Title: Weirdly ever after
Author’s Notes: Megadisclaimers and notes available in Chapter I, pt i. No afterglow for the wicked, sorry Sam!

Chapter II: Oblah di Oblah DOH!
Pt. ii of v in this chapter (Still PG, but Naked Sam for a limited time as a lure to smut cravers)
Sam moaned groggily, her subconscious registering Jack’s absence in a dream about a mission on a particularly cold and damp planet. She flopped on to her back, confused, and frankly annoyed, by the sudden spaciousness of the bed. Her hand lashed out, blindly searching for him.

Reluctantly rolling on to her stomach, she pushed herself up on her elbows. She was about to call out to him when she suddenly noticed the sweep of multicolored lights across the wall. Police! She thought, suddenly panicked. She rolled instinctively to the side of the bed and yanked open the drawer of her nightstand, groping inside for her handgun. The drawer, of course, was empty. Not only was she not at home, she recalled, but even years after what had happened to Charlie, Jack would be unlikely to keep any firearm unsecured.

Shit! She hissed silently, as she looked down at her naked torso. No Jack. No weapon. No clothes. And cops. Good morning, Sam!

Prioritizing, Sam decided to tackle the issue of clothing first. Swinging her legs to the floor, she padded noiselessly over to the pile of clothing behind the door. Her dress was still on the couch, as far as her cobwebbed brain could recall, and hardly appropriate to the situation anyway. She reached into the basket and pulled out a thankfully clean t-shirt. Slipping it on, she searched for the smallest pair of jogging pants she could find and cinched the drawstring tight.

She crept along the hallway silently, trying to distinguish words from the sudden din below. It sounded like the place was positively swarming with cops. As she neared the top of the stairs, she gradually realized that they were engaged in a room-to-room search of the lower floor.

What is going on? She wondered. And where the hell is Jack? Realizing they were going to find her eventually, Sam stepped around the corner into view at the top of the stairs.

“My name is Major Samantha Carter,” She called out clearly, raising her arms and keeping them visible as she slowly descended the stairs, “I’m with the US Air Force. I’d like to know what’s going on.” Sam kept her gaze level as a number of uniforms whirled and leveled their weapons at her.

“Detective Barnes!” A fresh-faced uniform called over his shoulder, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. A tall, lanky middle-aged man in a suit hustled in from the deck. The cop gestured toward Sam with the barrel of his gun. “She was upstairs. Says she’s with the Air Force.”

“I am with the Air Force,” Sam snapped. “And you should know that anything that’s going on here is quite probably a matter of national security.”

“I see,” Barnes said skeptically eyeing her clothing, “And how is it that a retired Colonel’s smoke and mirrors act affects national security?”

“Smoke and mirrors?” Sam asked, her eyes darting around the living room. All Jack’s shoes were still neatly lined up on the mat, hers next to them. His keys were still in the dish on the entryway table. Wherever he’d gone, it hadn’t been under his own power.

“Yeah, we’re having a nice conversation and suddenly: Poof!” The detective watched her carefully, “You know anything about that, miss?”

“It’s major.” Sam ground her teeth. “And I’m not at liberty to say anything more. I need to make a phone call. If you’ll let me do that, I think we can clear this up quickly.”

Barnes snorted, “You think the military can make two bodies---those two bodies---just go away?”

“Bodies?” With every revelation, Sam grew more desperate to be on her way to the SGC to start clearing this mess up. “Listen, Detective, if Colonel O’Neill has anything to do with this, the Air Force already knows about it. They’ve probably got their people on their way here now. Now if you let me make that phone call, you just might not have your investigation crawling with military.”

Barnes looked annoyed, “Cole, accompany the Major while she makes her phone call.”

Sam stepped toward the kitchen. The young cop lowered his weapon and held out a hand, “Uh . . . mi . . . ma’a . . . major? You can’t make that call.”

“Why not?” Sam scowled impatiently.

“He took the phone,” He said, as if still amazed by this.

“He what?”

“When he . . . um . . . when he ‘Poof’-ed? He had the phone.” He explained sheepishly.

Sam rolled her eyes. “My purse is on the table in the hall. I have a cell phone in there. I’m just going to get that, ok?” She said calmly, slowly moving toward it.

“I’ll do that!” Cole yelped, raising his weapon again nervously.

“Fine. Just, hurry. Please.” Sam motioned toward the evening bag as it began to play the theme from Close Encounters. At the same moment, Barnes’s partner entered from the yard. He held his hand over the mouthpiece of a cell phone as they conferred in hushed tones.

“Officer,” Sam said slowly, “That phone call is probably important. In all likelihood it’s one of my superiors. I really need to answer it.”

Cole’s eyes shifted from Sam to the huddled detectives. He decided that letting Sam answer the phone was less dangerous than interrupting. He fumbled open the bag and handed the cell phone to her, his weapon still wobbling in her direction.

Sam flipped open the phone, “Carter,” she barked into the mouthpiece.

“Sam! Don’t hang up. I guess Jack’s kinda pissed off, but we really . . . we’re really . . . this is just great. Now if you can just let us know a few things. Did you drive to Jack’s last night, or go in his truck?” Daniel’s rapid chatter was clashed with the grim atmosphere of a house swarming with cops.

“Daniel. Shut up and listen to me,” Sam cut him off, speaking low and urgently. “The police are at Colonel O’Neill’s and he’s missing. I think he’s visit ing our friends up north. You need to get Hammond on this now,” She noticed the two detectives turning toward her. They did not look pleased. “And my first born to you if you’ll bring me some clothes!” she managed to add just before Barnes’s partner yanked the phone from her hand.

“O’Neill?” He snapped into it.

“No . . .,” Daniel said, then added with unfailing politeness, “This is Dr. Daniel Jackson. Who is this? May I please speak to Major Carter again?”

“Not unless you come down to the police station, pal,” the detective grunted snapping shut the phone and turning to Sam, “Which is exactly where you’re headed, miss.”

“It’s Major,” Sam repeated in tones reserved for small children, “And on what grounds?”

“On the grounds, Major,” Barnes spoke up, “That a witness saw a woman fitting your description fleeing the second crime scene last night.”

“What time last night?” Sam demanded.

Barnes glared her way, annoyance showing on his face as Sam stared him down. He broke first and glanced at his notebook, “Witness says approximately 11:30 PM.”

“Both the Colonel and I were in a restaurant, surrounded by dozens of people at that time,” Sam shot back. “Call the restaurant. Or let’s go door to door. Several of Colonel O’Neill’s neighbors were there for his retirement party.” She folded her arms.

“Listen, lady, I’ve had about enough of you.” Barnes shook his finger at her. Sam resisted the urge break his entire arm. “I don’t care where you were when. O’Neill’s fingerprints are all over that crime scene and you were the last person to see him. That means you’re the guest of Colorado Springs’ Finest for the near future.” He motioned to his partner. “Diaz, call ahead. Tell them we’re bringing her in.”

Sam grit her teeth. Looks like I’m going for a ride, she thought, glancing down at her bare feet, then over toward her heels on the mat. She sighed, Sweats and heels. It’s a look.

Continue on to Chapter II, part iii