am. I'm the most brilliant mind in this galaxy," he declared proudly.
Jack smirked. "Clearly not," he retorted.
Rodney flushed with embarrassment.
"I'll figure it out. I need coffee. Lots of it," he muttered.
Nodding, Jack conceded, "I'll have someone bring it to you."
McKay cleared his throat, one hand resting on the papers before him.
"Anything else, McKay?" Jack inquired, his tone neutral.
McKay hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"One thing... This Samantha Carter isn't your wife, so does the off-limit rule still apply, or am I free to, you know..." He trailed off, a smirk playing on his lips.
Jack's expression hardened instantly.
"She's off-limits, McKay. Don't even think about it. Focus on the task I've given you," he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
With that, he turned and left Rodney to his work.
"He's involved with her as well. What's with women's obsession with those men with stars on their shoulders? Will women drop at my feet if I also slap some stars on my uniform?" McKay muttered under his breath as he grabbed the papers, his frustration evident. He sighed heavily, shaking his head.
When Jack returned to his office, he was shocked to find Carter patiently waiting for him. His secretary nodded discreetly in her direction.
"I don't recall having any appointment scheduled, Colonel," he remarked casually, glancing over the papers Martina had given him.
Sam rose from her seat and stood at attention. "We don't have one, Sir. I was hoping you could spare me just five minutes, but if you can't, I understand," she said respectfully.
Jack continued to peruse the papers, his curiosity piqued by her unexpected presence.
"Fine, five minutes only," he agreed, motioning for her to follow him into his office.
Sam followed suit, closing the door behind her. Jack seated himself behind his desk, then looked up at her expectantly.
"So, what's up, Carter?" he inquired.
Sam handed him a thick file. "This is your report, Sir, about the Icarus base—the one you requested," she explained.
Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I didn't expect you to continue with it after your transfer. You didn't have to," he remarked as he accepted the file.
Sam met his gaze steadily. "You gave me a job to do, Sir, and I did it. The conclusions are in there," she said.
Curious, Jack opened the file and began to peruse its contents. "Give me a summary," he requested.
Sam cleared her throat before summarizing the findings.
"It's impossible, Sir. No matter how we approach it, the project is unfeasible. Naquadria presents both a resource and a problem; it cannot be solved unless we relocate the Stargate from the planet. And we cannot move it until we find a way to power it safely," she concluded, her tone matter-of-fact.
Jack closed the file and nodded. "Thank you, Colonel. I'll review it thoroughly," he said, acknowledging her efforts.
Sam continued to regard him, her expression unreadable.
"Anything else?" Jack inquired, sensing there was more she wanted to say.
Sam hesitated for a moment before responding. "No, Sir," she eventually replied.
"Dismissed, then," Jack said, signaling the end of their meeting.
As Sam turned to leave, Jack halted her with a question. "Is it true that you only care about yourself, Colonel?" he asked slowly.
Sam's hand paused on the doorknob, and she turned back to face him. "I'm afraid I don't understand the question, Sir," she replied calmly and composedly.
Jack considered her carefully.
"It's a simple question, Carter, something the other O'Neill mentioned about you during his visit. I was curious if there was any truth to it," he explained, watching her reaction closely.
Sam maintained her composure, her demeanor unwavering. "I've been accused of several things, Sir," she said evenly.
Jack leaned back in his chair, contemplating her response. "Yes, you have. Desertion, deliberately jumping to another reality, being selfish. Am I missing anything?" he asked, feigning innocence.
A subtle smile played on Sam's lips. "Genius, Sir. Don't forget I'm a genius," she retorted, her tone teasing.
Jack chuckled. "Ah, yes. Let's not overlook your intellectual prowess," he conceded.
"Do you believe I only care about myself, General?" she countered, reversing the roles.
Jack met her gaze directly. "If you were my wife, the answer would be a resounding 'no,'" he replied with a hint of warmth.
Sam's expression almost softened. "But then again, I'm not your wife, Sir", she acknowledged.
"No, you are not," he agreed as he continued to look at her. It felt like she was trying to convey a message he couldn't grasp.
"Which brings us back to where we started when I arrived here," Sam remarked, her tone shifting slightly.
Jack detected a fleeting hint of sadness in her words. "I wouldn't phrase it quite like that," he said.
Sam cleared her throat, a touch of nostalgia in her voice. "Pessimistic until I die, remember, Sir?" she reminded him, echoing past conversations.
Jack's demeanor faltered.
"What are you trying to tell me, Carter?" he inquired, sensing there was more beneath the surface.
Sam smoothed her skirt, her expression inscrutable.
"Nothing, Sir. It has been an honor," she said, saluting him formally.
Jack's alarm bells began to ring. "Wait, Carter—" he started, but Sam interrupted with a smile.
"Tell Grace I'll call her so we can have an ice cream," she said with a small smile before turning and exiting the office, closing the door behind her.
Jack stood rooted to the spot, his mind racing.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, feeling a sense of unease settle over him.
Unknown to Jack, Sam had discovered through the grapevine that Rodney McKay was in the Pentagon, so it wasn't difficult to deduce what he was up to. That had been the reason she had sought him out in his office. And to bid him farewell if things worsened and they never crossed paths again. This time, Sam wasn't retreating. She had only three options and had already decided: stay as if nothing had changed, leave, or die. She didn't entertain any other possibilities and had already taken measures to prepare for whatever came next. She was finding her home, or home had already found her, whether it was in this reality or another. Either way, she was prepared. The most challenging part remained: saying goodbye to Grace in case she had to leave.
After Carter's departure, Jack stormed into McKay's office, his expression demanding answers.
"You better have something for me!" he said sharply, his tone laced with frustration.
McKay slammed his hand on the table, scattering the papers.
"I don't," he admitted, his voice dripping with exasperation.
Jack's alarm was palpable. "You don't?" he repeated incredulously.
McKay shook his head, his expression grim.
"I have no concrete evidence, General. I've been all over these several times and am completely stuck. I only have theories," he confessed.
Jack sank into the nearest chair, running a hand over his forehead.
"Tell me what you've got," he requested, his voice tense.
Rodney went to a whiteboard, erasing the equations he had scribbled. He drew two Stargates, one representing theirs and the other Carter's.
"Whatever happened, it occurred at her Stargate. It's the only explanation for the crossing," he explained. "Either her Stargate was modified, or she possessed a device capable of altering it, essentially turning it into a quantum mirror. She likely chose our reality, or it was a random jump. It depends on the device's capabilities," McKay elaborated, setting the marker down.
Jack studied the diagram intently.
"That's it? And this mobile device? Where is it? She had nothing on her when she crossed," Jack pointed out.
McKay shrugged.
"It could have been disposed of, possibly tossed away to avoid leaving evidence before she crossed. Considering they were working on a solution to her disappearance, if such a device had existed, they would have used it to retrieve her," McKay suggested matter-of-factly.
Jack felt a headache coming on.
"What's our next move?" he inquired.
McKay sighed heavily.
"Interrogation, I guess. She's the only one with the answers, General. Though I doubt she'll be forthcoming. As former commander of Atlantis and the Hammond, she's not likely to spill her secrets easily," McKay speculated.
Jack rubbed his temples. "So, after all this, you're telling me we have no proof she crossed into our reality intentionally? Just suspicions?" he clarified.
McKay nodded grimly.
"I can't prove it. And believe me, General, it's driving me insane," he admitted.
Jack glanced at the whiteboard before getting up.
"Thanks for your efforts, McKay. Clear everything up, and one of my men will take you to a hotel so you can rest properly. Then you can return to Atlantis," Jack said, shaking his hand firmly.
"Thank you, General," McKay replied earnestly.
Jack left the room, seething with frustration.
As Sam waited for Grace to emerge from school, parked in the Chevy, the warm embrace of summer enveloped her. She had planned to wait until the weekend, but with McKay's presence at the Pentagon, she knew time was running out. By the weekend, she could be gone, in prison or dead. She couldn't afford to delay it. So, as Grace stepped off the school bus, Sam emerged from the black car.
"Hi, Grace," she greeted, walking toward the blonde girl who carried an enormous backpack.
"Sam?" Grace questioned, clearly confused.
Without any explanation or discussion, Grace had stopped calling her "Mom" or "Mommy," and Sam wasn't sure if that was better or worse. She guessed it was the universe's natural adaptation to its actual reality. She was the foreign element.
"Yep," she confirmed with a smile.
"What are you doing here?" Grace inquired, glancing around.
Sam had changed from her dress blues into a simple pair of jeans and a black v-neck T-shirt.
"I was wondering if you wanted to go for some ice cream," Sam suggested, crossing her arms.
Grace set her backpack on the ground. "Now?" she asked, puzzled.
"Sure, why not?" Sam replied, attempting to sound casual.
The azure sky stretched endlessly above them, adorned with wisps of cotton-like clouds drifting lazily. The sun, a radiant orb of golden light, cast its benevolent rays upon the world below, infusing everything with a gentle warmth.
A gentle breeze danced through the air, carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass. The vibrant greenery of nearby trees swayed in harmony with the breeze, their leaves rustling softly as if whispering secrets to one another.
Birds chirped joyfully, adding their melodic tunes to the symphony of nature. The distant sound of children's laughter echoed in the air, a testament to the carefree spirit of summer days.
As Sam glanced around, she couldn't help but be captivated by the beauty of it all. The world seemed to glow with a radiant energy, inviting her to pause and appreciate the simple joys of life. Unfortunately, she couldn't appreciate any of those joys; she could try to enjoy the last moments with the lovely ten-year-old blond, blue-eyed girl in front of her and take those memories with her.
Grace furrowed her brow as she regarded Sam.
"Does Dad know you're here?" she asked slowly.
Sam cleared her throat. "He knows I came to see if you wanted ice cream," Sam answered diplomatically, sidestepping the truth.
Grace glanced at the car parked in the driveway.
"I don't want ice cream. I want to ride in Mom's car," she declared with a smile.
Sam swallowed nervously. "What?" she questioned, taken aback.
Grace picked up her backpack, opened the front door, tossed it inside, and closed it again.
"There. We can go," she said decisively.
Sam swallowed once more.
"Um, Grace, I'm not sure your father will like you being in that car," Sam said slowly, trying to dissuade her.
Grace shrugged her shoulders. "Just drive slow," she insisted, opening the passenger door.
"Just drive slow," Sam repeated, putting on her sunglasses and sliding into the driver's seat.
Grace had already fastened her seatbelt and was looking at her with an excited smile.
"Let's go!" she exclaimed eagerly.
Sam sighed heavily and started the car. "Okay, just a short ride then," she agreed reluctantly.
"YES!" Grace cheered as they drove off.
This time, Sam drove slowly, listening to Grace chatter away excitedly. However, as they approached an intersection, Sam's mind wandered, and she forgot to use her left turn signal. Suddenly, she saw flashing lights in her rearview mirror, signaling her to pull over. Sam signaled and pulled the Chevy to the side of the road, her heart pounding as she waited for the officer to approach. Grace fell silent beside her.
"Are we in trouble?" Grace asked in a hushed tone.
Sam removed her sunglasses. "I hope not, honey. Let me handle this," she reassured Grace.
Sam rolled down her window as the officer approached, trying to steady her nerves.
"Good afternoon, officer," she greeted, her voice trembling slightly.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the officer replied professionally. "Do you know why I pulled you over?"
Sam swallowed nervously, acknowledging her mistake. "I... I believe I failed to signal my left turn," she admitted, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
The officer nodded and requested her license, registration, and insurance. Sam handed over the documents. "Of course, here you go," she said.
Grace observed the interaction silently but with interest. The police had never pulled her over while she had been with her mother or father, so this was quite the novelty. As the officer reviewed Sam's documents, her mind raced with worry. She hoped for just a ticket, but her fears were confirmed when the officer looked at Grace.
"And who is the young lady next to you, ma'am?" the officer inquired, his tone polite.
Grace flashed a friendly smile, glad that she was being given attention. "I'm Grace," she replied cheerfully.
Sam cursed inwardly, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. The officer's smile remained, but his gaze flicked to the papers on his clipboard.
"Really? That's a nice name. And what are you doing in the car, Grace?" he questioned, his tone gentle but curious.
"Oh, we've just come for a drive," Grace answered casually, her demeanor relaxed.
The officer nodded, his brows furrowing slightly.
"Right. And what is your full name, Grace?" he asked, his tone more formal.
Grace's smile didn't falter. "Grace Carter-O'Neill," she responded promptly, her eyes meeting the officer's.
The officer raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Oh, so you are relatives?" he inquired, returning his attention to Sam.
Sam swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation. "She's my cousin's daughter," she explained quickly, her voice steady despite her growing apprehension.
"Please wait a moment, ma'am," the officer requested politely before returning to his patrol car.
Sam closed her eyes briefly, cursing her predicament.
"Shit".
Grace, sensing the tension, looked at her with concern. "Are you cursing?" she asked innocently.
"I'm sorry, Grace. Forget you heard that," Sam responded quickly, offering a reassuring smile as she glanced at her cell phone, anticipating the call she knew was coming.
To her surprise, Grace's phone rang. Grace answered, her expression curious as she listened to her father on the other end.
"Hi, Daddy," she greeted, then glanced at Sam. "Yes, I am," she confirmed before handing the phone to Sam. "He wants to talk to you," she explained.
Sam took a deep breath before speaking into the phone. "Hello," she said calmly.
"What the fuck are you doing with my daughter in a car, Carter?" Jack's voice boomed through the phone, filled with anger and concern.
"We were just taking a short drive," Sam replied, trying to maintain her composure despite Jack's tone.
Jack's voice grew even more heated.
"And who permitted you to do that? You aren't her mother! How many times do I have to repeat that? In the Corvette, Carter? Are you nuts? That car doesn't even have airbags... what if you had an accident?" he ranted, his words coming out in a rush.
Sam clenched her jaw, feeling a surge of frustration and guilt simultaneously. He was right; the car wasn't safe for Grace.
"Fine, I've got the message. I'm taking her home," she said tersely.
"Oh, yes, you are. And you stay there waiting for me. We aren't done talking, Colonel," Jack snapped before hanging up.
Sam handed the phone back to Grace, her expression tight.
"Are you okay?" Grace asked, concern evident in her eyes.
"I'm fine, honey," Sam reassured her, forcing a smile despite her inner turmoil.
The officer returned the documents later and issued a warning for the traffic violation.
"I'm letting you off with a warning this time, ma'am. Just make sure to signal your turns in the future," he instructed.
"Thank you, officer. I'll be more careful," Sam replied gratefully, her mind racing with thoughts of the impending confrontation with Jack.
As they drove away, Sam couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in her chest. When she arrived at Jack's home, she knew she was in for a heated discussion, and that was the last thing she wanted or needed.
"Let's get you home, Grace," she said with a forced smile, her mind already preparing for the storm ahead.