Sam's POV
It all started out innocently enough. The two of them were eating lunch in the mess hall. Today was Italian- or what passed for Italian, anyway. (The SGC had to skimp out on the costs *somewhere*- better the food than the Stargate.) Personally, Sam wasn't too sure she would call overcooked noodles covered in an overly thick, definitely orange paste "pasta," but Jonas seemed overjoyed to try it.
She'd even made an ironic comment, but all he'd replied was, "Real Italian food!" and had vigorously shoveled more limp noodles into his mouth.
Apparently, she thought, as she had tried to stamp down a wave of queasiness at his enthusiasm, he still needed to learn the finer points of Earth sarcasm. And what the term "mess" actually implied. It simply wasn't funny when he didn't get her jokes- the ones that weren't at his expense anyway.
They had been chatting about some of their previous missions, with Sam occasionally teasing Jonas unmercifully about the female natives who always seemed to take a liking to the young Kelownan. They had been bantering harmlessly when Jonas had happened to glance up. He immediately froze for the longest of seconds, turning deathly pale, and- apparently forgetting what he had been doing- began to choke on the food he hadn't finished swallowing.
Sam, alarmed and well-versed in the Heimlich Maneuver, began to stand, but Jonas, still choking, quickly grabbed her hand with his left one while waving around his right in agitated fashion. It was pretty well choreographed for a guy who was dying on the spot- she was quite impressed.
Seizing his glass and chugging down the milk ("First time drinking real cow!" "Not quite."), he managed to wash down the lodged food. Breathing heavily, he took several deep sighs. It was only after she'd asked him three or four times that he was alright, that he really was fine, that he was totally, absolutely positive he was okay, and he'd confirmed it, that she had relaxed.
Jonas, after sneaking a quick peek around the room, visibly relaxed and returned his attention to his plate, eating his meal with considerably less gusto.
Sam watched him curiously. When it was clear he wasn't going to say anything, she prompted, "So, what was that all about, Jonas?"
He looked up warily. "What? Oh! That. It was, uh, nothing. Food just... went down wrong."
Yeah, he'd have to work on lying, too. "Jonas," she said patiently, "you went pale as a sheet and started choking. It was obviously *some thing* that startled you."
"No, really," he insisted, not meeting her eyes. "It wasn't anything at all."
"Jonas," she said warningly.
He paused, recognizing the tone. It was the "You better tell me now because I'll eventually get it out of you, one way or another, so just 'fess up and save yourself unnecessary agony" voice that she had perfected on him. It was actually quite a powerful weapon- at least on him. She watched as his internal struggle played out across his face.
After a moment, he reluctantly said, "You'll laugh."
"I won't."
"You will!" he accused.
Somewhat exasperated, she said, "I *promise* I won't laugh."
He narrowed his eyes. "Remember that time when Lt. Amners accidentally walked into the infirmary while I was changing? You promised you wouldn't laugh if I told you why I was red for the entire day, so I told you, and then you laughed anyway?"
Oops. Yeah, she definitely remembered that. She still got giggly every time she thought about it, too. It was no accident, that much was for sure, and if Amners were to be trusted, Jonas was better endowed than Sam had given him credit for.
"Okay, this time I cross my heart," Sam promised. As proof, she drew an imaginary "x" shape over her chest. At his confused stare, she clarified, "It's an Earth tradition. Means you really, really promise." She saw no point in informing him that it was actually a kid's rhyme... and hoped that he found out *that* part before he learned about the 'dying if you lied with a needle in your eye' bit.
His face cleared, and he released a soft, "Oh." She could almost see him mentally filing away that piece of very important information, and briefly wondered how much of his knowledge of Earth was genuine, and how much of it was just BS she and the colonel had taught him.
"Well..." he said, and seeing that he was wavering, she went in for the kill.
In her most persuasive voice, she coaxed, "Jonas, you *know* you can trust me." She was actually quite good at convincing him to do anything that she wanted. It was simply a matter of patience, of waiting for him to crack- because he always did.
As expected, Jonas finally nodded. Smiling inwardly, she watched as he gave another brief scan of the room, then leaned forward, pitching his voice in such a low whisper that she had to bend over across the table to hear: "I saw Colonel O'Neill."
She raised an eyebrow, pulling back into her seat. Okay. That was a rather disappointing revelation. She had been hoping for something... well, something more exciting. The colonel wasn't exactly someone to get choked up over- well, not like *that* anyway. "And that made you lose it because...?"
Jonas had also straightened back up and was now rolling meatballs across his plate. After another moment, he confessed quietly, embarrassed, "He was watching me."
"*Watching* you?"
"Yeah. He was giving me this... kind of glare. I can't really describe it. He didn't blink, just stared right at me, like he had me in one of those Goa'uld hand devices I read about. And then I choked."
"That's just... bizarre, Jonas. Are you sure? He can be... difficult to read. Maybe he was confused- he's like that pretty often. Or maybe he was looking at someone else."
"It's not just this one time, Sam. It's been happening a lot."
"Rea-lly," she said and reached for her juice.
He was oblivious to her sarcasm. "Is it just me, or has the colonel been shadowing me lately?"
Sam choked on her drink. "Shadowing you? Jonas, paranoia *is* a side effect of naquadria poisoning, you know."
"No, really," he insisted, looking so serious that she tried to be serious, too. "Tried" being the key word. "I mean, it's not like it's a huge base, but he seems to always be around wherever I go."
"Okay," Sam said, deciding to humor him. "So... he's always there... doing what exactly?"
"Like I said, watching me."
"Just watching you," she repeated doubtfully. "Exactly like a few minutes ago, when you choked on your spaghetti?"
He had finally picked up on her tone. Earnestly, he said, "Believe me, I was sure I was imagining it at first, too, but then I noticed it's even more obvious when you're around-"
"Jonas, if that's a not-so-subtle hint to try to get rid of me-"
"God, no, Sam!" He seemed honestly stricken at her half-offended tone. "I didn't mean that at all. You're my best friend here."
She tilted her head, smiling. "Really? That's sweet." She reached out to ruffle his hair- it was just so darn fluffy, like patting a puppy. "Well, you've really grown on me. I'm sure the colonel feels the same way."
"I don't think so," he said uncertainly, a worried look on his face. "I'm serious, Sam. I don't think he likes me hanging out with you. It's like he's... jealous."
That gave her pause, in that horrifying, stricken way where everything just stopped, and all she could feel was her suddenly erratic pulse, but in the next heartbeat, she'd said, as naturally as possible, "Jonas, don't be ridiculous."
He gave her a dubious look. "Am I, Sam? Look, I'm no expert on the Air Force. I've memorized all regs, but-"
"You *memorized* *all* of them?"
His proud grin indicated that he'd completely missed the point of her incredulous exclamation. "Yep. I thought it would be smart to, you know, make sure I follow all base rules."
"Jonas, you're not in the Air Force. You don't even work for it- hell, you're not even from this planet."
"I know, but it never hurts to be safe," he said stubbornly. He blinked, then frowned. "Anyway, as I was saying-"
She inwardly sighed. Trying to get the boy off-track was sometimes so amazingly easy- look! something new! look! something you haven't tried before! look! see what happens if you stick your finger there (that was the colonel)- but he could be so focused at the most inappropriate times.
"Sam, there's not anything going on between you and the colonel, is there?"
She just stared at him. "If you know the regulations," she said finally, carefully, slowly, "then you know what they say about that."
"Yeah. The regulations specifically forbid any relationship-"
"Right," she interjected. "So, there you go."
"That's not an answer, Sam."
"There is *nothing* between Colonel O'Neill and myself. We are simply good friends and colleagues. That direct enough of an answer for you?"
"Okay, but that doesn't explain the evil eye Colonel O'Neill has been giving me lately. And I've read some of the past reports-"
Committed them to memory. Right. Damn Kelownan physiology. "I'm sure they're all a fascinating glimpse into the past-"
"And read about the Za'tarc incident, the incident with the entity, the incident with the memory stamping-"
Damn, damn, damn.
"- the incident with the Tok'ra Jolinar, the incident with the Touched virus-"
"I get the point, Jonas."
"- the parallel universe Dr. Jackson experienced, the other alternate universe that Dr. Carter was from-"
"Jonas, enough!"
"Sam... I really think the colonel has it in for me." He looked at her, half-sadly, half-beseechingly. She almost felt sorry for him- almost.
Briskly setting sympathy aside, she replied in her best logical voice, "Even with all the impressive evidence you brought up, I don't see why he would."
"I don't get it either. But I can't concentrate with him always... popping up, looking at me, and then vanishing away again. It's distracting."
She thought about that, recalled all the times the colonel had suddenly appeared in her lab for no apparent reason, and had caused her to waste valuable time by just being himself. "Yes, he's very good at what he does," she admitted.
He sighed glumly, poking at his food with his fork. (She wanted to say it was already dead, but it probably would not have been appropriate.) "Look, Sam... could you just talk to him for me? You know, find out if I really am just imagining this? Not that I think the colonel would say anything if he were..."
At the edge of her vision, she perceived quick movement. Careful not to alert Jonas, who was too busy airing out more of his worries to notice, she casually lifted her face toward the motion.
There stood Colonel O'Neill, trying to hide behind the dessert trays. Sure enough, he was giving Jonas the fixated hairy eye. He wasn't even being subtle about it! She tried to catch his gaze. When he noticed her staring at him, a frown on her lips, he glowered at Jonas once more, then quickly turned and exited through the nearest door.
Huh. Maybe Jonas was right. The colonel was being a tad more obvious than usual. She hadn't realized it had escalated this far. She probably ought to speak to him about it, tell him to lay off of a bit.
"- so I think that if you were the one who broached the subject to him, he'd be most receptive-"
"Jonas, if it's bothering you this much, then I'll talk to the colonel about it," Sam interrupted. "It *is* bad for you and for team morale if you're... well, afraid of him."
The smile he gave her was the cutest thing ever- she just wanted to hug him to death. "Thanks, Sam," he said sincerely, relief evident in his voice. "I knew I could count on you."
She nodded away his thanks, then expertly directed their topic to something else. As Jonas chattered away happily, his burden now lifted, her thoughts strayed back to the colonel.
Really, the colonel was getting out of hand. When he wasn't hanging around her all the time- not that she minded that- he was apparently off stalking Jonas.
Much as she was flattered that the colonel thought Jonas a threat, Jonas was like a kid brother. She just didn't think of him that way.
And anyway, it was a *little* silly for a man the colonel's age to go around scaring the pants off of newbie aliens, even if it admittedly *was* kind of fun.
Which reminded her. She needed to stock up on saran wrap and shaving cream- a certain special month was coming up, offering her the perfect chance to teach Jonas about a little Earth tradition called April Fool's Day...
Sometimes she was just too evil.
------
Jack's POV
He should have known the alien was trouble. Oh, it wasn't the whole Daniel-gets-poisoned-and-is-blamed- by-the-Kelownan-government-is-about-to-die-but-then- Ascends-all-Glowy thing. That hadn't been the kid's fault, and he'd admitted it a long while ago.
No, *this* was something completely different.
Technically, it all began a few years ago, with that note from the future, written in his own handwriting, soaked in his own blood. The one with the secretly scrawled inscription on its back, written in biodegradable invisible ink, the message known only to him, that said, cryptically, "Protect 'C' - beware 'J.'"
Okay, so his future self clearly hadn't gotten much smarter, but he had assumed it was the Special Ops training- if the note fell into the wrong hands, they'd read it, not understand it, and give up. But for crying out loud- this was his past self he had been dealing with! He should've *known* better. It'd taken Jack nearly half a year to figure out what the hell the note meant- and most of it had been coincidence.
Everything fell into place the minute Ambassador Joe Faxton appeared. He'd seen how badly the guy had it for Carter, the way they openly flirted, the pretty smiles she'd given him that made Jack want to punch the ambassador’s face in. The whole thing spelled disaster.
It was around then that Hammond had brought up the future note, and... *click* It suddenly all made sense. Protect 'C.' Carter. Beware 'J'... Joe?
Half convinced that Joe was going to, in some way, screw Carter over- marry her, give her perfect children, make her happy beyond belief, then break her heart with the next young intern that flashed some leg- Jack was quite pleased (outwardly devastated) to learn that Faxton was stuck with the Aschen, likely permanently, and there would be no dinner date between him and Carter.
And all was well. Sure, over the past few years, Carter had had a few issues with a scientist named McKay, some weird mind meld thing with an alien named Orlin, trouble with a sacrificial Tok'ra symbiote, even a brief bonding experience with a NID agent, Barrett. But, at the end of the day, things were back to normal- McKay headed off to Russia, Orlin re-Ascended, Lantash died, and Barrett did... his NID stuff in DC.
Jack even managed to forget about the note for a bit.
That was, however, until he met Jonas Quinn.
The "J" was the first tip-off. The second, almost as big as the first, was the weird name coincidence- it could NOT be a good sign that he, an alien from another planet, had the same exact first name as Carter's crazy, now dead, ex-fiancé with the god complex.
But the alien had seemed so unassuming. He was, Jack was told, extremely good-looking. Nice, smart, funny. But unlike most men, he hadn't had designs on Carter. He'd seemed oblivious to her beauty. That comforted Jack, and that was his ultimate mistake- a comfortable Jack had his defenses down, when he should have been vigilantly watching.
When Carter had begun pressing that Jonas ought to be rewarded for his actions, for his brilliant scheme to save Earth, he ought to have been suspicious. Carter, vouching for a guy whose name began with "J"? Not a major earth shaker, but vigilant Jack would have recognized it for what it was- a flashing red light that Jonas was, in a word, dangerous.
Things had progressed from there. The sudden switch from "Major" to "Sam." The lunch invitations. The buddy-buddy chats. And now Carter had developed this weird fixation for patting Jonas on the head- what was up with *that*?
No, overall, things were not progressing as he had planned. Not only were the Goa'uld taking their sweet ass time in being defeated- thus the salvation of Earth, his subsequent retirement, and his and Carter's natural advancement in their relationship- now he had to deal with this.
Life was so unfair.
And so, he had decided to take action. Taking action meant, of course, developing a detailed, full-proof plan that would ensure constant surveillance of the target, or his target's target.
It was easiest when they were on field missions- he could watch them both without anything being made of it. He was the CO, making sure his team was safe and alive. And anyway, Carter was usually so into ecstasy over some new alien technology or some new soil sample that she wouldn't even notice it if a whole legion of male aliens fell dying at her feet, professing eternal love and bodily sacrifice, and were then immediately annihilated by some freak accident that seemed to occur an awful lot around her.
So, he had begun hanging out with Carter even more than he'd already been doing. And ever since Daniel's leave, that was a lot. If she noticed, she didn't comment, or else she just didn't mind. It was a good way of keeping tabs on her, while also spending quality time with her.
He really, really liked watching her wander around her lab in that black shirt-
But that was *completely* irrelevant.
The second part of his plan was, when he couldn't tail Carter without it being obvious enough for her to get angry (and she could be *frightening* when she was mad), to secretly check in on Jonas.
If O'Neill had his way, Jonas would never be left by himself- that was just asking for trouble to come knocking. All alone, he could be devising ways to get to Carter. But then, Jonas with Carter was even worse- he could be putting those plans into action.
It was too bad Teal'c had already been compromised. Teal'c and O'Neill were sworn brothers, or something, but that didn't mean Teal'c would willingly follow Jonas around the base. But, maybe that was to be expected. Two aliens in the SGC would definitely, inevitably bond. O'Neill had even made a joke about it- it was pretty funny, too, but he wasn't sure that Teal'c would be too keen on it.
No, he had to do everything himself... which suited him fine. That way, he'd make sure that everything was working out just as he wanted.
Good-looking, smart, nice aliens were just bad, bad, bad for sexy, beautiful, intelligent doctor-majors with gorgeous smiles. She deserved better- like a graying, aging, sarcastic colonel who pretended to be dumber than he really was, just so he could hear his brilliant, adored 2IC talk for hours on end.
Keeping an eye on Jonas was the only way he could see that occur. As long as he kept it up without Carter knowing, there would be no way Jonas could ever be allowed to execute whatever evilly, horribly nice move he'd surely been cooking up for months.
No, he didn't trust Jonas one bit. Sure, the kid was fine in a jam- he'd saved SG-1 a couple of times- and yeah, O'Neill trusted him with his life, and alright, he thought Jonas was a competent, obedient, invaluable member of his team, but that wasn't the point. They were talking about Carter, and Carter was more important than anything else.
At least, that had been his current thinking for several months. But recently... To be honest, lately he was having a few doubts. If this were anyone else, he'd think the guy were up to something, some sort of ploy at being innocent. He wasn't so sure with Jonas. Okay, so maybe the whole "trusting Jonas with his life" thing *was* coloring his judgment.
But maybe... just maybe Jonas was okay. It could be a coincidence about the name. He and Carter really could just be friends. O'Neill privately admitted to himself that he'd feel bad- just a little bit- if it turned out that Jonas had been innocent all along. He'd feel even worse if it were really... say, Sgt. Justin Frankford that he had to worry about. (Which reminded him, Frankford had been way too starry-eyed around Carter as of late... better add him to the list.)
It was just that... You wouldn't think, looking at the kid, that he'd be easily scared, but he was. It was almost too simple- just a frown here, a cocked eyebrow there, a "you even think about messing with Carter, and I'll make your life a living hell" look in every action, and the Kelownan was reduced to a quivering mess. It was kind of sad.
And this last incident with Carter noticing him... The look she had given him spoke volumes. He had no illusions that she'd never noticed what he was up to- but like him, she wasn't adverse to having him hang around her, so had kept silent about it. That is, until she'd seen for herself what he was inflicting on Jonas. Now, he was quite sure she'd be dropping by his office at the most inopportune time, ready to lecture him about how Jonas was an integral member of SG-1, and how frightening him was just not a good thing.
So, maybe he'd lay low for a little while... Cut back on following Jonas, increase time spent with Carter, busily distract her from her oh-so-important work, have lunch with her, watch her eat her blue jello...
It probably would make everyone much happier. That wasn't to say that he'd stop giving Jonas the evil eye completely... just maybe infrequently, once in a while when he thought Jonas was getting too close to Carter for comfort. It'd keep Jonas on his toes at least.
And besides... scaring Jonas was way too much to fun to give up entirely. An old colonel had to get his kicks from somewhere, and alien-spooking was a good a hobby as any.
------
end
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Feedback appreciated. =)
Story Notes: Email: psyche@psyche.nu
Archive: SJD
Spoilers: Season Four's "2010," many episodes from Season Five, and Season Six's "Smoke and Mirrors." Set during Season Six.
Status: Complete
Copyright (c) 2003 Jackie, completed 04/13/2003
Archive: SJD
Spoilers: Season Four's "2010," many episodes from Season Five, and Season Six's "Smoke and Mirrors." Set during Season Six.
Status: Complete
Copyright (c) 2003 Jackie, completed 04/13/2003
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]