trinkets7

Trinkets: Disjointed Tolerance
By
Denise

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

"You found her?" Daniel asked, skidding around the threshold of the locker room door.

"How is she?" Daniel asked, still breathing hard from the dash from his office where he'd been working when he'd gotten word.

"Major Carter's injuries are severe, however I do not believe that they are life threatening," he answered.

"How bad?" Daniel asked, hating the fact that he hadn't been able to go with Jack and Teal'c to look for Sam. In many ways, he felt like he was deserting her by coming back to the SGC where he was safe and warm while she was out there struggling to survive. And dealing with the Tok'ra and Jaffa certainly hadn't helped his frustration level any.

"The Alpha Site's toast," Jack said, shrugging off his vest and hanging it into his locker. "Reynolds is going to make one more sweep before we abandon it. We'll send Prometheus back sometime to retrieve the gate."

"That's it," Jack said, sitting down to untie his boots. "Anubis knows about it, which means the other goa'uld will too. Planet's not safe." He looked up at Daniel. "How's Jacob?"

Jack nodded. "Hammond and I need to go over the casualty list before we brief the others. You wanna let Jacob know in case he wants to join us."

"You're not going to come down to the infirmary?" Daniel asked, surprised. Usually when one of them were injured Jack preferred to stay close, most of the time annoying the heck out of Janet until he knew that his friend was going to be ok.

Jack shook his head, kicking off his boots and reaching for his towel and shower kit. "I'll just be in the way."

He walked into the shower room and Daniel stared after him for a few seconds before turning to Teal'c. "What's that all about?"

"Excuse me?" Daniel asked, insanely wondering if he'd descended into some odd alternate universe. Jack always had a soft spot for Sam. Had since, well not quite since their first mission, he thought. If he had to pick a specific time Daniel always thought that those few days the two of them had spent marooned in Antarctica was some sort of turning point. Something happened there, maybe even something that Sam and Jack didn't even realize had happened.

But Daniel had noticed after that mission, their relationship had changed. Both of them had an almost spooky awareness of each other. Something that had only grown after all four of them had been trapped on P3R118. They'd grown so close that, right before he'd Ascended, Daniel remembering him and Teal'c making a bet about whether or not the Jack and Sam would finally make it official.

"Major Carter's preferences are for O'Neill to limit himself to the role of her commanding officer. As such, he has fulfilled his obligations in retrieving her from the Alpha Site," Teal'c said evenly, his words noncommittal but his eyes conveying a hidden meaning.

"I missed something while I was gone, didn't I?" Daniel asked the sense of being the outsider assailing him. Even after months of being back, there were still times when he felt less a part of the group and more a tolerated guest.

"Yeah," Daniel said. "We really gotta work on catching up on things." He realized that Teal'c was waiting to take a shower. "I'm gonna go check on Sam."

Daniel left the locker room and made his way back down the hall, heading towards the infirmary. Thank God she was alive. He'd been so worried ever since word of the attack had come yesterday morning. When he closed his eyes, he could still see the near total devastation that the self-destruct had wrought. For the first time in his life, he knew what 'blown to bits' meant.

Daniel entered the infirmary and was instantly reminded that Sam hadn't been the only casualty. He knew that a lot of the less severely injured had already been treated and released or transferred to the Academy Hospital, but a few of the beds were still occupied with patients.

Sam, he knew, wouldn't be getting transferred, especially if her injuries weren't life threatening, Jolinar's lasting legacy demanded that Sam's medical care always come from those with the appropriate security clearances. And that was easiest to accomplish right here.

"Jacob," he said, catching sight of Sam's dad in one corner of the room. "How is she?" Daniel asked as he got closer. He felt the need to lower his voice in the presence of the other patients. He had no way of knowing how many of them weren't going to be getting good news about their friends. In fact, if the body count was correct, this attack was going to go down as one of the SGC's bloodiest days since its inception.

Jacob shrugged. "Ok, I guess. Doctor Frasier took her to the OR almost as soon as she got here."

The older man looked slightly frazzled and Daniel sighed, realizing just how hard the past twenty-four hours had been on him.

"Janet's the best there is," Daniel reassured him. "She'll take good care of her." Jacob nodded, clearly not believing him. "When was the last time you ate?" Daniel asked.

"What?" Jacob looked at him and it was clear that he had barely perceived Daniel's words.

"The lecture I always got was 'you can't heal if you don't eat'," Daniel said. "Let's go grab something." Jacob hesitated. "We'll make sure they know where we are. I doubt Janet will have any news in the next twenty minutes anyway," Daniel said.

Jacob shook his head. "I should stay-" Teal'c walked into the room and Jacob perked up, obviously interested in possibly finding out what the Jaffa knew.

"Teal'c," Daniel said quickly, motioning his friend over. "Jacob and I were going to get something to eat. Would you like to join us? Maybe you can fill Jacob in on what we missed."

"I would be honored," Teal'c said. "The commissary would perhaps be a more appropriate setting for the recounting of the tale than the infirmary." Daniel smiled slightly, grateful that Teal'c's words supported his own. Maybe they weren't quite as disconnected as he thought.

Daniel led them out of the infirmary, taking a moment to let the nurse on duty know where they were going. It took them only a few minutes to reach the commissary and get in line. It was the middle of the afternoon, too late for lunch and too early for dinner, so the room was mostly empty.

All three of them simply grabbed a snack, Daniel a couple cookies and a mug of coffee, Jacob a dish of ice cream and Teal'c a thick slice of cake, before they claimed a table in the far corner.

"We tracked Major Carter and the Kull warrior for several miles. At times, it appeared that she escaped its notice as their tracks diverged, however it always reacquired its target," Teal'c said.

Daniel absently picked the cookie apart as he listened to Teal'c speak and noticed that Jacob's ice cream was melting , his hand lingering on the spoon. "The Kull warrior fired upon one of the unmanned aerial surveillance vehicles. O'Neill and I, presuming that if we found the Kull warrior we would either find Major Carter or eliminate the threat to her person, journeyed to the place whence the vehicle had crashed. Once close we heard an explosion."

"Indeed. We did not possess sufficient time to confirm her actions, however O'Neill believes that Major Carter attempted to use the rocket on the UAV as a weapon to disable the Kull warrior."

"It did not. Unfortunately the armor of the Kull warrior is able to withstand a rocket impact. It did, however, serve to lead us to her position. We then engaged the Kull warrior and, using the power supply that Major Carter possessed, eliminated it."

"Indeed. The weapon is most effective when using the new power source," Teal'c confirmed.

"How was Sam when you found her?" Daniel asked, desperate for some information about his friend.

"Her most severe injury appeared to be to her leg," Teal'c said. "She did not remain conscious long after we found her, however I believe that is due more to exhaustion than a serious medical condition."

Jacob closed his eyes, his face paling a bit. "The self destruct tossed us around like toys," he said. "It's a miracle she wasn't crushed under some tree."

"O'Neill termed it, 'banged up'," Teal'c said. "However I have seen many battle field injuries. I have great faith in Major Carter's ability to recover from this incident."

"I should get back down there," Jacob said, abandoning the melted mess that was now his ice cream.

Daniel hurried from the commissary wondering what the heck was going on that General Hammond would need to see him about.

M'Zel and Delek left the briefing room and George watched them go, the enormity of what had just happened sinking in.

"General, there has to be something that we can do," Doctor Jackson said, expressing the frustration that George had to keep hidden.

"Quite frankly, Doctor Jackson, they need us more than we need them," George said, getting to his feet. "Many of the rebel Jaffa are on tretonin, which they can only get from us."

"We will use their medical need to keep the lines of communication open," George countered. "Doctor Jackson, the events of the past forty-eight hours have been very trying on all involved. It's possible that, once passions cool, they'll reconsider their position."

"We'll deal with that when and if it becomes an issue. Right now, I have another problem for you to deal with." George dug into his pile of messages and pulled out three slips of paper. "The switchboard has received three phone calls for Major Carter from Detective Shanahan. Up to this point, we've returned none of them since we had no news to report. However, now that we do I would imagine that the detective would like to know her condition."

Daniel took the papers, staring at them for a few seconds. "Aah, what do I tell him, sir?"

"Nothing beyond the fact that Major Carter was injured in the line of duty and that once she's released to go home she'll be able to contact him."

"I don't care what he likes," George said bluntly. "He's damn lucky he's not in jail for running that background check on Major Carter, not to mention interfering in the stakeout." George sighed. "However, since he is Major Carter's friend, he does deserve to know about her situation."

"Thank you," George said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to brief my superiors on what just happened." George retreated into his office and shut the door. This phone call was going to be enough of a fiasco; he did not need more witnesses to the carnage.

Jack edged into the infirmary, shoving his hands into his pockets as he caught sight of Jacob sitting beside Sam's bed. Jack had received word as to her condition about an hour ago and knew that she would be ok, with time. But he felt the need to check for himself. And that need overrode his personal sanction.

"She'll be ok," Jacob said. "Doctor Frasier says it's mostly cuts and bruises, maybe a concussion. No internal injuries, which is good. She just couldn't stitch up the gash in Sam's leg so that'll take a while to heal," he rambled, one hand unconsciously caressing hers, his fingers carefully skirting the edges of the burns.

Jack nodded, the man's words matching the report he'd read. Exhaustion, dehydration, blood loss coupled with the trauma of being way too close to a self-destruct. All which led to a rather banged up woman who was going to need some time and TLC to recover.
"You know, she led that thing on a merry chase, all things considered," Jack said.

"That's what Teal'c said," Jacob looked over to him, motioning for Jack to take a seat. "What few details he went into," he fished.

Jack sighed, aware of what the man was wanting and he wrestled with himself. He knew that Jacob was hungry for details, but did a father really need to hear just how close his daughter had come to dying? Yes, he did. "The thing had her in its sights when we got there," Jack said. "I can only guess that she fired the missile at it, missed and didn't realize until it was too late. Teal'c and I got the power source from her, killed the Kull warrior and that was the ball game," he said, minimizing things a bit. Yeah, he needed to know the details, just not ALL the details.

Jacob nodded. He reached for the bedside table and picked up a small item. "You know, I gave this to her for Christmas last year," he said, holding up the slightly battered multi-tool. Jack recognized it as something Sam had been carrying around with her off world. He'd never gotten around to asking her exactly where it'd come from, presuming that she'd just picked it up for herself. "I don't know if it's good or bad that I can shop for my kid in a hardware store."

Jack chuckled. "Well, it does make it a bit easier," he said, refraining from telling the man that sometime Sam wanted nothing more than to be treated like a girl, no matter how much she also liked being treated like one of the guys. She liked getting flowers or chocolates and her favorite thing to do after a long hard mission was to soak in a hot bubble bath for about an hour while reading a cheap dime store romance novel.

Sam stirred slightly and Jack stiffened. He couldn't let her see him sitting here. "Look, I gotta go take care of some stuff," he said, getting to his feet. "Hammond says you can have a VIP room if you want it. Just let Frasier know."

"You and Selmac get tired of living in tunnels, you're welcome to come home," Jack offered. "I even have a spare room," he quipped.

Jacob chuckled, his smile quickly fading. "I need to get back out there," he said, looking up at Jack. "Maybe I can pick up a few of the pieces."

"Yeah," Jack said, acknowledging that Jacob was doing what his duty bid him to. "Iris is always open," he said.

Jack turned and left the infirmary making his way down the hall, sighing as the exhaustion finally settled in. It'd been a long day, a long two days to be more accurate. He was beyond grateful that they'd found Sam alive, and more than a little aware that they'd been lucky, so very, very lucky. They lost a lot of good people today. More than they'd ever lost at once, in fact more than the SGC usually lost in a year.

"Jack?" Jack turned around catching sight of Daniel as he jogged to catch up with him. "How's Sam?"

"Jacob's with her. She'll be ok," Jack said. "Why aren't you at home? It's late."

"Late for you too," he countered. "I was on my way there but I have to do something first." Daniel held up some slips of pink paper. "Pete's been calling. General Hammond wants me to call him and let him know about Sam."

"She's still seeing him?" Jack asked coming to a stop in the hall. Daniel kept walking for a couple of feet then stopped too, turning back.

"Apparently. Anyway, I need to figure out what to tell him, that won't get me shot for treason," he finished ironically.

"You so are not. You start to ramble." Jack sighed and glanced down at the slips glad to see that Shanahan's number was listed. He really was in no mood to dig into his file for it. "Go home," he said. "I'm gonna do this and I'll go home too," he said quickly.

Daniel left him alone in the hall and Jack sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. He still didn't see Sam's fascination with the cop. Sure, on the surface he seemed a nice enough guy and all, and he did make her hum, but if Jack had been told to choose someone to pair Sam up with, it wouldn't have been a cop, and it wouldn't have been someone shorter than she was either.

He snorted, the irony of the situation settling in. Yeah, if he had to choose someone to pair her up with that someone woulda been a lot taller, like 6'2" and sure as hell wouldn't have been a cop.

The problem was, it wasn't his place to choose, it was hers. And she'd made her choice. She made her choice and he'd promised to respect it.

"Respect it," he muttered, resuming his trek down the hall. Yeah, he could respect it. What good was it to have rank if he couldn't do a favor or two for a friend.

Pete flipped through the magazine, his eyes darting from the printed page to the guards at the door and back down. He had to hand it to these guys, they knew their security. Then again, they were the military. Security was kinda their thing.

Sam stirred slightly and he looked up, wondering if she was going to wake up. She'd been asleep since he was escorted down here almost an hour before and he resisted the urge to wake her up.

He wanted to know that she was going to be ok and he needed to hear it from her because, to be honest with himself, she didn't look ok.

There was a large cut running down the left side of her face. She had numerous cuts and bruises on her arms and some odd burns on her hands. He understood from the doctor that there were worse injuries hidden by the blanket and he was driving himself nuts trying to figure out how she'd gotten them.

"Pete?" Sam opened her eyes, staring at him for a second before glancing around the room. "What are you doing here?"

"Colonel O'Neill called me," he said. "And got me a pass, although I don't think it works beyond that door."

Sam glanced at the door and the two guards flanking it. "I can't believe you're here," she muttered, reaching for the plastic cup on the bedside table. Pete picked it up and handed it to her.

"When you missed our date I left a few messages at your house. When you didn't answer those I tried here. Eventually Colonel O'Neill called me and told me what happened and arranged for me to get in."

"That you got hurt and that you'd be in here a day or two. And that's all I know," he said, remembering the menacing look on the man's face. "And I'm not supposed to ask you about it either. There was some mention about shooting---but I think he was kidding," Pete said, tamping down on the unease he felt. While he hoped the man had been kidding there had been a tone in the colonel's voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. A sort of quiet controlled menace that chilled him more than any loud threat.

Sam chuckled. "He was kidding. He hates the paperwork he has to fill out when he shoots people."

Pete looked up and saw a petite woman walking towards them. He remembered her from the last time he'd been here, except his and Sam's roles had been reversed. Well, not totally reversed, Sam didn't have to be escorted by armed guards everywhere she went. She was a part of this place. Welcomed, wanted. While he was regarded with suspicion and distrust. "Doc," he greeted, smiling at her.

"That's what they pay me for," she smiled. "Sam, we need to check your bandages. And I would imagine that you're in the mood to have something to eat," she said, her tone changing from welcoming to businesslike.

Pete saw a figure step inside the doorway and looked down at his watch. "Well, my time is up," he said remembering his bargain with Colonel O'Neill. The man had granted him an hour and it wasn't his fault that Sam had slept through most of it. "Why don't I go and let you get to that doctor stuff." Pete got to his feet, remembering the magazine as he stood. He held it out to Sam. "I bought this for you on my way in."

"Thanks. You really have to go?" Sam took the magazine and laid it on the covers.

"Great. Tell ya what. I have a butt load of vacation coming. Let me clear it with my boss, but I'm pretty sure I can come down and help out once you're home," he offered.

"You won't be very mobile for a while," the doctor said. "I was going to suggest that someone help you out or even that you stay with me for a few days."

"See," Pete said. "It's what boyfriends do," Pete persuaded. "And it's what you did for me when I got shot," he reminded.

Pete smiled. "Great. I'll talk to my boss and make the arrangements." O'Neill motioned with his hand, tapping his watch. "And now I really gotta go." Pete leaned in and kissed Sam on the cheek. "I'll talk to you later."

Pete left the room hearing the doctor pull the privacy curtains closed behind him. He joined Colonel O'Neill in the hall and paused, waiting for his instructions. O'Neill waved the two guards away and motioned for Pete to follow him. "Thank you," he said, settling into step beside the man.

"Sure," O'Neill replied. He summoned the elevator and stood there, deliberately looking anywhere but at Pete.

"So, umm, the doctor said that Sam can come home in a couple of days," Pete said, feeling the need to fill the awkward silence between them.

"Sounds about right." O'Neill said, shoving his hands into his pocket. The elevator arrived and he stepped back, motioning for Pete to precede him. Pete stepped into the car and O'Neill followed him in, punching the button for level eleven.

"You don't like me do you?" Pete asked, voicing the suspicion he'd had since his first meeting with the man. Initially, Pete ascribed it to him messing up their stake out. That would make anyone mad. But that was a couple of months ago, O'Neill should have forgiven him by now.

O'Neill sighed and pushed a button, stopping the elevator. "Look, if it was up to me, you'd be behind bars for the crap you pulled on our stakeout. Not to mention the fact that you ran a background check on Carter, which does not exactly engender trust in my book."

"What do you think happens when you run background checks on personnel who are involved in top secret projects? Little alarm bells go off." O'Neill gestured with his hands. "Hammond got a report within the hour. So did a couple of dozen folks at the Pentagon. The President might even have got one."

Pete looked down, cursing the flush he felt creep up his face. "I shouldn't have done that," he said. "Sam kept putting me off with classified and wouldn't tell me anything. I thought she was joking and I was mad and…"

"Curious," Pete confirmed. "I mean, what could she be doing that's so secret inside a mountain in Colorado?"

"So, if you dislike me so much, what am I doing here?" Pete asked, steering the conversation back to the topic at hand.

"Carter likes you," O'Neill said, as if those three words explained everything. He pushed the button to release the elevator.

"Oh," Pete said, realizing just how tenuous his situation was. The car arrived at level eleven and they got out, quickly switching to the other elevator. Pete was content to ride in silence, preferring to say nothing than to further exacerbate the situation. They arrived at the surface and O'Neill stood by his side as Pete signed the forms to get his sidearm back and handed in his visitor's pass.

"Car's right over there," O'Neill said. "If you're gonna come back, call the switchboard. I'll let them know that you have access to the infirmary."

"I will, thanks. Colonel," he said as the man turned to go back down. "I am sorry about what I did before and…I really like Sam. I didn't mean to hurt her or get her in trouble."

O'Neill nodded skeptically. "What you do reflects on her. If you can't be trusted, she can't be trusted. Don't screw up her career because you can't keep your curiosity in check," he warned before turning on his heel and retreating into the elevator.

Pete stared after him for a second then became aware of the guard staring at him pointedly. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and got into his car more than a little relieved when he cleared the last checkpoint without incident.

Jack flipped through his reports, signing where he needed to sign and sorting the papers into three different piles. One to be passed onto someone else, one to be filed and one to be shredded. He sighed and looked at his watch, dismayed to notice that it was only 1335 hours. He still had half the damn day left.

Maybe he needed to talk to the general, see if he could tag along on a mission somewhere. There was nothing like a little off-world jaunt to fill up the day. He could even ask Teal'c, see if the Jaffa was as stircrazy as he was. The phone rang and Jack jumped, rolling his eyes as he answered it. "O'Neill."

"I just received the logs from the surface checkpoint. I see that Detective Shanahan was here this morning."

"Yes, sir. He visited Major Carter for an hour," Jack said, frowning as he set down his pen. "Is something wrong?"

Jack paused, the man's tone striking him as a bit off. "I didn't think you needed to be, sir. He's already aware of the project. He was taken to and from the infirmary only. I escorted him myself."

"Son, I appreciate that you want to aid in Major Carter's recovery, but regardless of the fact that Detective Shanahan knows about the SGC, I do not want him in my facility. In my opinion, his lack of control makes him a walking security risk. I have no choice but to trust the major's judgment in her personal life, but I will do what I need to to secure this command," Hammond declared.

"General, can he call?" Jack asked, knowing that Shanahan was going to ask for some sort of compromise.

Hammond sighed. "Might as well. The cat's already out of the bag on that." Hammond hung up the phone and Jack listened to the silence for a second before returning the receiver to is cradle.

"That's what you get for trying to do something nice," Jack muttered, leafing through the papers for Shanahan's number.

Sam limped down the hall, using the wall to carry the weight that her leg wouldn't. She gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the pain that accompanied each step. Was it comfortable? No. But it was bearable. And considering that the pain meds Janet had sent home with her tended to put her to sleep, she could deal. She was tired of sleeping. She also knew from experience that a speedy recovery was achieving that delicate balance between pushing too hard and making the injury worse and not pushing enough.

"Sam, you should have said something," Pete said, hurrying down the hall towards her, a dishtowel in his hand. "I could have helped you."

He made a move to pull her arm over his shoulder but she stopped him. "It's twenty feet down the hall to the bathroom," she said. "Not the New York Marathon."

"I know my limits," she said, making her way into the living room and onto her 'nest' as Pete called it.

After finding out that Pete's visitor's pass had been revoked, Sam had been surprised to come home a couple of days ago to find him waiting for her and still wanting to play nurse.

Since that time, he'd been absolutely wonderful. Her sofa now resembled a day bed complete with extra pillows and a down throw that worked wonders against the winter's drafts. He'd bought a tray table that slid under the edge of the sofa allowing her to eat and work with ease and had even stocked up on groceries. Pete was actually a good nurse, seeming to have this sixth sense for when she needed something.

"Well, yeah, I'm sure you do but-" Pete's cell phone rang and he reached for it, checking the caller ID. "I gotta take this," he said, flipping it open as he walked toward the kitchen. With the TV off and the house quiet, Sam couldn't help but over hear Pete's half of the conversation. "Look, JT, I already told you. It just won't work out this year. Yes, I'm still down in the Springs. I can't bring her, she's not up to it right now. Yeah, yeah, it was a car wreck. She's not up to company. Next year, definitely. Right, have a good time."

He came back into the living room, sliding his phone back onto his belt as he walked. "What was that all about?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I was gonna tell you about it on our date, but since that didn't happen." He shrugged. "There's always next year."

"Yes, you can. I'm fine and I don't need a babysitter all the time. And help is just a phone call away."

"Pete, it's been almost a week. You can go check your mail and water your plants and I'll be fine here." The more Sam talked about him leaving, the more the idea appealed. She loved that he'd taken time off of his job for her, but she also knew that he needed to take care of his own life as well.

"I won't take it. I wasn't going to anyway." She knew that her prescription bothered him. He knew enough about drugs to recognize a heavy-duty narcotic when he saw it, and assumed that she took such strong medication because she was in so much pain. What he didn't and couldn't know, was that she didn't take the strong drugs because the pain was so much but because, thanks to Jolinar, nothing weaker worked for her. Over the counter pain meds had about the same effect as a tic-tac. "Go, have fun," she urged. "I insist."

Pete smiled and gave her a kiss. "It makes it easy for me to grab your Christmas present anyway. How about I bring brunch by tomorrow?" he suggested. "Then we can make plans for the holidays."

"Right." Sam pasted a smile on her face, belated remembering that Christmas was next week. She wondered if she'd be able to talk her way onto the base and find something to do.

Fifteen minutes later Pete was pulling away from the curb and Sam leaned back on the sofa, realizing that this was the first time in a week that she'd been totally alone. It felt good, and about as comforting as when Pete had been here, waiting on her hand and foot.
A grin crept across her face. She could actually get some work done without dealing with Pete worrying about her overworking. She pushed herself up from the sofa and lurched down the hall, making her way to her den.

She turned on her computer and, while it booted up, moved around to make herself comfortable, tipping the empty trash can over to turn it into footrest for her leg.
Within minutes she was logging into her SGC account, happily wading through her e-mails and other reports that were waiting for her. This was so much better than vegging on the couch watching crappy TV.

Pete got onto the highway and set the cruise control on his car, settling back for the short drive to Denver. He felt guilty at leaving Sam. It just didn't seem right for him to head off to a party while she was stuck at home by herself. He did want to go to the party. They always had a great time. And he'd hoped to bring Sam with him this year. Finally let some of the guys at work get to meet her and, well, prove to some of them that she was real.

He wasn't nervous about her meeting them, in fact he knew that Sam could clean the floor with them. But he was a little nervous that she might find his friends a little weird. Cops were a different breed than Sam was used to. Cocky and irreverent and more than a little gruff. It was something his wife had never gotten used to, the unique sense of humor among his friends.

It really sucked that Sam was going to miss all the holiday fun. Christmas was Pete's favorite time of the year. He loved the lights and decorations and the whole atmosphere, and it was something he enjoyed even more in Colorado where white Christmases were much more the norm than back in California.

A thought occurred to him and Pete smiled, finally thinking of something he could do to help Sam recover beyond doing the dishes and cooking dinner. He reached for his cell phone and flipped through the address book, eager to set his plans into motion. "Hi," he said as soon as it was answered. "My name is Pete Shanahan, I'd like to leave a message for Colonel Jack O'Neill please. Yeah, I'll hold."

Jack sorted through his e-mail inbox, muttering under his breath as he deleted the usual quota of spam before settling down to the mail that he had to read. He rolled his eyes when he caught sight of Sam's name on one of the e-mails. "What took you so long?" he muttered, opening and scanning the mail. He knew that she was at home and wouldn't be back on even light duty for a few weeks, but he was a bit surprised that it'd taken her three days to get to her computer.

He should really stop by and check on her, make sure she was doing ok. And, any other time, he would have done that already. In fact, any other time, he, Daniel and Teal'c would probably be taking turns hanging at her house. But that was then and this was now. And now, Sam had someone else to fill that role.

He should feel happy for her. Glad that she had someone. She deserved it. Deserved a chance to be happy and to have a life. Hell, he'd taken her to task more than once about that very same thing.

His phone rang and Jack reached for it, closing out Sam's e-mail. He needed to have another cup of coffee before he decided to try and decipher it anyway. "O'Neill. Yeah, put him through," Jack said, wondering why Shanahan was calling him. He looked at the date stamp on the message. Sam had sent it less than half an hour ago. Something couldn't have happened that fast, could have it? "This is O'Neill," Jack said as soon as the connection clicked.

"What? Oh yeah, she's fine. Fine. Look, Colonel, I had an idea and I wanted to call you about it."

"What is it?" Jack asked, humoring the man. It sounded like he was on a cell phone, which probably accounted for Sam playing on the computer.

"Christmas is next week and Sam won't be up to doing anything this year. I was thinking maybe we could have a little get together at her place. Nothing big, nothing fancy, just…well just something to cheer her up," Pete enthused.

Jack paused for a second, not quite sure what to say. "Umm, Shanahan, Carter doesn't do Christmas."

"Not her," Jack said, not willing to violate Sam's trust in telling Pete precisely why she didn't practice the holidays. The story of Sam's mother's death was hers to tell, not his.

"I'm not talking about a big deal, just having some friends over, mainly you guys, something to eat, nothing fancy or extravagant. Hell, we can just order some pizzas and watch a movie."

"Yeah, she can't wait. How about six tomorrow night? You, Doctor Jackson and Teal'c. I'll take care of everything."

"Sure," Jack agreed, putting aside his misgivings. Maybe she really was loosening up on her whole no Christmas thing. If she wanted them to come over, they'd come over.

"Great!" Shanahan said. "I'll see you guys tomorrow night. Oh and Colonel, thanks."

Sam got out of the shower, balancing carefully on one leg while she dried herself off. She carefully slid on her underwear and t-shirt before perching on the edge of the toilet so that she could redress her leg. She could have called Pete in to help, but she didn't want to. She was enjoying doing things for herself.

She heard Pete milling around in the living room and she sighed, his presence part of her dilemma. She appreciated that he'd put his life on hold to come and take care of her. It was so sweet of him to do that. And it was certainly more than she'd done when he'd been shot. She'd visited him a couple of times and brought him dinner but really hadn't had time for anything else. Of course, she'd also been in the middle of trying to get the power supply to work for the weapon. And just hadn't been able to tell the colonel 'yes, sir I know this is important to the fate of the universe and all but my boyfriend has an owie'.

On the other hand, she was used to being on her own. Used to taking care of herself. She could feel her frustration growing every time he did the dishes or vacuumed the floor and she hated herself for bring so damned selfish.

He had to go back to work eventually. Surely she could find a way to hint at him that it was time for him to go. Anyway, if she needed something Janet and Daniel, heck even Teal'c or Jack could take care of it. Well, maybe not Jack. Jack didn't seem to want to have much to do with her lately. And Sam couldn't blame him. She'd put him in an awkward position to say the least.

There were times when she regretted her decision. Regretted pushing him away. Things had been different between them since then, cooler, tenser. Nothing that couldn't be dealt with, and, Sam didn't think, nothing that anyone but maybe Teal'c had noticed. In many ways, Daniel returning had been a blessing. Getting him settled in and back up to speed had distracted Jack from their situation.

It felt horrible to admit it, but she'd been surprised in one way that he and Teal'c had come after her. Not that they'd been searching. She'd expect no less. Even knowing that the SGC took care of its own, the power supply she'd been carrying was valuable enough to try and recover.

She'd been surprised and rather humbled to hear that coming after her had never been in question. That Jack was going to come and get her no matter what. She'd been so glad to see them.

Sam snorted. Hell, glad was an understatement. They'd saved her life, literally. Ten more seconds and she'd have been noting more than a corpse with a huge smoking hole in her chest.

They came after her. In spite of everything, they'd still come for her. Just like she'd known they would. That little fact is what had kept her running, even when she wanted to do nothing more than to simply curl up and go to sleep.

Through the bathroom door Sam heard the doorbell ding. "Sam! Dinner!" Pete called.

"Coming!" she yelled. She set the tape aside and reached for her pajama bottoms, struggling a bit to slid them up over the bandages. She rubbed the towel over her hair and finger combed out the worst of the tangles. Knowing that Pete had definitely seen her looking worse, Sam simply snagged her robe off the hook on the back of the door and left the bathroom.

She made her way into the living room, stopping short at the sight of five large pizza boxes sitting on her coffee table. "What the hell are you doing, feeding the army?" she asked Pete as he came from the kitchen, a stack of plates in his hands.

"No, just a chunk of the Air Force," he said, grinning as the door bell rang again. Sam stood there while he set down the plates and answered the door. It took her only a few seconds to recognize the voices.

Sam watched as Jack, Daniel and Teal'c filed into the room, all in their heavy coats and with packages in their hands. "Hey, Sam," Daniel greeted, leaning in to peck her on the cheek.

"It's a party," Jack said, looking her in the eyes. "Pete said that you knew all about it."

"I'm surprised," Sam said slowly. She could see the tension building amongst her friends. Daniel's eyes were darting back and forth between her and Pete while Jack sighed. Teal'c, as always, looked impassive, however Sam noticed his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Daniel, no," Sam interrupted. "You guys are here, the pizza's here, let's have a party," she said, smiling. She made her way towards the couch and sat down, her awkward movements making the guys shift out of her way. "For crying out loud, take your coats off and get comfortable," she urged. "We've got enough pizza here to feed ten people."

"I doubt that," Daniel said, shrugging off his coat and tossing it on the back of the sofa. "Have you seen how much Teal'c eats?"

"Got a beer?" Jack asked, also taking off his coat and tossing it on top of Daniel's.

Pete took the rest of the orders and retreated into the kitchen. "Carter?" Jack said softly. "We can go," he offered sincerely.

"I'm glad you guys are here," Sam reassured. "I've been going a little stir crazy," she confessed, touched by their offer. She knew why they were here, and it wasn't for pizza. They were here for her, because of her. And it was a gesture that touched her to the core.

"Your absence has been noted at the SGC, Major Carter," Teal'c said, accepting a plate of pizza from Daniel.

"Yeah, Siler's heartbroken," Daniel said. "And I think Graham Simmons is in mourning."

"Here we go, three beers, a water and a diet coke," Pete said, juggling the bottles as he came back into the room.

He stood there for a second and Sam realized that the four of them had arranged themselves as they usually did, Teal'c and Daniel in her two arm chairs and Jack beside her on the sofa. "Here," Jack said, getting to his feet. "Grab some pizza before Teal'c eats it all."

"Sit," Jack ordered. He stepped into the den and returned with a chair that Sam kept there. He positioned it across from her and sat down, picking up his plate of pizza. "So, Shanahan, don't suppose you're a sports fan?"

Jack unlocked his front door and walked inside, automatically reaching for the lamp he'd forgotten to turn on before he'd left earlier that evening. He tossed his keys on the table and put his coat in the closet.

He walked into his kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer out of the fridge, taking it out into his living room where he plopped down in his armchair. As evenings went, this one hadn't been the most uncomfortable he'd ever experienced, although it did rank up there.
He should have known that Shanahan was full of it when he'd said that Sam wanted the party. Little shit. Any other day he'd kick his ass for lying like that.

Jack sighed, taking a gulp of the beer. He couldn't kick his ass because, even as two faced as the invitation was, the man did have Sam's best interests in mind. He had to give him that much. He might be as graceful as a bull in a china shop, but his heart was in the right place. And Jack really did think that it had cheered Sam up a bit to have them there.

She hadn't been able to say too much with Shanahan in the room, but Jack suspected that she was having some issues with what had happened. Probably a few nightmares, which was to be expected.

The doorbell rang and Jack got to his feet, setting the bottle of beer on a table. He made his way to the front door and opened it to find no one there. A man in a brown uniform was jogging back to his truck and Jack looked down, realizing that the man had just dropped off a package.

Jack bent down and picked it up, turning it carefully over in his hands. He hadn't ordered anything. In fact, he didn't care to mail order stuff. He preferred to touch and feel and actually see what he was spending his money on.

Jack shut the door and took the package back inside, shaking it gently. It wasn't too heavy, just a couple of pounds. "What the hell?" he muttered, reaching into his pocket for his knife. He unfolded it and slit the tape on the box, opening it up.

He pulled out a block of Styrofoam and separated it, revealing a small statue of a horse. Frowning, Jack held it up, studying it closely. It was a white stallion standing on a stand of grass. The figure had two hooves off the ground and his mane and tail flowed back, making it look as though he was captured mid gallop. He almost looked alive, as alive as a twelve inch tall china statue could look anyway.

Jack set the horse down and explored the packaging, searching for some clue as to its origin. A note card was slipped into the box and he folded it open, reading the typed words.

Jack caressed the horse's back one more time before he picked it up, setting it on the place of honor on his mantle. He tucked the note card away into a drawer and kicked the box aside to be dealt with later.

Suddenly tired, he turned locked the doors and turned off the light, his singular goal to get himself a good night's sleep.