Well, it’s been
another rousing disaster for SG-1.
Immediately following a dramatically interrupted and therefore rather
anticlimactic debriefing all four of us have crawled off to lick our wounds. Teal’c will kel-no-reem himself into cosmic
rightness. Jack will hunker down in his
office and consider all the tactical possibilities. When he satisfies himself that nothing we did caused this fiasco
and nothing we could have done would have changed the outcome, he’ll literally
and figuratively close the book and go home.
Me…well, in a way I’ve already gone the same route as Jack. I assessed the mess while we were still up
to our necks in it and realized that we were nothing more than pawns in the
Curia’s hands, powerless to change anything.
Even if we had refused Travell’s invitation to return, the game would
have still played out to, most likely, the same ending. The alternative would be the Tollan
fulfilling their Faustian bargain and blasting us off the face of the earth. I have to admit, if it’s a case of us or
them, I have to go with us. So there’s
no happy ending. Period. Not possible. I don’t like it but I guess I’ll just have to file it with all
the other missions that didn’t have happy endings. It’s not like I have…had any strong personal attachment to the
Tollan. Unlike Sam, who I’m sure is
buried in her lab running complex physics equations in an attempt to distract
herself from the pain. Been there, done
that…should have it tattooed on my ass.
Which is exactly why I’m headed for the astrophysics lab. Right now Sam doesn’t want to see me. Or anyone else for that matter. Like I said—I know how it is. Teal’c expressed his condolences before we’d
even left the gate room. He was
straight to the point, blunt even, but that’s Teal’c’s way. I think it’s also his way of respecting Sam
as a colleague. After all, soldiers
don’t go blubbering over casualties of war, do they? Major Carter probably understands that. Sam needs more. Still, I
hesitate at her door. Sam is, after
all, highly skilled in hand to hand combat.
Take a deep breath, Daniel.
“Hey, Sam.” Sam looks up,
startled by my voice. She closes off
almost instantly.
“Hey,” she responds
warily. I risk actually entering the
office.
“Um…how are you
doing?”
“Fine.” Right.
Could we see a show of hands from anyone who believes that?
“Really?”
“I will be,” Sam
assures me with a quick and decidedly forced smile. I wait her out. “Really,
Daniel. I just don’t feel like talking
right now.”
“Oh. Sure.
I know.” Why is it than whenever
I need to discuss something of deep emotional import I suddenly revert to the
verbal skills of a three-year-old? I’m
a linguist for god’s sake. Just having
a Y chromosome should not reduce me to monosyllabic incoherence every time
feelings are discussed. I give myself a
disgusted shake. “Really, Sam…I
understand.” She’s watching me
closely…assessing. Finally there seems
to be some lessening of the tension in her shoulders.
“Really?” She manages to give the word a slightly
teasing tone. I can’t help a small
smile of relief. I know I need to take
advantage of the small opening so I pull up a stool next to hers.
“I do, you know. Understand.”
“Yeah, I suppose you do.” She’s
not exactly thrilled that I’ve had to go through this before. Any more than I’m happy about seeing her
deal with another loss. Adding to her
burden is the fact that no one around here was exactly crazy about the
Tollan. One thing that helped me deal with
losing Sha’re was the fact that a least a few people here knew her. When Jack expressed his regret and talked
about her courage…well, it just meant more because he understood what I had
lost. I only knew Narim a little bit
but I saw how he felt about Sam. In
fact, I probably saw more than either he or Sam would have liked.
“I’m sorry about Narim.
He was a good man. And he really
cared about you,” I offer. Tears
threaten but there’s just the hint of a smile on her lips. It’s a small comfort I offer, but Sam
accepts gratefully.
“Yes, he was.”
Her face twists with anger. “He
sure as heck didn’t deserve this. Damn
Curia. Damn goa’uld.”
“No, no, he didn’t,” I agree whole-heartedly.
“If he hadn’t had feelings for me….” Sam’s voice trails off but I know exactly
where her thoughts are going. It’s one
of the reasons I felt I should be the one to offer a shoulder. Or at least an ear. Having been there and all.
“You know that didn’t
make any difference. The Curia had made
their deal. And no offense, but I don’t
think you figured into it in any way.”
I get more than a hint of smile this time. More rueful than happy but I’ll take anything I can get right
now. “And Narim, being a good man,
could never have stood idly by and let the Curia prostitute the Tollan
civilization. Our presence may have
brought the issue to a head sooner rather than later, but I honestly don’t
believe the conclusion would have differed substantially if we hadn’t been
there.”
“I suppose not,” Sam
says reluctantly, resting her chin on the heel of her hand.
“On the other hand, you’ve probably realized that there’s
a curse on your love life.” I’m
kidding. Sort of.
“Potential,” Sam says
matter of factly, staring down at her calculations again.
“Huh?”
“Potential love life.”
“Oh.” Oh…right.
I get it. “I see.”
“I mean if we’re going
to be accurate….”
“Yes, yes, by all
means, we should be accurate in these matters,” I say solemnly. She glares at me with mock anger. “Anyway, I’ve already faced up to the curse. Done the whole 12-step program. I just thought I might be able to help.”
“I don’t believe in
curses.” I don’t care what Sam’s birth
certificate says, I swear she’s from Missouri.
If you can’t show her….
“Every woman I
have…’history’ with becomes a goa’uld,” I offer as proof.
“At least you had
history!” she shoots back. Good,
wonderful, now we’re both blushing…and I’ll concede the point on ‘history’.
“There is that.” I surrender graciously.
“And all of mine end
up dead. Pre-historically speaking.”
“I would argue that
dead is preferable to being goa’ulded, historical or not.”
“I’ll agree that
neither is a desirable outcome,” Sam offers as a compromise. “And certainly not justified just because
they had the bad luck to cross paths with us.”
This is exactly my point. “What
is it about the two of us?” Come on, Sam,
I already explained this. She nods
sadly and sighs. “We’re cursed.” We sit in companionable silence while Sam
mulls the whole concept over. “So, is
there any way…?”
“To get around
it? Not that I’ve found.” Believe me, I’ve tried.
“Well, I was just
thinking that maybe I should’ve…you know...made history. I mean maybe that would negate the
curse.” Sam gives a despairing shake of
her head. “Or maybe the colonel’s right
and I just need to get a life.”
“Personally, I think
it’s safer for everyone if I just don’t….
Just don’t,” I say. Hate to
admit it but…. “I think I’ve done
enough damage to the female population of….”
“That’s it!” What?
“Narim and Martouf were aliens.
I know—they were human, only partially in Martouf'’s case, but they were
alien. And Orlin was completely
alien. Maybe the curse wouldn’t apply
to humans from earth.”
“Doesn’t help me,” I
sigh. “But…give it a shot. What have you got to lose?” Besides another boyfriend that is. Sam gives a somewhat bitter laugh.
“Right. Only one small problem. Aliens seem to be the only ones interested
in me lately,” Sam says ruefully.
“That’s not true. I can think of at least one person right on
this base.” Uh oh—I’ve got
incoming. Sam’s eyes shoot twin warning
flares. “Such as Lt. Simmons.” So I’m a coward. “He was pretty interested.”
I don’t know why I feel compelled to point this out. It’s not like Sam doesn’t already know.
“Now, see—that just
brings up all the problems with military regs and fraternization and sexual harassment….” Sam shakes her head. “It’s not worth it. I’ll just keep the standing Friday night
date with my lab.”
“Could be worse.”
Right, like we could be dead or goa’ulded.
“Don’t get me wrong,
Daniel. I’m happy with my life. I love what I do. I’ve got the best job in the world. I have family and great friends.
It’s enough. Hell, it’s more
than enough—it’s good.” Sam’s shoulders
slump after this impassioned declaration.
“I just…sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone to share it
all with.”
“Of course, there is
the problem of sharing when you can’t actually share….” I gesture around Sam’s lab. “A big chunk of our lives are classified.”
“I’d definitely need
someone who’s very understanding.”
“Or someone who works
here.” Hey, it’s just a suggestion.
“Then we’re back to
the whole military thing.”
“There are civilians
here, too.”
“None of whom have
shown the slightest interest in me.
God, that sounds pathetic.”
Sam’s disgusted with herself.
“I’m not pathetic.”
“No, absolutely not,”
I reassure her. Mean it, too.
“Is it so much to ask
for? Just a nice steak dinner,
interesting conversation, a few laughs…and maybe, just maybe, make a little
history?” This sounds familiar. “Holy…that’s…that’s SG-1’s night out!”
“Well, except for the
making history part.” As far as I know.
“The colonel and
Teal’c are off limits,” Sam bristles. “Military and alien.”
“And I’m cursed.”
“Oh, wow, I just had a
thought.” Sam has an absolutely
horrified look. “Can you imagine what
would have happened if we’d ever…. If
we’d felt that way about each other?
With both of us cursed….”
“I’d be dead.” Well, it’s not like it hasn’t happened
before.
“And I’d be a
goa’uld.” Sam ponders the
possibilities. “Maybe the curses would
cancel each other out?”
“I suppose that’s
possible, but I suspect they would combine into something even greater than the
sum of their parts. One kiss and half
the population of North America would spontaneously combust.” Sam can’t help the chuckle bursting out at
what I know is a pretty woeful look.
“You know, if it
weren’t for the curse, and…stuff, I would’ve put the moves on you a long time
ago.” I know Sam’s just trying to make
me feel better. It’s…sweet. And somehow unnerving.
“Moves? You have moves?” I’m shocked. I’m
stunned. I’m jealous.
“I had moves,” Sam
insists. She frowns, concentrating,
trying to pull up some distant memory.
“At some point I’m sure I had moves.”
“I don’t remember
moves. I don’t think I ever had
them.” Big admission there. Everyone already knows I’m hopeless at that
kind of interpersonal interaction.
Throw me halfway across the galaxy to make nice with the natives and
I’ll muddle through. Put me in a room
with a beautiful woman and, let’s face it, if she doesn’t make the first move
the encounter will never be more than G rated.
Even poor Sha’re had to throw her half naked body at me before I even
got a hint of a clue. “Not sure I’d
even recognize them if you tried.”
“You mean you weren’t
the varsity football team captain, nailing everything in a skirt under the
bleachers.” Whoa, no…what? They did stuff like that? In high school?
“Ah, no,” I manage to
stammer out. “Too small, too skinny,
too shy. And then there’s the whole
four-eyes thing. College was better.” Much better. “More girl geeks.”
“I was a girl geek,”
she confides. Don’t take this wrong
but—I could’ve guessed. “What’s worse—I
was a military brat geek.”
“I was an orphan
geek,” I say confidently.
“You win,” Sam
concedes. She smiles softly. “Too bad I didn’t meet you in college. Who knows what might have happened.”
“You wouldn’t have
given me a second thought,” I argue. I
know this. Sam’s eyes would have slid
right over me and never even registered my presence. She may have been a geek but she was a self confident, attractive
geek. She’s the kind of person people
notice. I, on the other hand, learned
at an early age how to become invisible, and I tended to stay invisible even
when getting noticed would have been a good thing. In fact I tended to become visible only at times when it was a
bad thing. Like arguing my theories
with students, teachers…even the librarian.
It didn’t matter. I…had a big
mouth. So, okay, Sam might have noticed
me but not in any positive way.
Besides…“You were hard science, I was ‘soft’ science.”
“Yeah, there is that,”
Sam acknowledges with a comical grimace.
Well, duh. It’s like night and
day, black and white, Capulets and Montagues.
We’d be not so much star-crossed as two meteors on a collision
course. Talk about the big bang.
“You, on the other
hand….”
“Right,” Sam
snorts. Normally not an attractive move
for a woman but Sam manages to pull it off with a certain charm. And I’m serious here.
“Smart, funny,
attractive….” I know how it is, really,
I know. But Sam knows, too. I don’t really have to spell it out for
her. “If it weren’t for the borderline
incestuous aspect, you’re exactly the kind of woman I would have been honored
to share my life with.”
“Excuse me?” Jack’s familiar voice exclaims from the
doorway. “Is there something the two of
you want to tell me?” Both Sam and I
ignore Jack.
“Thank you,” Sam says
softly. “That’s the sweetest
non-proposal I’ve ever gotten.” I can’t
help it. I love her—in a strictly
non-’history’ making way. I lean in and
kiss her blushing cheek. She
understands…and I think I’ve helped her feel a little better. At least for a brief moment. Behind me is a strange gurgling, choking
noise. Yeah, about Jack…. I pitch my voice to be certain he’ll
hear.
“Don’t worry, Sam,
this will be our secret.” She grins
mischievously at me. Jack baiting has
become a tag team sport.
“Thanks, Daniel. I knew I could count on your discretion.”
“All right, that’s
just about enough of that,” Jack growls.
I turn around all wide-eyed surprise.
“Jack?”
“Don’t ‘Jack’ me,” he
says shaking his finger at me as he walks over to the other side of Sam. I have no doubt Jack has been lurking around
waiting for the opportunity to check on her.
He watches over all of us like some sort of broody hen. But whereas he’ll barge right in and smother
me with TLC O’Neill style, he always waits for someone else to start the ball
rolling with Sam. He won’t do anything
that might compromise her position. The
possibility that someone might see them alone together in a comforting (i.e.
compromising) position keeps him at arm’s length. Of course, Sam knows even better than Jack how even talk can ruin
a woman’s career so it’s unlikely she’d allow anything even remotely suggestive
even if Jack forgot himself. All in all
its just part of our team ‘dance’. The
way we’ve learned to work together.
Jack waits until I’ve started the heart to heart before he stops in to
do his ‘duty’ as team leader with me as chaperone. “What are the two of you up to?”
“Discussing our love
lives.” Jack’s jaw drops in shock. I’m hurt.
I mean, I know it’s…unlikely, but does he have to look so surprised? “We do have them,” I insist. “Ah…had them.”
“Potentially had
them,” amends Sam. Jack looks at the
two of us like we’ve lost our minds.
“We’re cursed, sir.”
“I don’t believe in
curses,” Jack snaps out automatically.
“All of my…they end up
with snakes in their heads. And all of
Sam’s potential…you know…they’re dead.”
Refute that evidence, Colonel ‘It’s not denial if I know you’re wrong’
O’Neill.
“Anyone who gets close
to me…grim reaper time,” Sam confirms.
“Oh, for
crying….” You can almost see the gears
turning. Jack sidles a little closer to
Sam and drops his voice. “Uh, Carter….”
“Don’t worry,
sir. I didn’t let you nearly close
enough.”
“Good.” Okay…just give Jack’s brain a second to
reboot here. Four…three…two…. “Uh, Carter?” Jack’s sense of relief has just been punctured by the sneaky idea
that just maybe he’s been…not so much insulted as demoted to second team.
“Drop it. Sir.”
Good advice, Jack, you might want to take it. Once again he proves that he’s not nearly as dumb as he acts. He pretends the previous few seconds never
happened and returns to something he can vent safely about.
“If you would just
listen to me and get a life!”
“That’s the whole
point, sir. If we get a life….”
“Someone else loses
theirs,” I finish. Jack just stares at
us, mouth agape.
“Jesus jumped up
Christ in a sidecar!” Jack stalks back
to the other side of the room. “Well,
no damn wonder with Major Depression and Dr. Disaster here!” Sam gets that ‘I’m going to be very patient
because this is Col. O’Neill I’m dealing with’ face.
“We’re just being
realistic.”
“It’s not pessimism if
the glass is empty, Jack.”
“What?!” We’ve got Jack angry, frustrated and
confused now. I know just how to take
it that one step farther and push him over the edge. And while that has provided hours of entertainment in the past, I
think this time, in deference to Sam’s emotional state, it would be better to
de-escalate.
“It’s a simple matter
of threat assessment.” Nope, by the
look on his face he’s not buying my appeal to his military training.
“We’re going to be old
maids,” Sam announces. Apparently
that’s her final comment on the subject as she promptly returns to her
laptop. Jack gives her a disgusted
scowl. Then he turns slowly to me with
the oddest expression…and I know. I
just know he’s picturing me as…I don’t know.
Auntie Mame. Or Marge Simpson’s
sisters maybe. Either way he’d better
just get that picture right out of his head.
I may wear robes when the situation calls for it but I don’t do drag. For anyone.
“Come on.” Amusement—at my expense—still twinkles in
Jack’s eyes, but his voice has gone quiet and his smile is gentle. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll throw some steaks on the grill and
kick back.” Sam darts a knowing glance
at me. “Or maybe you’d prefer burgers?”
“I suppose it’s the
best life we can hope for,” I say to her.
“Hey, at least its ‘a’
life,” grumbles Jack. Sam gives a small
nod and logs off. “Good,” says Jack
smugly, happy now that we’ve catered to his paternal impulses.
“I’ll just…go get
Teal’c,” I offer.
“Cool,” says
Jack. He stands at the door, waiting
for Sam. He doesn’t trust her to
actually leave her lab voluntarily. As
I walk out the door I hear Jack clearing his throat. “Hey, Carter, sorry…you know…about Narim.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Look, give me a ten
minute headstart, okay? I got stop and
pick up some beer for Dr. ‘I won’t drink it if it’s not European and black as
bog water’ Jackson.” Jack says this
just loud enough to insure that I’ll hear him.
“Don’t forget the
kosher dills for Teal’c,” I call back over my shoulder, knowing Jack is out of
the loop on Teal’c’s latest culinary fixation.
“Kosher?” Jack’s
puzzled voice follows me. “Hell, I
didn’t even know he was Jewish.” I
don’t have to look back to know that Jack has his ‘me no rocket scientist’ face
on, and Sam is looking at him with indulgent amusement. It’s a strange dance we do, I’ll grant you
that. Inane, insane, irrational, and
often incomprehensible to the rest of the world. What can I say?
It works for us.
© January 2002 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.