Title: Tall Guys To Fall

Author: cgb (luberluber@yahoo.com.au)

Category: Sam/ Jack but more Sam and Jack.

Rating: PG

Archive. Sure.

Summary: "Life moves on. She moves on."

Sam in the first season. Pre-"Solitudes"

Author's notes: This is just one of those things

that's been on my hard drive for too long. Thanks -

and absolutely no blame for anything that isn't right

- to Lin The Cookster, and my gal Teanna, who lights

up the pixels on my computer.

*

The prod of an alien weapon urges her forward. Her

hands are tied behind her back and she moves slowly,

unsure of her step. Beside her O'Neill's hands are

similarly bound, an identical weapon positioned

against his spine. Now and then he mutters something

unintelligible that she hopes their captors can't

hear. It's unlikely to be flattering. 

When they arrive in the town square they are forced

onto their knees. With her hands tied she has

difficulty gaining her balance and she barely prevents

herself from falling face-first into the dirt. The

Colonel catches her eye and gives her a look that

tries to be reassuring, but isn't.

They're on their knees execution style and there's a

very good reason for it - they're about to be

executed. 

"Captain Carter and Colonel O'Neill." She looks up

into the darkened face of Krida. The locals ran to

Krida when they encountered the strange visitors from

the other side of "the great circle". Krida, it would

seem, handles everything, including extraordinary

circumstances. She likens him to a Sheriff - less

about law and more about order. "The council holds you

responsible for the death of Maya daughter of Lenier,

Duga son of Mugeya, and Yater son of Natrini, and as

such you are to be executed immediately."

"For the twentieth goddamn time," O'Neill says. "It's

a 'Stargate' and your guys will be back as soon as

Yater is well again." 

"And as you have been told, Colonel O'Neill, the

council is not convinced. No one can corroborate your

story that Daniel Jackson and Teal'c went into the

'great circle' before Duga." 

"Duga wasn't supposed to go! He threw himself into the

gate after Daniel had taken Maya and Yater… " O'Neill

shakes his head. 

She wonders if he's thinking what she is - that they

should have foreseen this. They should have foreseen

an overeager traveller launching his or herself at the

gate. Even if it had not happened on this mission

surely it was destined to happen eventually. No doubt

Duga was fine (right now, Duga was probably sitting in

the commissary eating blue jello) but gate travel is a

delicate procedure - in unexpected circumstance the

negative outcomes multiply. 

They're just learning, still finding their feet, but

the margin for error is small and the consequences are

dire. These mistakes will cost them.

"The great circle is a curse!" Andke is the religious

leader for whatever it is that passes as religion

amongst the Wedekki. Daniel said their beliefs were

disparate but that they were strongly superstitious,

avoiding any temptation of fate. "A curse that has

slept for centuries  - and you have woken it!" 

Centuries! Centuries since the Wedekki have seen a

Goa'uld or an even an open Stargate…

She casts a hopeful but futile glance in the direction

of the gate. Where were Daniel and Teal'c? They'd been

gone two days.

She wishes she had planned for this hostility. She

wishes she'd heard the tornado before it lifted them

off the ground. 

"Look," she says. "If you'd just let us activate the…"

"Silence!"

Thwack! Something hard connects with her jaw. She

falls sideways, and her shoulder hits the ground

awkwardly. Before she has time to assess the damage

there are two guards at her side, hauling her back

into an upright position. 

She blinks, trying to clear the spots from her eyes.

Her mouth is full of blood, which is dribbling onto

her lip. She spits it out onto the ground. 

"Okay!" O'Neill says suddenly. "Okay, I lost Yater,

Maya and Yuga in the… 'great circle'. I take full

responsibility. But let Carter go. Carter's smart, she

can help you. She can help you build better…" His eyes

fall to the weapons pointed at his head, "guns." 

His words ring around her head along with the pain

emanating from her jaw. She tries to focus on what he

is saying, to think of a response. 

She looks up at Andke, sees his barely concealed

derision and knows it will be more than weak promises

of weapons expertise that will get them out of this

one. 

"Enough!" Andke says. "Execute them now!" 

Krida seems to hesitate for a moment, and then nods,

decisively. "Take aim…" 

She looks at O'Neill, desperate, unable to believe it

has finally come to this. He catches her look and

mirrors it.

"Sorry," he says.  And she is too. 

And then a voice calls out from the crowd. "Duga!" 

She hears the sound of feet falling hard on the dry

ground, moving swiftly in a desperate need to arrive.

Excited voices are raised above the murmurs of the

crowd. "Stop!" "Lower your weapons!" 

And then Daniel is there in front of them, falling

onto his knees and looking into their eyes. His face

asks a thousand questions which O'Neill answers by

rolling his eyes. "What in god's name took you so

long?" he says.

Duga reasons with the town's leaders. His obvious

animation is a convincing argument and Krida tells the

guards to untie their hands. 

Daniel bends down to assist the Colonel with his

bonds. "You have a way with people, Jack. I leave you

alone for two days and they're already trying to kill

you." Daniel smiles and she wants to laugh but her jaw

hurts. Tears start to well in her eyes. 

"You okay, Sam?" Daniel says.

*

"I heard it was a close one?" Dr Fraiser cradles Sam's

jaw in her hand, turning it slowly to the right. 

"Ouch," Sam says. 

Dr Fraiser winces sympathetically. "Sorry." She turns

Sam's jaw to the left with a slightly gentler touch,

but it hurts anyway. 

Sam grits her teeth. "It was too close." 

"But you made it." 

"This time." 

The Doctor takes her hand away. "It's not too bad -

nothing broken or sprained, just bruising. You'll

probably have a stiff neck for a few days." She leans

back and folds her arms. "Too close is still miles

away." 

It's not, Sam thinks. It's one hair's breadth, one

instant, the last, tiny step before the ultimate

result. "I don’t like relying on luck." 

"Luck is what you make it. I call it good management."

Then why does it feel like she isn't managing at all? 

The Doctor shifts her position so that she is leaning

back onto the examination table, next to Sam. She

leans in and speaks quietly, despite the emptiness of

the infirmary.  "Do you want some time off?" 

"No," Sam says. "Gotta, you know, get back on the

horse."

"The horse will always be there, Captain. Take a

couple of days."  

Two days on her own and she might start throwing

things - possibly her crockery. She slides off the

examination table. "I'll be fine." 

*

She is staring at her locker. The metallic grey is

soothing, reassuring and familiar. She should be

changing into her civvies and going home but there is

something about he metal shine that transfixes her.

She shakes herself out of her state and keys her

combination into the lock. Something isn't right, and

Dr Fraiser might know best, but she has to be here -

even if it's just to see the same old, familiar locker

day after day.

Her combination fails twice, and she bangs her hand

against the adjacent locker on the second try. She

gets it on the third. 

She's not usually like this. This is someone else. 

She opens her locker and throws her bag over her

shoulder without bothering to get changed. She turns

to leave and finds herself face to face with O'Neill. 

"You finished, Carter?"

"All yours, Sir." 

"Thanks. Hey - you going home?" 

"Uh - yeah, I was just on my way out." 

"Okay. See you tomorrow." 

She pauses, expecting something but not knowing what.

"See you tomorrow, Sir," she says.

Outside the locker room she doesn't get far. She

stands in the hallway, unable to move. 

And then she turns and heads back into the locker

room.

"How do you do it?" she says. 

O'Neill actually jumps. He's shirtless and for a

moment she thinks he's going to feign modesty and

cover up. He doesn't. Instead he fingers the t-shirt

he is holding and raises his hands in a palms-up

gesture. "Nope - I give up, Carter, what the hell are

you talking about?" 

"Sir, I need to… you have to tell me how you do it."

She raises a hand and runs it through her hair,

frustrated with her inability to communicate simple

things. "Nothing gets to you." 

"Carter…" For a moment he sounds like he might

admonish her, but instead he makes a gesture with the

T-shirt in his hand. "Carter, can we have this

conversation when I've got clothes on." 

Her attention is diverted to his naked torso. She

stares at it for a moment, before catching herself in

the act and blushing. "S - sorry, Colonel…" At a loss

for something to say she indicates the exit. "I'll be

outside."

*

She leans against the wall, letting her head fall back

with a slight 'thunk' - hard enough to hurt. The pain

in her jaw flares up again, reviving a headache that

has lain dormant since she left the infirmary. 

She closes her eyes and counts to ten, regulating her

breathing in time to the count. 

She opens her eyes. Her heart is still pounding.

"Dammit," she says out loud. 

O'Neill appears in the doorway to the locker room.

Dressed in civvies, he gives her a wary eye. 

"I think I might be going mad," she says, quietly. 

He shrugs. "Take a number." 

"Sir?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Take me seriously for a moment, please?" 

"You're not going mad, Carter." 

"Is that your expert opinion, Sir?" 

"Someone pointed a gun at your head and you got

weirded out - happens all the time." 

"It hasn't happened before." 

He looks down the hallway, as if expecting someone to

be there. When no one appears he leans a shoulder onto

the wall beside her and takes her in, thoughtfully.

"It was pretty close huh?" 

"It wasn't the first time." And it probably wouldn't

be the last. She wonders whether it was just a matter

of time. Whether she'd just avoided that intimation of

mortality long enough to keep doing what she needed to

do. 

And maybe she just didn't expect to go like that.

"Sir," she says. "Don't die for me. I don't… I

couldn't live with that." 

Two SGC technicians walk past at a brisk pace. One of

them nods in recognition of O'Neill and he performs a

casual salute. "Howdy," he says. 

He turns his attention back to Sam. "What if I told

you I was just buying for time…?" 

She considers this. "It worked."

"Yeah." 

"What if they had taken you up on the offer?" 

He shrugs, nonchalantly. "That would have been good

too." 

"Sir…"

"It didn't happen, Carter. We're still here. We beat

them today, we'll beat them tomorrow if we have to." 

One day, she thinks, their luck is going to run out

and one of them won't return home. "I wish I shared

your confidence, Sir." 

"I have faith, Carter. With my brains and your good

looks…" 

She raises an eyebrow. 

"You know I'm pretty sure I got that the wrong way

around…" He smiles and then fakes a serious face. "Not

that you're not good looking…" 

This time she does smile. "I think you backed yourself

into a corner there." 

He pushes himself off the wall and commandeers her

shoulder, turning her around so she can walk beside

him. "Let's go home, Carter. It will all seem clearer

in the morning."  

They reach the elevator. O'Neill punches the "up"

button and they wait, staring at the numbers above the

doors as they each glow in turn. 

When the elevator reaches their floor they step in and

she presses the ground floor. They ride up in silence.

They are almost at the top when the klaxons sound and

a familiar voice, says, "unscheduled off-world

activation." 

Without a word she punches stop and the elevator comes

to a halt. She hits level 28 and the elevator descends

again. 

She hears O'Neill sigh. "Just a few more minutes…" he

says. 

*

Life moves on. She moves on. Occasionally the

platitudes make sense. 

Lying flat on her stomach in the dirt of PX3 294, she

has reason to contemplate another platitude: the more

things change the more they stay the same. 

Serpent guards block SG1's access to the gate. Their

appearance is unexpected - and very inconvenient.  

"I thought you said that mine was abandoned," the

Colonel hisses at Daniel. 

Daniel peers over the fallen tree they have taken

refuge behind. "SG6 wrote the report," he says. "Blame

them." 

Her weapon is trained in front of her, unwaveringly

following the movement of the guards. They are all

tense and irritable - it was supposed to be a simple

mission. 

The Colonel says something cavalier like, "don't shoot

until you see the whites of their eyes," and she

laughs nervously. 

No one else does. Teal'c gives them a bemused look and

Daniel pushes his glasses further up his nose. 

"I say we take 'em," O'Neill says. "There's  - how

many? Twelve?" 

The gate comes to life and six more walk through.

"Shit," he says. 

"We need a diversion, " she says. She eyes the grenade

hanging from the Colonel's utility belt. 

As if reading her mind he unhooks the grenade from his

belt and nods his head at a pile of trees on the

opposite side of the clearing. "Teal'c - think you can

throw a live one over there?" 

Teal'c takes the grenade and pulls the pin. He throws

it in a perfect arc across the clearing and it lands

on the other side. They watch as the resulting

explosion lights up the forest. 

"Heck of an arm you got there," O'Neill says. "Ever

thought of going pro?" 

At least half of the serpent guard contingent leaves

to investigate the explosion. She raises her eyebrows

at the Colonel. Time to move.

He nods. "Let's go." And they are on their feet and

running. 

She's a good soldier - acts before thinking and thinks

before acting when required. She takes out three

guards on the run. The Colonel takes out one before

laying down cover fire so that Daniel can run for the

DHD. 

It's all procedure - standard attack tactics and

formation. Teal'c fires a series of blasts at the

guards' feet which sends them flying backwards. Daniel

runs for the DHD and dials home. The gate comes to

life and they move toward it. When it all goes

according to plan, it looks effortless.

But weapons fire is falling all around them. She turns

to see the guards returning from the other side of the

clearing, staff weapons pointed and powering up. She

fires and keeps firing, thinking of nothing else.  

"Go! Go!" O'Neill says. He waves a hand in the

direction of the gate. Daniel gets there first

followed by Teal'c. They dive through the gate one

after the other. 

The Colonel is behind her, the undisputed last. They

continue to fire as they run, aiming at anything and

everything. It isn't precise, but it's effective. 

They're almost there when she hears him cry out. She

turns to see him clutching his arm. A large gash is

visible through a tear in his uniform - a flesh wound.

She feels relief and concern wash over her in an

instant. He's injured, his weapon has fallen to the

ground, and the guards are relentless, but he's still

standing and it's a shimmer of hope in a hopeless

situation.

Their eyes meet and for a moment she sees something in

them that she can't name. Something wrong. 

It's gone before she can pinpoint it, and her thoughts

are once again on their predicament.

Unwilling to take her hands off her weapon, she

motions with her eyes toward the Colonel's P-90. It's

lying on the ground barely two feet away. He follows

her look until he sees it and in one effortless swoop

it's in his hands and firing again. They continue

shooting as they join each other in a mad dash for the

gate. 

And then they are falling through, arms and legs in a

tangle, carried through by their initial momentum. 

She feels the hardness of the ramp slamming into her

back and she lets her breath go. They made it. They

really made it. 

The SGC moves swiftly around them. In the background

she can hear shouting and orders being issued over the

PA. "Close the gate!" "Stand down!" "Medical team to

the gate room!"

And then there is General Hammond's face looming above

her. "Are you all right, Captain." 

"The Colonel's injured." She picks herself up off the

ramp. Her hand is still wrapped tightly around the

grip of her P-90. Her knuckles are white. 

"Cross PX3 294 off the mission list." O'Neill gets to

his feet, throwing his wound a cursory glance "Can I

get a band-aid?" 

Dr Fraiser appears by the Colonel's side and inspects

the injury. "I'd like to get this to the infirmary as

soon as possibly, Sir." 

The General nods. "We'll debrief at 2100," he says. 

The Doctor leads the Colonel away and Sam walks

wearily after them. It's a pattern of sorts: the

General smiles, the Doctor fusses and the Colonel

jokes. From order to chaos and back again in an

instant. 

And they're getting used to it.

* 

Dr Fraiser checks her vision by holding up to fingers

and moving them from side to side. "Any nausea?" 

"No." 

"Blurred vision?" 

"No." 

The Doctor smiles. "Looks fine to me."  

On the other bed the Colonel is clenching and

unclenching his fist. 'Nope," he says. "Can't feel a

thing." 

"Good," the Doctors says, nodding. "But it won't last

- I'll get you something to help you sleep but

otherwise, I think you can go." 

She disappears. Sam studies the Colonel. His bandage

looks like a small pillow and there is blood on a

dressing by the bed. It's a disconcerting sight. 

He catches her eye. "You know, I don't think those

guys like us. Whenever they're around someone always

ends up shooting at us." 

She looks down at the floor. It seems like someone is

always shooting at them, and sometimes they get shot.

Three inches to the right and this story could have an

entirely different ending.

"You thought you were gone," she says. Her voice is

low, quiet. 

"You say something, Carter?" 

"There was a moment, Sir - when you got shot - you

thought you weren't going to make it." 

He looks at her with an expression she can't

recognise. If she asked, he'd say he was a simple man,

but lately she's seen in him a complexity she may

never understand, may not want to understand. 

"Yeah," he says - and there's nothing more. 

"It surprised me," she says. 

"Yeah, me too." 

She slides off the examination table and rubs her

neck. She's bruised but not broken. She'll sleep

painfully tonight. 

"It's a good thing, Sir."

"Carter?" 

"I mean," She looks away. There isn't a right way to

say this - not to a superior officer. Not to this

superior officer. "It's good to have a reason to want

to come back - whatever it is." 

He looks at his hands. "Yeah," he says quietly. 

She turns to go. "I'll see you at the debriefing,

Sir." 

He nods. "See you at the debriefing." 

Outside in the corridor, she walks slowly. Fatigue

weights her down, stops her from exercising her body

and her brain. From time to time she gets told she

thinks too much and it's true she has a propensity to

over-think situations when it's practical to take them

at face value. 

But she doesn't want to see the ordinary in these

extraordinary things. And she won't excuse herself for

being normal when the situation demands otherwise. 

She pushes these thoughts from her mind and plans her

report, sinks into the routine, the familiarity of

procedure. 

She's getting used to it. And she's getting used to

him. 

Fin

*

(Title from a song called "Ordinary" by You Am I. Nice

song.)