Inheritance by Kelly

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Story Notes: EMAIL: kelly@chocolategirl.fsnet.co.uk

SEASON/SEQUEL INFO: Takes place during Shades of Grey, third season

SPOILERS: Major spoilers for Shades of Grey. Minor for Children of the Gods, The First Commandment, and Touchstone

ARCHIVE: SJA and Heliopolis

AUTHORS NOTES: This is my first fic, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated! Thanks to my beta-reader Laura *sends a round of applause her way* who, as well as making this much, *much* better, managed to calm my nerves enough to post this! Also, I've been told to put a tissue warning on it!

On my knees under our latest acquisition, I wonder if a standard spanner will break this open. Doubting it, I reach for another lucky little find: when dealing with Asgard technology it's always best to have an Asgard "toolkit". As I try to discover what material the device is composed of, I hear Newman's highly-strung voice as he rushes around after Colonel O'Neill. The Colonel seems to be tiring quickly of Newman's hero-worship, and I can't say I blame him. Having a member of the great SG-1 here is almost more than he can bear. I find myself remembering our conversation from earlier. Or rather, one part. It still stings.

"You remind me of someone in my old command"

I instantly knew who he meant. How couldn't I? And I couldn't help a glow of satisfaction at being compared to her. Almost as if it was validation: I am as good as she is.

"Major Carter"

"How do you know her?"

"She beat me out of a position in the SGC"

If it wasn't for her, I'd be doing 'official' unofficial black-ops work. I'd get to play with the billions of dollars of equipment she has at her fingertips, rather than the odd instrument we manage to scrounge.

Oh, well. I suppose it's always better to have a theoretical astrophysicist on the team rather than a plain old engineer. And besides, their CO General Hammond is in real tight with Carter's daddy, from what I've heard.

Anyway, when it comes down to a toss-up between two candidates it's always better to give the plum scientific job to the one with the 'reliable' family background, the one with the perfect transcripts and perfect record because she's never had to go the wrong way round anything.

I bet Samantha 'Call-me-Sam' Carter's never had to worry about the advances of her fellow officers, suffering living hell, but unable to bring a harassment suit because even in the modern military, you may as well kiss your career goodbye. Oh sure, I bet she thinks she's suffered at the hands of the Old Boys Club, but by the time she was let loose in the ranks her father had made General. She won't realise it, but that would have given her just a little extra freedom to be strong and to deflect all the little barbs and downright chauvinism with a confidence the rest of us couldn't hope to have.

When it comes down to it, no-one is going to mount a campaign of harassment against the daughter of a General, especially if she's also on the fast-track, with some very important people looking out for her. When she joined up it was already established she was on the way to a dazzling career in NASA. Samantha Carter had a built in safety net: her dad was there and if all else failed, she could give him a call. Don't get me wrong, I'm not an orphan or a product of the care system. My parents were decent, respectable people who worked hard to put me through school. It's just that even when they were alive, in the military having a dad who's a civil engineer doesn't carry quite as much weight as a general.

Not having that backup, I had to walk a fine line, being the perfect soldier: tough, keeping up with the guys, never complaining, joining in with the drinking and the jokes and deflecting all the pigs who'd leer at me regardless if we were in a bar or on an exercise, while managing to keep them all sweet and hold off the *real* abuse I knew they were capable of. But I did it. The pigs ended up liking and then respecting me, I worked five times as long and hard and finally my prize was in sight. A place in the SGC. It glittered in front of me like a mirage in the desert, promising to be the reward for all I'd gone through.

And I was robbed of it by a woman with a superior degree title and a General for a daddy.

So I'm bitter. I have every right to be. Sam Carter stole my dream. Sure, I got a consolation prize - Area 51, no less, analysing the technology Carter decided she couldn't be bothered to keep on the base and play with, but what was that? Don't tell me that dad of hers couldn't have gotten her into NASA? I remember a rumour from a while back that he had done just that. It was a dying gesture if I remember, and poor old Sammie had to turn him down. Then, of course, she saved her fathers life and solidified diplomatic relations with the Tok'ra at the same time, providing us with an ally against the Goa'uld. One who actually *gave* us some technology. Oh, and then she healed a lifetime rift between her father and brother. Just another day, really.

You may think I know a little too much about Major Dr Samantha Carter, for someone who's passed her in the corridors of the Pentagon occasionally, or sat in on a few of her briefings, just one more face in a darkened room. And I admit it: I was curious. Even before we both went up for the SGC post, her ill-fated engagement to that spec-ops guy and the way it ended fuelled the gossip at our Pentagon water-cooler for a long time. After I lost the position at Cheyenne Mountain and was relegated to Area 51, I couldn't help but wonder at the woman whose reports on technology I pored over, the woman who had beat me out of the position I considered mine.

I read mission reports and personnel reviews, managed to get my hands on every scrap of paper concerning Sam Carter and, consequently, SG-1, that came out of that mountain. Of course, SG-1 was all we, the people stuck in the desert, talked about. The things they saw and did. They were the subject of both awe and ridicule. Only half the team was military, for Gods sake! Surely a civilian scientist: a *geek*, O'Neill's reports clearly implied, and a...well, an alien, who had served our mortal enemies, couldn't make up a successful team. And as for the military half well, anyone could see that Colonel O'Neill and Captain Carter couldn't stand each other! Accounts of their first meeting echoed over the desert for weeks, and reinforced my every opinion of Carter. Only someone very confident in either her abilities or her family connections would be that insubordinate to her brand-new CO in front of a room full of superior officers. Although, to be fair, the General was probably someone she'd met at Thanksgiving dinner.

Somehow, though, Colonel O'Neill seemed to get to like her. An awful lot, if you believed the next round of rumours about them. I wasn't sure if I did: not because I didn't think that there was something between them: when we spoke of her today, there was a definite...something. But because of Carter.

Sam Carter wouldn't let a moment of passion or even, if you believe the romantics, true love, interfere with her career path. For she was on her way up, and sleeping with your CO tended to leave a black mark on the permanent record that even a Tok'ra ambassador daddy or a General-with-a-direct-line-to-the-President surrogate father couldn't erase.

Standing opposite Colonel O'Neill, though, I had to admire the woman's self-restraint. The way his eyes softened, just for a moment, as he thought of her. It was quickly covered up, but I saw it nonetheless. He loved her. Maybe not enough to stay in line for her, maybe not enough to swallow his views on the soft-hearted management at the SGC just to be near her, but he loved her. And somehow, with the grasp for her feelings I gained along with the vast amounts of knowledge of her life, I know that she felt something for him. But the way a flash of pain accompanied the love in his eyes, I don't think he knew it. For a moment I feel sorry for them both, feeling all too intensely the pain that their situation must bring. Tragic, in a way. Leaving your love for your principles, her never realising that what you do, you do because the future of the planet depends on it.

But it's only the sympathy I'd feel for a character in a movie, and the feeling was quickly discarded as the survival instincts kicked in, bringing with them a good dose of reality. If Carter and O'Neill did love each other, they'd be here together or not at all. After all, stealing technology from your allies is a black or white subject: you're either willing to do what it takes to defend your country or you're not. O'Neill is. I've seen his service record, and this kind of op is nothing new to him.

Carter, on the other hand? If the accounts about how upset she is that her beloved CO has gone over to the dark side are right, she'd never have the stomach for this kind of work.

The dose of reality makes me feel a little better. So Sam Carter didn't lead a perfect life after all. Oh, sure, SG-1 may have fun. Major Carter may make allies among new races, and figure out whatever tiny little morsel of technology they give to her, like crumbs off their plate. But she'll probably never see any of the technology in this room, let alone get to take it apart and investigate how it works.

In the future I'll be the one saving the planet, making the discoveries, not her. And as I think that an image of Jack O'Neill comes to me. I remember him walking out the room this morning, my eyes sliding over his body, down to his firm ass. Maybe there's something else of Carter's that I'm due to inherit. I'm sure *Jack* will be more than happy to find a replacement for his Major, someone who realises the importance of our work and who shares his ideals. For whatever way you look at it, he and Major Carter were mismatched from the word go. And besides, there *are* no fraternisation regs here, I remind myself, as a smile escapes my lips.

I've got a feeling this assignment just got a whole lot more interesting.

The End.

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