Title: Behind the Mission Report
Author: Isabelle Ashe
Rating: PG
Keywords: Sam/Jack, Daniel/Janet, humor (I hope), angst
Spoilers/Season: the latter half of season 7, especially Grace, Heroes 2, and The Lost City 2
Summary: Dr. Weir gains insight into the side of SG-1 that doesn't appear in the mission reports.
Author's Notes: This is essentially a post-season 7 fic, written before any of season 8 or Atlantis had aired. Ihad read a few spoilers for season 8 and for Atlantis, but I ignored them and onlyworked off of what we know at the end of season 7.At the time, I wasn't sure ingeneralhow Ifelt about Dr. Elizabeth Weir, but for this fic, she was perfect because she embodies the outside observer. (Incidentally, I now love Weir!)
"Good afternoon, Dr. Weir." Elizabeth Weir looked up from her menu at the sound of her name and smiled at the man approaching her table at the sparsely populated restaurant.
"General Hammond," she said in greeting, standing to shake his hand before motioning to the chair across from her. "Thank you for agreeing to see me."
"Always a pleasure, Doctor." They exchanged more pleasantries as the server took their orders. As the conversation lulled, the general brought up the topic that brought them together. "You mentioned on the phone that you wanted to ask my advice. I assume this has something to do with the subject of Colonel O'Neill's retirement."
Elizabeth nodded. "So you've heard, then. You don't seem surprised."
"No, I was rather expecting it once we found out he was going to be okay. Of course, he's been threatening to resign for years, but this time I could tell he was really serious."
"You think so? I was hoping you might help me convince him to change his mind."
George chuckled. "That mind, I'm afraid, is not easily changed." He paused. "In all seriousness, though—and this is off the record—I think it's the right time. He would be looking at a promotion and a desk job, which I know he would hate. Major Carter is more than ready to command SG-1, and her promotion is in the works as well, by the way. Jack O'Neill has served this country and this planet more than any other person alive. Even by modest estimates he should have died a dozen times by now. Even his luck can't last forever. He has plans I know he's kept on hold for years to do his job; they deserve all the peace and happiness they can get."
"They?"
"That, I'm afraid, is so off the record I won't say. But wait and see." Dr. Weir raised an eyebrow quizzically and opened her mouth to ask a further question, but Hammond shook his head. "If I'm right, you'll know soon enough."
The server returned with their food at that moment, and the conversation paused for a few moments as they began to eat.
"I suppose you're right," concluded Weir meditatively after a pause. "After all that he's sacrificed, I suppose O'Neill does deserve to retire if he wants to. I had rather hoped for the benefit of his experience as I am trying to adjust to this job, though."
"Well, I doubt he's going too far away. And you still have the rest of SG-1."
She sighed. The question touched on the other main concern she wanted to bring before her predecessor but was less comfortable with. "Do I? I know the mission reports backwards and forwards, sir, and the SG-1 I've seen in the past month is not the same team I've read about," she challenged. Hammond studied her for a minute but did not say anything, so she continued her explanation. "The team I've read about goes 110 all the time, saving the world, working themselves to the bone, never quitting, even to the point of being ordered to take vacation. Maybe all that has taken its toll. Even before the battle, Dr. Jackson was making himself scarce—very much the nine-to-fiver, which I understand is unusual. And since O'Neill has been back I don't know that I've seen him or Major Carter more that three or four times. And Teal'c, well, I can't quite figure him out yet." She finished with a small amount of frustration as her companion nodded thoughtfully.
"It's been a hard year," he said softly. "Harder than most, especially with this attack so recently. Something like that really wears on your sense of security, even though we won. I'm sure O'Neill and Carter are just trying to recover from that. And don't underestimate the ongoing effects of losing Dr. Fraiser like we did. Dr. Jackson is really committing himself to spending as much time as possible with Cassie before she goes to college in the fall, so I'm sure that's why he hasn't been around so much."
"Cassie?" interrupted Elizabeth. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.
"Cassandra Fraiser," answered General Hammond.
"Of course," she answered, though she still wasn't sure what Cassandra Fraiser had to do with Dr. Jackson.
As if reading her mind, Hammond continued, "Dr. Jackson is all Cassie has now in the way of family—other than the rest of SG-1, I suppose—and he really is like her father. And despite all that's happened since Dr. Fraiser's death, it was only two months ago. They're still doing a lot of grieving."
Dr. Weir felt a flash of realization hit her. "Dr. Jackson and Dr. Fraiser were—"
Hammond nodded.
"Oh!" She paused. "That, uh, wasn't in the mission reports, but it definitely would have been helpful to know."
"There's a lot that isn't in the mission reports, Dr. Weir. I know it's hard at first, but they will let you get to know them eventually. You have to know these people to lead them." He hurried on in an effort to quell her defensive expression. "You're doing a great job, and I can't imagine a more difficult set of circumstances to come in under." He paused, his face growing thoughtful. "I think I remember something that may help. Several months ago, right after Major Carter saved the Prometheus, Colonel O'Neill hosted an SGC barbeque. Cassandra Fraiser had just gotten a video camera, and she and Jonas Quinn, who happened to be on-world at the time, ran around filming the whole party. Unfortunately, they were too free with alien jokes and classified information, and I had to confiscate the tape. It should still be in the files. Watch that tape, Dr. Weir, and learn a little more about the people behind the mission reports."
Back at the SGC, Dr. Weir had found the tape designated "Barbeque 9/15/03" easily, and that evening she locked herself in her office to see what it contained.
The tape opened on the attractive face of a teenage girl, her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Elizabeth assumed that this was Cassandra Fraiser.
"Is it on, Jonas?" the girl asked.
"I don't know. I've never used one like this before," answered the voice of the camera operator.
"Did you push the button?" Cassie got up and moved toward the camera, and then the screen went blank abruptly. A moment later Cassie reappeared in her original position. She smiled mischievously at the camera. "We are aliens come to Earth to record this peculiar Tau'ri custom: bar-be-que!!!" Behind the camera, Jonas chuckled at his friend's exaggerated pronunciation. "I am Cassandra of Hanka, and this is Jonas of Kelowna." At this juncture, Jonas jerkily turned the camera around and waved into it briefly. "And we have the good fortune to eavesdrop on those intergalactic heroes, the SG teams, as they eat too many hot dogs and drink too much beer." Again, Jonas chuckled, and Elizabeth wondered if he had already started on the beer himself. "Onward, Jonas!" concluded Cassie, standing up and gesturing with one hand to a well-populated backyard. The camera jostled considerably as Jonas stood up himself, and the picture went black again.
The camera turned back on, again focused on Cassie, who now appeared to be crouched behind a low patio wall. Voices could be heard fairly distinctly in the background. "The key to getting good footage," whispered the enterprising young director to the camera, "is to catch people unaware so that they're being natural. Otherwise, Sam will turn into a babbling idiot, Teal'c will completely freeze up, and Jack—well, I'm not sure what Jack would do."
"Watch Sam babble," interposed Jonas. Cassie giggled.
"Probably. But he'd do that anyway. Okay, Jonas, from over the top of this wall, you should be able to get a good, clear shot of the patio and the grill."
"You know," Jonas commented as he changed positions and jostled the camera again, "this is probably the closest I've ever gotten to Jack's grill. I think he's always afraid I'll catch something on fire."
The next shot zoomed in on a jeans and t-shirt-clad Colonel O'Neill standing behind a smoking grill wielding barbeque tongs. His attention was divided between the meat he was cooking and the people filling his backyard. The camera followed his gaze as he watched Sam Carter leave Major Davis and General Hammond and walk up to the big cooler on the patio.
"Hey Carter, you wanna toss me another one of those?"
"Regular or light, sir?"
"Regular or light? You wound me, Major! Do I look like the kind of man who drinks light beer? I thought you knew me better than that, Carter." Sam grinned as she popped the caps off of two bottles of Bud. She walked slowly over to O'Neill, extending one of the beers to him before taking a long swig of the other.
"Kidding, sir."
"Right."
"So how long till we get to eat?" she asked, angling for a view of the grilling meat over O'Neill's shoulder. Dr. Weir noticed how he allowed her to stand close for a long, quiet moment before shaking the tongs at her playfully.
"Ah, ah, ah, Carter. My barbeque, remember! You'll get plenty of meat in good time. It's almost done."
She put a mock-resentful expression on her face as she stepped away. "Well, hurry up, sir. Some of us are getting hungry." She took another swig of beer as she headed back toward the yard.
"Patience, Carter," he called after her.
She stopped and flashed him a megawatt smile. "Don't worry, sir. I've got lots of patience." She walked away, heading towards a group of the scientists who were waving her over. The camera moved back to O'Neill, focusing on his face as he stared gaping after her. Cassie and Jonas both giggled, and the shot went black.
Elizabeth Weir had suspected during her earlier conversation with General Hammond that Major Carter was the other half of the "they deserve some happiness" equation. Even she had been in the SGC long enough to have heard the rumors about O'Neill and Carter, and anyone with half a brain would have suspected that Carter's impassioned and tireless efforts to restore O'Neill during the week and a half that he was frozen in Antarctica were motivated by stronger feelings than team loyalty. Well, she thought, good luck to them.
She turned her attention back to the screen. Cassie and Jonas had positioned themselves somewhere in the yard and were eavesdropping on a fairly humorous conversation in which Teal'c was attempting to explain the principle behind the "Joe Millionaire" TV show to the pop culturally ignorant Daniel Jackson. Suddenly, Dr. Jackson's attention was caught by something off-camera, and his face lit up with a huge smile. Elizabeth's breath caught as she was taken by surprise by Janet Fraiser walking into the camera's range. She had never met Dr. Fraiser, and unfortunately, the only visual reference she had for the deceased physician was the documentary produced shortly after Fraiser's death. Somehow, watching this woman die had not prepared her for the image of Janet Fraiser on the screen in front of her, full of life, dressed in jeans and a tank top and drinking a beer.
"Hey, you!" she called to Daniel as she walked up. Teal'c and Daniel were occupying the only lawn chairs in the vicinity, so Daniel took her hand and pulled her into his lap.
"Ugh!" interposed Cassie's voice. "Get a room, you two!"
"Oh, come on, Cass," Jonas replied. "You know you're happy for them."
"Yeah, I am," she admitted. "I've never seen Mom so happy before. Daniel either. But I swear if I walk in on them making out on the couch one more time . . . Do you have any idea how much trouble I would be in if she caught me doing some of the stuff I've found them doing? They've got a bedroom, for crying out loud!"
"Do you know this 'Joe Millionaire' show, hon?" Daniel was asking Janet as Cassie finished her rant.
"Sure. Cassie watches it pretty religiously. I'm sure you've seen it."
"Is it the one where the guy thinks he's getting the girl and a million bucks but then has to choose between them?" Daniel asked warily.
"No, I believe you are confusing 'For Love or Money' with 'Joe Millionaire,' DanielJackson," Teal'c replied. Janet nodded in agreement but kissed the frustrated-looking Daniel for good measure.
"Jeez, you couldn't pay me enough to go on one of those shows."
"I didn't know you were considering it!" joked Janet, sitting up and turning to look at him with mock offense.
"I'm not! That's the point!" he protested. "Fortunately," he continued with a smile, "I don't need to." He wrapped his arms tightly around her and pulled her close, planting a kiss on the nape of her neck.
"Ack, Jonas, turn it off! We've had quite enough parental p.d.a.!"
Dr. Weir hit the pause button before the screen went black and stared at the smiling couple on the screen, a deep ache building in her gut. She wondered what Cassandra would give to see her parents kiss and cuddle now. She thought of Dr. Jackson as she knew him, haunted and distracted, having lost the woman he loved to the Goa'uld for a second time in his relatively young life. It isn't fair, she concluded bitterly, watching the beautiful woman frozen forever in the still frame of the video. Bregman's documentary had portrayed Janet Fraiser as a hero who made the ultimate sacrifice—and no doubt she was. But this other video, Elizabeth suspected, showed an equally, if not more, valid picture of Janet Fraiser as mother, lover, friend, woman.
The pause clicked off automatically, and the tape continued. The next shot seemed to be several hours later, and since Jonas was on film, standing in the yard talking to Sergeant Siler, Elizabeth assumed Cassie was now filming. Dinner appeared to be over, and the camera turned to capture Janet opening the patio door for Daniel, who gingerly carried a large, decorated cake. The next shot was a close-up of the cake, which read "Way to go, Sam!" above a red and blue rocket streaking through the stars.
"I wanted to get them to do a little frosting model of the Prometheus, Carter, but Hammond said that would be a security breach," joked O'Neill. Carter looked up at him and rolled her eyes affectionately.
"You guys did not need to do this," she demurred.
"Hey, I promised you cake, and cake you shall have!" Everyone laughed. Jack lifted his beer to signal to the crowd. "Toast, everybody! To Carter, who single-handedly saved the day—again!"
"To Major Carter!" resounded the cry.
"And may the Goa'uld's asses be well and truly kicked!"
"Hear! Hear!"
Cassie panned the camera around the celebratory crowd before turning it off for the last time. Elizabeth stared at the blank screen, lost in her thoughts of these remarkable people whose lives she was now indirectly responsible for. Of Janet Fraiser, for whom it was too late. Of Daniel Jackson and Cassandra Fraiser, who loved her and now grieved for her. Of Jack O'Neill and Sam Carter, for whom, miraculously, it was not too late.
She was snapped out of her melancholy reverie by a sharp tap at her door. When she opened it, she was surprised to find Colonel O'Neill standing on the other side.
"Colonel! What are you doing here so late?"
"Ah, well, Carter needed to check on something in her lab, and I just kind of came along for the ride." He looked at the floor and shifted awkwardly.
"Yes. Well, do come in, Colonel." Dr. Weir held the door open and motioned him in with her hand.
"I just wanted to make sure you had gotten my letter of resignation."
"I did. And while I wish we weren't losing you—and I wasn't losing the benefit of your experience and expertise—I understand that after all you've been through, you must be looking forward to some rest."
He nodded and smiled faintly, his glance straying briefly toward the door while his thoughts, Elizabeth suspected, strayed to Major Carter's lab. "It's the right time. I have some things I want to do with my life before it's too late. I'm not getting any younger, you know," he remarked, finishing lightly.
"Good luck, Colonel."
"Thank you, Doctor." He walked toward the door but paused before going through it, turning around again to look at her. "Good luck to you, too. You're doing a good job. I can see that you know what's really important around here."
The End