Title: Weirdly ever after

Email: [email protected], I dream of feedback!.

Author’s Notes: When I was a boy, we wrote long disclaimers that didn't go anywhere. Like the time I went to Abydos to get a new heel for m' shoe. I was wearing an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time . . . Fascinated? Full disclaimers and notes available in Chapter I, pt. i. For now, I've gotta get everyone back to the SGC and working on the case before someone else gets their brain taken out through their nose.

Chapter III: The "Mini-We" in Team
Pt. i of iii (so far) in this chapter (rated PG, with bit of gooey supply closet cuddling [cuddling in, not cuddling of])

Thor was nothing if not an Asgard of his word. O’Neill materialized in an SGC corridor not two feet from a fully dressed Carter. She fired orders at the SF who struggled along in her wake and very nearly ran smack into Jack as he appeared.

“Jack!” She breathed.

O’Neill’s eyes shifted toward the SF who, to his credit, almost entirely suppressed the instinctive eyebrow raise that was bound to accompany both his sudden appearance and Carter’s inexplicable use of his first name.

“Airman, round up General Hammond, Dr. Fraiser, and the rest of SG-1. Tell them to meet us in the briefing room in 10 minutes. I need to give Major Carter a heads up on some things. We’ll join them there shortly,” Jack barked with as much authority as possible for a half-naked, retired Colonel. Apparently that wasn’t saying much, as the SF remained rooted to the spot.

“Now-ish, Airman?” Jack added.

“Yes . . . sir!” The SF stuttered and bounded off.

Jack scanned the corridor. Seeing no one else about, he grabbed Sam’s elbow and yanked her toward a nearby supply closet. Confirming that he coast remained clear, he threw the door open and dove inside pulling Carter behind him.

Making good use of their momentum, Jack spun Sam around, pressing her back to the wall next to the door. He kissed her soundly, wrapping his arms around her waist. Without hesitation, Sam’s hands slid over his shoulders to entwine behind his neck.

Jack broke the kiss, laying his forehead against hers. “Ah, Sam,” he whispered, “I am so sorry. This is not how I wanted the morning after to be.”

Sam laughed a bit glumly, “Really? What did you have in mind?”

Jack hesitated, willing his eyes to adjust to the dark so he could read her expression, “Well for one thing, I wasn’t counting on being the only one with morning breath . . .” That got a heart-felt chuckle. He kissed her temple and continued, “Sorry, Sam. For not being there when you woke up.” He took a step back and hung his head.

“Well, what with the police swarming through your living room and the fact that you’d disappeared with nothing but the cordless phone, I kinda figured it was important.” Sam laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It is a bit elaborate for a ‘do and dash,’ I suppose . . .” Jack admitted with a smile.

Sam nodded, “And you’re just not that complex . . .”

“Hey!” Jack interjected.

She ignored him, “The part with me being dragged down to the police station in a Simpsons T-shirt, sweats and heels was the real giveaway.”

Jack gave her a smoldering look, “Beware the Eyes of Marge?”

“Homer sapien,” Sam rolled her eyes.

“Exxxcelllent . . .,” Jack suddenly lunged in for another fierce kiss.

“What was that for?” Sam asked a little breathlessly.

“Just picturing you in my clothes. Thor’s a dead . . . man. Thor is a ‘man’ . . . well, male, isn’t he?” Jack muttered.

“Thor? So it is the Asgard.” Sam was suddenly all business.

“Yeah.” Jack sighed. Realizing their belated pillow talk was at an end, he gave her a final kiss, then stepped away to alleviate temptation. “Up to their genetic hijinx again.”

“Loki?” Sam asked, incredulous. “Another clone?”

“Well, not so much a clone as a . . . test-tube baby. Messed up Asgard technology and . . . some other stuff.” Jack said, carefully. “And Loki claims it’s not him.”

“Test-tube baby? Whose?”

Jack braced himself, “Ours, Carter. It’s a Mini . . . We.”

Sam blinked and was silent for long enough that Jack was really beginning to worry. Suddenly she looked up at him and snorted. “I’m going to have to punch you for that eventually.”

Jack looked stoic, “I was prepared for that possibility.”

The trademark Carter furrow appeared over the bridge of her nose as Sam began mulling the situation over in earnest, “What would someone want with our combined genetic material? Especially if they’re using Asgard technology. They must know that they fixed it so that any construct built with your DNA is inherently unstable.”

“Thor seems to think that my mixing my cells with your cells they might have been trying to overcome that. Heimdahl thinks they don’t care---that they just wanted bits of you and bits of me combined and they’re actually counting on the Mini . . .”

“. . . don’t say it!” Sam warned.

“W . . .,” Jack reeled the last syllable back in, “Counting on her breaking down and disappearing after she’s finished their dirty work. They think she’s after MiniMe. Some crazy scheme about sucking the knowledge of the Ancients out of his brain.”

“She?” Sam looked startled.

“Yeah, it’s . . . weird. She’s a little older than Min . . . than the other O’Neill. Looks mostly like you, except brown eyes,” Jack gestured toward his own, then grimaced, “And my nose, which is really unfortunate.”

“I like your nose,” Sam said absently.

“Yeah, well you’re weird, Carter.” Jack smiled fondly, then snapped his fingers, “Oh! And she glows, which is kinda cool. And weird.”

“She glows?” Sam fairly shouted.

“Yeah, they were confused about that. Glows green . . . PDF something positive?” Jack mumbled, trying to call up the memory.

“GFP positive?” Sam asked. Jack touched his nose and she continued, “She’s a chimera!”

“Chimera? GFP? So all that means something to you?” Jack looked relieved.

“Yes, she’s not a . . . MiniWe. She’s more like Frankenstein’s We.” Sam shot him a warning glare and Jack suppressed a grin, “Full-blown traits from each of us grafted together.”

“And that’s different from a test-tube baby . . . how, exactly?” Jack watched as Sam drew in a deep breath and shifted into her scientist stance. He waved her off, “Never mind. I don’t really need to know. I’m just glad that this is making sense to you, at least. ‘Cause I thought I was gonna have to make Thor and Heimdahl arm wrestle when they got into it over their wacky theories. He said he’s beaming down some info into your computer or . .. whatever it is he does . . . so you don’t have to rely on my memory.”

Sam was only half listening as she processed what he’d told her so far. “Marking cells with GFP to track them, that’s like . . . basic arithmetic to the Asgard. That’s human genetic technology.”

“Human?” Jack’s face grew grim. “NID? ”

“Not sure. We’d better get to the briefing room and see if General . . .” Sam’s eye’s widened, “Ohmygod General Hammond!”

“Bald guy, right?” Jack quipped lamely, trying to derail what promised to be a real killjoy of a conversation.

“Jack. Be serious. You know what this means. He’s going to recall you to active duty. He has to, if only to keep the civilian authorities out of this.” Sam clutched the shoulders of Jack’s t-shirt.

“Yeah, I kinda figured. One of these times this retirement thing’s gonna take, I swear.” Jack covered her hands with his.

“We can’t . . . we need SG-1 together on this, and I just can’t . . .” Sam’s voice quavered.

“I’ll talk to him, Sam.” Jack gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. “Extraordinary circumstances. Well, even more than usual. We’ll figure it out.”

Sam took a deep breath, “Ok. Ok. You’re right.” She loosed her hands from his and straightened the jacket of her uniform. “We’d better get to the briefing room.”

Jack blocked her way as she stepped toward the door. “Sam, wait.” He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders, “I just want you to know that last night . . .” he faltered, at a loss for words.

She smiled and cocked an eyebrow, “Pretty great, huh?”

Jack nodded enthusiastically, “Extremely. Very. You betcha. Which is a huge relief.”

Sam laughed, “Oh yeah. Could’ve been a bust. After all that dangerous build-up.”

Jack’s hands slid down her arms, linking their hands together. “Very dangerous,” he murmured, looking her up and down. With difficulty, he wrenched his mind back to the current situation. Releasing her hands, he tugged his t-shirt further down in front, and coughed slightly, “And we’re ok about this morning? I mean, about the us part of this morning . . . you know nothing short of a murder rap and an Asgard kidnapping would’ve kept me from being there.”

Sam smiled, “We’re ok. Actually, I found this morning oddly reassuring.”

“Reassuring? That’s crazy even for you,” Jack scoffed.

“I mean it. It’s like . . . life . . . our lives---which are very strange---go on. I didn’t wake up with the urge to vacuum in high heels . . . you don’t have a fedora and briefcase by the front door. No slippers warming on the hearth.” Sam looked vaguely horrified at the images she was contemplating,. “As much as I want this,” She touched his chest, then her own, “It can’t be at the expense of the mission, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Jack said softly, his voice full of emotion. He kissed her forehead. “Now, we’d better get going if we don’t want Hammond to kill us immediately.” He yanked open the door and stepped into the hallway, turning toward the briefing room.

Sam followed a pace behind, “Um, sir . . .” Jack frowned, “Would you like to, maybe, get some pants first?”

Jack pivoted, “Good suggestion, Major. See you in 5 in the briefing room.” He stalked off in the opposite direction.

Sam called after him, “And some toothpaste!”

Without turning, he flipped her a one-fingered salute.

Continue on to Chapter III, part ii