TITLE: Darwinian Theory

AUTHOR: Divine Joker

EMAIL: "Did they really say that I was the next genetic step? A step up the evolutionary chain?"

SPOILERS: Fragile Balance, Broca Divide… uhm… anything up to Fragile Balance.

RATING: G

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, not mine… MGM et al.

A/N: So this has been sitting on my hard drive since July and my muse finally struck me over the head with an idea for it. It was originally completely dialogue, but I never realized how much you lose that way. So, this is it. I guess this also my way of avoiding writing anything to do with 'Chimera.'

Thanks to Tricia… even with the peer pressure!

(( ))

"Hey, Carter?"

She looked up from her desk to see him striding into her lab. A little flutter of anxiety – or was it anticipation – ate at the bottom of her gut. She suppressed a teasing grin as he immediately picked up a pencil from her workstation and began to twirl it with his right hand even before she could answer, "Yes, sir?"

He paused and took a long look around the room and then his eyes darted to rest on her face for a few moments before whisking off again. He cleared his throat. "You know when we were on Loki's ship… and he and Thor were talking about all the genetic mumbo-jumbo stuff?"

She held her breath for a moment, confused as to his train of thought, but couldn't hold back the next, "Yes, sir?" that escaped.

"Did they really say that I was the next genetic step? A step up the evolutionary chain?"

"Yes, sir."

Again.

"And for the whole theory of evolution to really work, only the fittest survive – procreate – and pass on their genes, right?"

"Yes, sir." She needed to find another way to respond to his questions. The fluttering that she had noticed earlier was growing steadily in the wake of his questions and she decided that she really wanted to know where he was going with his thought process.

"So that means for anything to come from the fact that I'm genetically advanced, I'd have to have kids, right?"

Kids? The niggle became an all-out tingly feeling. She cleared her throat.

"Yes, sir."

"Why is that?"

What could she possibly say to that? She ducked her head to the tabletop to avoid his gaze until he cleared his throat and regained the hold that he had on her eyes once again.

"Carter?"

"You want genetic theory, sir?" Okay, this was getting down right creepy.

"Why is it that for evolution to take place, procreation has to occur?"

"Well, sir, science dictates that for new life to be born, a combination of two strands of genetic material must combine. Under many different circumstances, the best qualities of both donors combine to create one organism that holds the best chances of survival."

He was silent for a minute too long and Sam had to look at him to gauge his reaction.

"Sir?"

"Darwin; survival of the fittest. All that stuff?"

She blinked. Sam shouldn't have been surprised that he knew that; after all, it wasn't like he really was as slow as he made himself to look like.

"Yes, sir."

"So base instinct dictates that mates will be attracted to the other because of their potential to create an offspring that has the best chances of creating even more offspring and so on and so on. Right?"

"Yes, sir."

"So… when we were infected with the Broca virus, and our base instincts took over… you… ah…"

Oh, dear God. She could feel the blush start at the nape of her neck and crawl it's slow, embarrassing way up into her cheeks.

"You believed that I was the best…"

She swallowed thickly and felt the desperate urge to run from the confining lab. Unfortunately he was standing between her and her escape, so she was forced to answer, "Yes, sir," once more.

"Okay."

They were silent for a few second and in lieu of something better to do with him still in the room, she asked, "Sir? Why are you asking?"

He seemed to grow inordinately interested in the pencil that he was holding.

"Colonel?"

"Well, you know… for the betterment of the Asgard and of course, our own human evolution… I've been… kinda thinking. Maybe…" he petered out, his eyes still wandering the walls.

"Yes?" she tried regaining his attention by shifting in her seat, but she could feel the tingly feeling sprouting into something much more dangerous.

He remained silent, deigning to answer and Sam knew with a certainty that the feeling in her gut was justified.

"Maybe you should what, sir?"

"I'm thinking that I should, you know…"

Something clicked in her head and her stomach lurched. From genetic theory to procreation to the 'betterment of the human race' and Sam could instantly see where he was going with his thoughts. "Oh."

"But I can't just… you know."

"Right." She cleared her throat again and found her own gaze wandering the silent, grey walls of her lab.

He was too silent and she didn't know what to say either, but soon it became unbearable and Sam couldn't stop fidgeting in her seat. She took a deep breath and eyes him suspiciously.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Was there anything… Can I help with anything…" Okay, whatever she said to end that sentence was not going to sound how she wanted it too. She stopped and sighed again, avoiding his gaze.

"Carter?"

"Anything ELSE?"

He opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it with a snap. He pursed his lips in thought and then released his breath with a flutter of his lips.

Sam was suddenly overcome with the desperate need to get him out of her lab. Out. Away; FAR away. She needed to regain her equilibrium when it came to conversing with the Colonel. "Well, I've got some…"

"Wanna come over for dinner tonight?"

So much for balance. Her jaw hit the table and she blinked, positive that she'd heard him wrong, but he didn't make a move to correct himself.

"Carter?"

Say no, sayno, saynosaynosaynosayno…

"Yes."