Double Bind

Major Carter sighed as she flopped wearily down into her armchair, a mug of hot chocolate sitting next to her. Pulling her legs up under her, she curled into a ball and picked up her book. Snuggling down into the chair, she twitched the edges of her bathrobe closed, her fingers brushing her still damp hair.
SG-1 had had a tiring few days off-world, negotiating with a bunch of natives for the release of SG-7 in the sticky, sweltering heat of a tropical jungle, complete with mosquitoes that the colonel described as 'as big as sparrows, and twice as noisy'. Weary and in foul tempers, they had returned to the SGC, and had been given some much needed downtime.
Sam glanced at the clock.
2200 hours. She thought to herself. I'll read for an hour, then hit the hay. She had only just settled herself down to finish her book (ironically about an ex-CIA agent on the run from the Government, who had apparently discovered a top secret agency dealing with alien artifacts.), when the shrill ring of the phone shattered the silence. Sighing heavily, she dragged herself out of the chair and over to the phone. She picked up the reciever, not in any mood to talk, even to Janet, who she suspected the caller to be.
"Yeah, what?" A short pause on the other end, followed by,
"Hi, is there a Samantha Carter there please?" Repressing another sigh at the polite female voice who had disturbed her relaxation, Sam said,
"You're talking to her."
"Sam, it's Denise Walker." Carter froze, her blood running cold. Unable to speak, she barely registered the next sentence. "Sammy, dear, I need a favour."

Half an hour later, Sam put down the phone shakily. She closed her eyes and drew a shuddering breath, her face dead white. She needed someone devious to think of a way out of the situation. Immediately ruling both Daniel and Janet out of her list of unofficial counsellors, Sam decided to take her CO up on an offer he had made long ago. Throwing a pair of jeans and a jacket on, she grabbed her keys and headed out of the house.

A soft tapping on the door broke Jack O'Neill's intense study of the beer in his hand and the old silent movie on the TV screen. Wondering who it might be at a quarter to 12 at night, he ambled over to the door. He flicked the outside light on and opened the door, revealing his second in command. Looking pleadingly at her commanding officer, Carter said,
"Can we talk? Please?" Taking in her pale face and haunted eyes, Jack stepped back, showing her in. Closing the door behind her, he asked,
"You want something to drink?" Running her hand through her hair and sighing, Sam replied,
"Sure." Jack waved her into a seat.
"Beer?"
"Got anything slightly stronger?" Surprised, Jack said,
"Your wish is my command." Her lips curving slightly at Jack's attempt to lighten the atmosphere, Sam settled back into Jack's favourite chair, muttering just loudly enough for him to hear her from the liquor cabinet.
"You'd better believe it." Jack moved back over to the couch and handed Sam her scotch. He flicked the television off with the remote and leant on the arm rest nearest the major, waiting for her to begin. Sam raised her glass, the ice clinking as she downed half of it in one gulp. After a brief silence, Sam spoke up. Her voice tentative, she said,
"Colonel, Jack, when I found out my father was dying of cancer, you told me that you would always be there for me to talk to if I needed it, not just as my CO, but as a friend." Jack nodded, still wondering what was wrong. Sam continued. "Is that offer still open? As a friend?" The concern evident in his eyes, he replied instantly.
"Of course. I meant every word." Taking another sip of her drink, Sam began her tale.


"Where to begin? I thought I had left it all behind me years ago, it was dead and buried, or so I thought. I was a few months short of my sixteenth birthday, and very insecure." Sam smiled humourlessly as she went on. "I was always moving around, because of Dad's work, as you can guess, I never had many real friends while I was growing up, never in one place for too long, and a skinny geek to boot." Jack opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Sam. "Did I also mention that I had self esteem problems as well? Anyway, I had this major crush on one of the guys." Sam grinned mirthlessly. "Guy Williams, the typical Mr. I'm-So-Goddamned-Perfect-Cos-Everyone-Tells -Me-So Jock, and, you guessed it, the quarterback of the school team." This time, a slight chuckle escaped her lips as she said,
"You know, I read in the paper not too long ago that his football career was ended by a cuckolded ex of his with a baseball bat" She was interrupted by a chuckle from Jack, who said,
"Good for her!"
"Anyway," Sam went on. "I nearly died when he asked me out on a date. He took me out to dinner, and then we went back to his place for a movie. Almost as soon as the door was closed, he started putting his hands on me, telling me how much I wanted it. I was hesitant, and naïve. He pulled me down onto the couch, and said, and I quote, "All the other girls are doing it, don't be so frigid." I can't believe I fell for that line." Sam sighed, wiping away a small tear. "As soon as he had got what he wanted, he showed me the door, and fed me that "I'll call you sometime" shit. I went home in tears, to an empty house. Dad was away on a mission, and wouldn't be home until late that night. I called one of the few girls at the school who was nice to me, Denise Walker, who was a few years ahead of me, and she came right over, bearing a chocolate mud cake, seasoned with what she called 'Lady Denise's cure-all spices', which meant absolutely nothing to me then. We sat down, and she listened to my ranting on about how 'all men are bastards, and we should be able to live without them', agreeing with everything I said, handing me another slice of cake when I had finished the last one. Not too long after that, I started getting quite dizzy, and the last thing I remember was Denise leaning in and telling me, "Sammie, dear, we don't need men…", and then I passed out." Sam stopped for a minute, sipping her drink again. Her eyes moist, she glanced up at Jack, and said,
"Are you sure you want to hear the rest, sir?" Jack placed his hand on her arm and rubbed it reassuringly. Not breaking eye contact, he said,
"Sam, I think I can guess the rest, but, as they say, in for a dime, in for a dollar. And I think that we're past the 'sir' stage, don't you?" Swallowing the rest of her drink, Sam said,
"Definitely." She stood up and moved over to Jack. "Do you mind?" Looking very puzzled, Jack didn't reply, and was startled when the major shifted his legs over and lay down on the couch next to him, leaning back against him, her head on his shoulder. Grinning impishly up at him, she said,
"Your shoulder makes a comfy pillow, you know that?" Jack threw back a grin as he replied, his fingers rubbing small circles on Sam's temples.
"What can I say? It must be my irresistible charms." Sam let out a deep, contented sigh as she relaxed, enjoying the massage too much to even make a comeback.
After a few minutes of silence, Sam continued her tale.
"When I woke up, I had an absolute killer of a headache. I just lay there for a while, trying to remember what had happened. I had some vague recollections, but nothing firm. I sat up, and saw the note pinned on the dresser. I went over, and found two very explicit Polaroid's. The note said simply:

Sammie, dear, I'm sure that you have had a chance to look at the lovely pictures by now. I'm going to need a favour some day, and these are my 'insurance policy'. If you decide not to help, these will find their way into some very public hands, and I'm sure you don't want that. Be seeing you,
Denise

. I went into shock for about an hour. I tried Denise's number, but I couldn't get an answer. I kept trying for the next half an hour, and gave up, knowing that she'd have skipped town by now. I set about cleaning the house and myself up before Dad got back.
To this day, he doesn't know what happened, I never could bear the shame of telling him what I did, so I pretended it never happened. We moved away from that town about two months later, and I thought I'd left it behind. The years went by, and still no call. I got on with the rest of my life, joined the military, and by the time I finally transferred to the SGC, I hadn't thought of it in a decade or more." Sam closed her eyes and sighed. "I got home after the mission, had a bath, and settled down to read a book, and the phone rang." Jack lightly brushed a strand of blonde hair away from Sam's eyes, his fingers tenderly stroking her cheek once before returning to rubbing her temples.
"Denise?" His voice was concerned, gentle.
"You got it. Apparently, she joined the air force about five years back, and now she want's me to put in a character reference for her next promotion, and …transfer." Her slight pause gave Jack a hint. Jack asked,
"And you know where she's transferring to?" Sam responded,
"One guess…" Jack sighed as he spoke.
"A top secret military facility, located under NORAD, focusing on 'deep space radar telemetry'?" Sam nodded. Turning her head, she looked up into the chocolate brown eyes of her commanding officer.
"What am I going to do, Jack? I can't let those pictures come out, and I can't let 'sergeant' Denise loose in the SGC. Now I know what a double bind feels like…Can't go one way, can't go the other…" Jack glanced at his watch, his mind whizzing with questions.
"Do you have a contact number for Denise?"
"No, she said that she would give me the night to think on it, and she'd call me at midday tomorrow." Jack breathed a sigh of relief. He leant forward, making Sam sit up. He stood up and picked up the major in one smooth motion. She shrieked as he lifted her, her arms automatically clinging around his neck. He gave her an impish grin as he started towards the bedroom.
"Sam, you're exhausted. You are in no condition to drive home, so by executive decision, you're sleeping in my bed tonight. I'll take the spare room. We'll set about fixing these things tomorrow when you're rested." He saw her opening her mouth to protest, and cut her off. "This is not a request, major Samantha Carter. 'No' is not an option, so get used to it." Sam pouted, sending him mock glares from under her half-closed eyes. Jack climbed the stairs and placed her gently on the covers. He stepped back and waved a hand at the drawers.
"There will be an old T-shirt in there that might be your size, or maybe a few larger, if you want. I'm afraid my stock of delicate female lingerie is at the dry cleaners." He grinned at her, receiving a chuckle in reply as he backed out, closing the door behind him.

Sam made a small contented noise in her throat as she snuggled deeper into the covers, hugging a pillow to her chest. When the sunlight came streaming through the window, she gradually surfaced from a refreshing sleep, and became aware of a scent that she couldn't mistake in a million years: old spice shaving lotion, a hint of soap, and a trace of shampoo. Startled for a second, she wondered what she was doing in her colonel's bed, or at least one that smelt amazingly like him. She stretched as she recalled the events of the night before. Surprisingly, she was much more confident than last night, just knowing that Jack had taken the matter in hand made her feel a bit more secure. She whipped her head around at the sound of the door creaking open. Her eyes widened as Jack came in, tray of steaming hot pancakes in hand.
"I thought you could do with breakfast in bed…" He smiled at her, his whole face lighting up as she sat up, tucking a pillow behind her back as he placed the tray on her legs. A pleased smile sat firmly on Sam's lips as she surveyed the food before her. Pancakes smothered with maple syrup, a dollop of whipped cream sitting on top of each, and a dusting of ground chocolate covering the cream.
"You're going to ruin my figure, Jack… And who knew that you could cook like this?" Jack sat down on the bed next to her, smiling from ear to ear.
"Well, your figure is fine…from what I hear from the guys on the base." He quickly added before she could start asking embarrassing questions about how he'd noticed her figure. "And the MRE's we get on missions doesn't do my culinary skills true justice." Sam managed to mumble an agreement from around a mouthful of pancake. After a minute or so of eating, Sam looked up at the still-grinning colonel.
"Something amusing?" Sam enquired. Jack chuckled, shaking his head in the negative.
"Just enjoying the view…" Sam blushed a rosy red, lowering her eyes, before batting them coquettishly at him, observing happily their devastating effect.
*Well, at least I haven't lost that skill… She thought, setting the emptied tray aside. Determined to see what she could get away with while sitting in his bed, she replied,
"Oh? Didn't your mummy ever tell you it's rude to stare?" Jack put on his best innocent-little-boy look.
"I've been a bad boy….does that mean I get a smack?" His eyes glinted, a wicked smile forming. Sam threw back her head and laughed, shaking her head. When she recovered, she leant forward, her nose an inch from his. She raised her hand and ran her fingernail down his jaw-line.
"We'll see about that, shall we?" She purred. Leaning forward that last little bit, she brushed her lips across his, rolled over him and off the bed, and headed towards the door to the bathroom. Throwing a saucy look and a small wave over her shoulder, she closed the door, leaving a stunned Jack sitting on the bed, a stupid grin on his face.

Half an hour later, they were seated on the couch, Jack outlining his plan. Sam sat close to him, her face much happier now that there was light at the end of the tunnel. Neither of them talked about what had happened before, happy to let things happen as they would. Jack made quite a few phone calls, calling in favours in some cases, and promising some in others. Sam was astonished not only at the number of people that her CO knew in high places, but at how many of them also owed their lives, and maybe more to the colonel. Apparently when he was in Black Ops, he had been something of a cross between Rambo and James Bond, undercover all the time, behind enemy lines, and saving the West fairly regularly. All in all, Jack seemed to have an amazing ability to rig meetings to go the way he wanted them to. When they had finished plotting, Sam and the colonel drove over to her house to await the phone call from Denise.

Part 2....