TITLE: All's Fair in Love & War

AUHOR: Helen Taft

PAIRING: Sam/Jack

GENRE: AU/Angst/Action

RATING: Mature (To be on the safe side)

SUMMARY: AU. Sam did leave the Air Force after the first Abydos mission, but gets enticed back by General Hammond to participate in the new programme. Colonel Jack O'Neill, suspicious about her motives for resigning, is not so happy at having yet another civilian scientist foisted on him as part of the deal.

NOTES: This in no way relates to the alternate universe where Jack dies, or any as seen on the show. Also, a few lines of dialogue have been taken from the very first episode; other than that though this is an entirely different scenario.

SPOILERS: None.

FEEDBACK: Loved and appreciated.

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and the characters are the property of MGM and the production team. There is no infringement intended and no profit made.

THANKS to Cindy for the beta!

NOTES: This is another old one was way back that I'm posting here as a permanent home. A few have complained of eye strain with me posting large fics in one chapter so this is going to be posted in smaller chunks to accommodate that.

PROLOGUE

Sam was late, and fate was conspiring to make her later by throwing everyone in her path while she tried to make up time. Case in point, she dodged around a corporal carrying an armload of containers and nearly collided with a nurse. Pasting on a brief smile of apology, she hurried to catch up with her escort. Damn it! One, she despised being late more now than when she'd still been in the Air Force; and two, this was an important meeting that, if handled right, could help her achieve an ambition that had been burning in her gut for three years now.

Crap, crap, crap! Why couldn't everything have gone smoothly this morning? No, that wasn't quite right. Everything had been peachy until she arrived at the first checkpoint. Her eyes turned glass-hard as she entered yet another elevator. Was it too much to ask that a top level security compound like this have its shit together on who they were and weren't expecting?

The cussing was unusual, even for a purely inner monologue, but she was irritated enough to need one or two as a vent. Stood beside her, Major Samuels shifted on his feet and slid her a curious look. Not feeling chatty, Sam ignored him in favour of the steam building in her head.

She'd taken such care with her appearance that morning, too. Picking the right suit that managed to be feminine and yet military crisp at the same time; she'd fussed over her hair and face to make it look like she hadn't done more than run a brush through the first and dashed some gloss on her lips.

It was probably all for nothing now.

Somehow she just knew they'd look at her, rushing into the briefing in her civvies, and peg her as another one of those irresponsible, unreliable civilians who didn't have the common courtesy to arrive on time. The elevator bumped to a gentle stop and once the doors had slid back, Samuels waved her to precede him out into the corridor. Putting one foot in front of the other, Sam's mind kept to the same track. They would be wrong of course. Was it her fault that the right paperwork hadn't been passed to the SF's at the security gate?

Grateful for the semi-sensible pumps and pants she was wearing, she lengthened her stride and tried to compose a dignified explanation as she was led along the maze of stark and utilitarian corridors of Cheyenne Mountain. It was no good; no matter which way she phrased it, her excuses would come off sounding horribly defensive and as if she was trying to pass the buck.

The already tense muscles in her shoulders tightened another notch and she could literally feel the flush glowing hotter in her cheeks. Oh great, Sam, arrive there looking frazzled and flustered just to make a bad impression worse why don't you? It was a good point. Yanking back on her nerves, she caught up to Samuels as he stood ready to open the door to her destination. She'd finally arrived. Damp-palmed, she tugged her jacket down and smoothed a crooked lapel. With that done, and schooling her expression to calm and unruffled, she strode into the briefing room.

"Where's he transferring from?"

Catching the tail end of her introduction, minus her actual presence, Sam focused on General Hammond and said, "Sorry I'm late." Her smile was professional and she kept it brief and succinct, "There was a delay with security."

Reaching the table and a spare seat, she remained standing and looked across at the man who'd just asked where she was transferring from. Of course he'd assumed she was male and Air Force. Suppressing an eye roll, her first thought was that the photos in his file didn't do him justice. In person, he had an indefinable edge that age and experience only added to. Her second thought was that it was immediately obvious his reputation as an eccentric hard-ass was well earned.

Oh Joy!

Her spine stiffened. Not that she'd expected any different. Black-ops wasn't exactly renowned for turning men into Mr. Sensitive. Now, face-to-face with him, she was doubly glad she'd insisted on seeing the relevant personnel files immediately after accepting the job at the SGC, not to mention the candid conversations she'd had with her few remaining contacts who dug up some 'personal' views on the colonel. She had the advantage on him in that regard and Sam figured she was going to need every one of those she could get.

"She isn't transferring from anywhere," she corrected him. "I'm a civilian scientific contractor." Holding out her hand across the table for him to shake it, she finished, "I take it you're Colonel O'Neill?"

His polite smile didn't reach watchful dark eyes. Silently, he took her hand and easily enveloped it with his large one. Irreverently, Sam recalled a saying about men with large hands and her eyes flared before she could squash the thought. Even after their hands dropped again, she could feel the imprint of his palm on hers.

"That would be me," he confirmed, adding with heavy emphasise, "Dr. Carter?"

So, it was beginning already. Her chin lifted to meet that challenge, "Call me Sam."

"Not Samantha?" piped up an amused voice further down the table. There were more sounds of choked amusement.

Sam was surprised when it was O'Neill who sent them a quelling look rather than General Hammond. Then rapid-fire, he introduced the other two men she hadn't met before. What he didn't know was that, thanks to those files, she did recognise them as Ferretti and Kawalski, two of O'Neill's first team members.

That done and locking gazes with her again, he nodded towards the empty seat and when she took the hint and sat, he asked her, "Do you have any idea what to expect when you walk through that Stargate, doctor?"

It was obvious he was going to seriously resist including her on his team and, also, that he wasn't going to call her Sam. So be it. She folded her hands on the table. "I was studying the 'gate technology for two years before Dr. Jackson deciphered the symbols and I've read your report on the first mission to Abydos. So, to answer your question, Colonel, yes, I think I have a pretty good idea."

Leaning forward to get everyone's attention, Kawalski's smirk clued her in. "I think what the Colonel is saying is, have you ever pulled out of a simulated bombing run in an F-16 at 8-plus G's?"

He clearly expected the answer not to be anything except a clear "No". Sam was proud of the fact that triumph didn't leak into either her expression or voice. "Yes."

There was a resounding silence. General Hammond, who she guessed had been letting a few things get aired upfront, confirmed to the room as a whole, "Dr. Carter was an Air Force Captain until a year ago." He eyeballed Colonel O'Neill down the length of the table. "A combat-experienced officer with over a 100 hours flight-time logged during the Gulf War, I might add."

Sam had been watching the Colonel out of the corner of her eye and, seeing suspicion leap into those brown eyes, she couldn't resist killing two birds with one stone. Mimicking Kawalski, she said "I think what the General's saying is that, despite my reproductive organs being on the inside, I can still handle anything you can."

She didn't expect him to take it on the chin and he didn't. This time his smile was anything but polite. "Oh, this has nothing to do with you being a woman. I like women. I just have a little problem with scientists."

"Astrophysicist if you want specifics," she shot back, still ultra civil and relaxing now that he'd latched onto the new topic and not asked the question she'd been dreading.

"Which means?"

"Which means she is smarter than you are, Colonel," interjected Hammond. "Especially in matters related to the Stargate."

Then obviously tiring of the topic, he closed it with a firm, "Dr. Carter's assignment on this mission is not an option, Colonel."

Subsiding with tossed-up hands, O'Neill got back to the briefing and handed out a series of notes. Sam was handed hers with exaggerated care, which told her far more clearly than words could have, that the topic was only closed in this room.

Her jaw was so tight she had to forcibly unlock it. Glancing down at the blue card-bound pages, she sucked in a long breath and thought to herself, bring it on, Colonel, bring it on! After the last time, Sam was damned if she was going to let anyone get her shunted aside.

Jack's rap on General Hammond's office door was a little sharper than he'd intended. Wincing and hoping he hadn't already botched his chances of getting a decent hearing off his new commander, he opened it with a lot more circumspection after being invited to enter. The man himself was seated behind the wide expanse of a desk and signing a sheet perched atop a pile of other paperwork. Now there was a task he didn't envy, or the desk for that matter. Desks came with telephones and a whole lotta politics. He only hoped he wasn't about to be made a victim of some of that crap himself.

If so he hoped to find out now and fix it before he was stuck with it- her.

"Sir," he nodded and after receiving one in return, stood waiting at relaxed attention in front of Hammond's desk. For once he didn't mind the wait, as it gave him a chance to take the man's measure, or try to anyway. Bald and stout, George S. Hammond, two-star USAF general, had managed to see through the holes in his previous Abydos report and manipulate him into a position where he'd have to confess the truth. That kind of perception and wiliness made for one very wary Jack O'Neill.

General West hadn't questioned it; he'd looked relieved actually. He still couldn't figure out how the hell Hammond had seen through it all. It'd been like he'd known that Daniel was still alive. Impossible, and yet he couldn't shake the suspicion that Hammond had got a kick out of tripping him up.

Finished with writing his signature, the General looked up and a knowing smile tugged briefly before he dismissed it. "Colonel, if you've come here looking for a way to dissuade me from including Dr. Carter in your team, then you're wasting your time."

The inference was that he would also be wasting the General's time, but Jack was happy to ignore hints that didn't suit him. "General, feel free to tell me if I'm barking up the wrong alien here, but isn't your missing sergeant an attractive woman?"

Visibly bemused, Hammond frowned at the topic, "I beg your pardon?"

"The only person taken by the aliens was a woman, and a pretty one, or so I'm told. What if she was taken for that very reason?" Seeing he wasn't exactly getting through, he held up a hand to ward off being shut down before he'd finished. "All I'm saying is that it's possible that taking an extremely attractive civilian through the gate right now might be a bigger risk than we need."

"So, your only concern is for Dr. Carter's safety, is that it?"

"Uhm, yeah"

That didn't sound convincing even to his own ears. Grimacing, he was forced to admit, "Okay, no, not my only concern, but it still is a risk."

"Sergeant Miller could simply have been perceived as an easier target given her position on the ramp." argued Hammond, folding his hands on the desk. "Perhaps they were looking for a means of extracting information about Earth, in which case sex or attractiveness has no bearing."

"True." Jack was forced to admit.

Damn!

Theorising just wasn't his strong suit. During his shave-and-mirror run–through, he hadn't been able to counteract that argument when it'd occurred to him either. He'd had the vain hope that flying by the seat of his pants would gain him some inspiration. And hadn't that worked out great- not!

Sighing, Hammond leaned both elbows on his desk and then asked him directly, "What exactly is your problem with Dr. Carter?"

Put on the spot like that, Jack stared and wondered, "What part of 'extremely attractive' didn't the man not get?" Then he realised that fact didn't have anything to do with it. He'd gotten so caught up in stopping her from getting on his team, that he'd forgotten to analyse whyhe didn't want her there. The problem wasn't that he'd started drooling on sight, even if he had. Hell, he'd worked in the field with women before and some of them had been plenty pleasing on the eyes. Of course, he'd been a happily married man at the time, but that was beside the point. At forty seven, he was old enough to control his libido.

"I don't trust her." he blurted.

Hammond's frown dug some serious grooves in his forehead, "Care to tell me why not?"

Uncomfortable, Jack shrugged and this time the words flowed, "With all due respect, and maybe I'm wrong, Sir, but the timing fits. She left because she couldn't get West to agree to her going through the 'gate on the first mission, didn't she?"

Meaning, she hadn't been a career officer, but a brainiac with both eyes locked firmly on the career ladder. That was fine, but he didn't want her in the field with him. Maybe it was old-fashioned, but he preferred having a dedicated soldier watching his six and not someone on the lookout for promotional prospects and pitching a tantrum when she didn't get it. Even if she'd left the military, that kind of attitude didn't just fade.

"She was supposed to have gone with you last time," Hammond looked darned uncomfortable with the topic, but was obviously compelled for some obscure reason to continue. "But, General West changed his mind at the very last minute while she was en-route."

That titbit took a second to digest. He tried to imagine the leggy blonde from the briefing room clubbing her way past a platoon of Ra's Jaffa and failed. Well, failed if you excluded a microsecond of fantasy involving Ra's slave-girl outfits, which was all the more reason not to include her in this second mission. All of that aside, they were supposedly pursuing hostile aliens and he needed another scientist to mollycoddle like he needed a hole in the head.

"That's tough, but we all get disappointed." Jack was obdurate, "It doesn't mean we throw in the towel and take our ball home, General."

Sitting back, Hammond drummed his fingers on the desk's top. "I understand your concern and even applaud your reasoning, Son, but I want the best we have on this thing and Sam Carter is the best. There is nobody else with her detailed technical know-how of the Stargate. We need her."

"So, let her stay in the SGC?" suggested Jack with another, more casual shrug. Hey, he was male enough to appreciate that eye candy around the place was more than fine. So long as she stayed here.

"I tried that," said Hammond heavily, "and got turned down. Off-world duty was non-negotiable."

Even for a man with his self-confessed limitations, when it came to reading between the lines, he got the message loud and clear. She'd blackmailed her way into going through the Stargate this time. Infuriated, Jack opened his mouth to speak and then wised up and shut it again. He had no choice. It seemed like the good doctor had the upper hand. Like hell!

It was the strangest thing, getting into a uniform again. On the one hand, it felt like coming home again, so much so that a lump formed in Sam's throat, but on the other hand, it was also a reminder of bitter, bitter times that she'd spent the last few years trying to forget and failing miserably. When something becomes so much of your life, pulling free of it can feel like losing an essential piece of yourself. That is exactly what it felt like after resigning, like she'd lost an arm, or her heart.

The organ in question was currently trying to jump out of her chest. "Oh, yeah, I'm conflicted all right." she muttered, tucking in her t-shirt and then tightening the slack on the belt before clicking it securely.

When General Hammond had first contacted her and asked for an urgent meeting on a matter of national security, Sam had felt like the bottom had dropped out of her world, and then fitted itself right back in such a way as to tell her it had been wrong for a very long time. Oh, yeah like that was news. The word Stargate had popped into her head and she'd been standing there struck dumb with the phone glued to her ear. He hadn't said it of course, not then, but she'd leapt to that conclusion anyway.

As leaps go, it hadn't involved faith so much as logic. She'd spent two, solid years working on the Stargate project to get it up and running to the point of actual use. Twenty-four-hour days, with naps in between, had been the norm at one point, but she'd loved every minute of it and so hadn't cared. Curiosity, the promise of seeing the theories of brilliant minds and a few of her own realised, mixed with sheer stubbornness, had got her through. When others fell by the wayside, disillusioned by the lack of progress, and moved onto other assignments, she'd toughed it out and continued to search for answers to questions she was only just beginning to understand herself.

Until the day she'd sat in a general's office while he smirked at her and dismissively blew off the fact that he'd sent the team through four hours earlier than she'd been told she was to go through it. West had done it deliberately of course. He'd claimed she hadn't been contactable. That much had been true. She'd been sitting on a plane somewhere between Washington and Colorado with a huge, excited grin on her face.

The plummeting comedown from that excitement had left her dazed. Then it had sent her a little crazy. Her resignation had hit her CO's desk the next day. Sam had lost count over the last three years of how many times she'd wondered what might have happened if she'd just taken some leave, gone to a range and shot the hell out of man-shaped paper targets; she could have got into a bar fight or found a mountain to climb and screamed her lungs out at the sky…anything to relieve the storm of anger roiling inside; anything, other than tossed in her career.

O'Neill's expression after being told she'd once been in the Air Force flashed into her mind. Yeesh, she could practically see him jumping to conclusions. Tension made her fingers clumsy and the buckles on the thigh holster strap resisted being closed.

Finally done with the buckle, Sam straightened and blew out a breath that disturbed the short, blonde hair that had fallen to flop over her forehead. Shutting her locker, she told it, "Yeah, well, it's just too bad. I'm here to stay and he's just got to get used to it."

It had been pretty telling that Colonel O'Neill hadn't even known he'd been missing a team member a year ago. Not that she held a grudge against him for what happened. Why would she when he hadn't had anything to do with it? But that was then.

She'd bet everything she owned he'd been in Hammond's office sometime since the briefing, and doing his damndest to weasel out of taking her with him back to Abydos.

"Asshole!"

Luckily the locker room was empty and nobody could hear her mumbling to herself. Pulling on the camouflage jacket and strapping on the rest of her gear took a few minutes longer. Then bending down to swipe up the black helmet, she paused and it hit her.

God! She was finally going to get to do the one thing she'd dubbed her destiny three years ago. In an automatic defense against that bitter disappointment, it hadn't sunk in until this very moment. Her heart gave another little kick and, unbidden, Sam's mouth stretched into an ear-to-ear grin. She was here and who cared if O'Neill had issues. He could stuff them where the sun don't shine. She was here!

PART ONE

THREE WEEKS LATER

Beep beep – beep beep.

Sam's eyes popped open and she rolled over to press the alarm's off button. With silence falling once again, she rolled back and stretched lazily. Today marked the beginning of her fourth week at the SGC and she was already seeing the difference in herself. Instead of feeling dull and listless first thing in the morning, she was wide awake and raring to go. Finished working the sleep kinks out of her body, one corner of her lips tilted into a contented smile. Relaxed and alert, she took a second to enjoy the buzz zinging through her system. The same buzz that had disappeared the day she'd resigned from the Air Force.

It felt good, no, better than good, she felt renewed. It didn't matter that she was still Dr Carter and not Captain Carter. Rank hadn't been anything more than a means of getting herself heard by the powers-that-be and since that wasn't an issue anymore, she didn't feel the loss. It was the work, the Stargate and the people that kept her interested and challenged. Emphasise on challenge for a certain colonel with attitude.

Sam's smile turned into a grimace. He certainly kept her on her toes. For a guy whose poker face could rival a blank sheet of paper, he was transparent about his rancour over her continuing presence on his team. He was so vocal, she'd half expected General Hammond to give in and assign her to another team. He could always use the excuse that he needed to balance out the military element of SG-1. Except, he hadn't and O'Neill continued to vent in his own little ways.

SG-1, they even had a proper designation. Tucking a hand behind her head on the pillow, excitement began to build and eclipsed her concerns. Travelling light years in seconds through a wormhole and re-materialising on another planet was a rush, but that was only the beginning of the adventure; then there was the possibility of what they'd find on the other side.

Okay, so the yield hadn't exactly been great so far, but they were just beginning their explorations. It really was unbeatable and liking most of her team mates only made it better. They were a bizarre bunch that was for sure: archaeologist, astrophysicist, Jaffa and ex-black ops colonel. That just made it more interesting though. Daniel was a peach, smart and sensitive, and Teal'c for all his size was a weirdly soothing influence.

Colonel O'Neill was the only black spot.

She turned pensive again, as often happened when her thoughts turned his way. She just wished she could figure out what it was that was bugging him so much about her. On missions she tried so hard to prove to him that she could be an asset; obeying orders to the letter, biting her lip instead of snapping back at him when he made some sly remark aimed at getting a rise out of her. The worst was when she'd think she was finally getting somewhere with him. A few times he'd looked at her with a quizzical look in those deep brown eyes, as if he wanted to ask her something. Catching it, she'd hold her breath hoping for some civil conversation, only to have her hopes dashed when he dismissed the moment with a flippant remark and then sauntered away.

That hurt because in every other respect he was a man to admire; a no-nonsense, get-the-job-done commander, who was loyal, steadfast, witty if you didn't mind a dose of sarcasm and willing to take on any comers threatening someone he felt he owed. Of course his negatives where pretty colourful, too. O'Neill had to be the most stubborn, intractable, irascible male she'd ever met. He'd practically adopted Teal'c and made sure the Jaffa was accepted, eventually, and yet he refused to give her the benefit of the doubt. It didn't make any sense. She wasn't that hard to get along with.

She'd put it down to him being as dense as he sometimes appeared, but Sam was beginning to suspect that was a façade he liked to put up for God only knows what reason. She considered herself a good judge of character, but he eluded being button-holed, mores the pity. The only thing she was sure of was that something was festering away inside that head of his about her, but so far he was keeping it to himself. Sam just wished he'd keep his attitude that way, too.

Whether he was actually planning to or not, he was getting on her last nerve.

More than once over the last few weeks she'd seriously considered locking them both in a training room and telling him to do his worst. The idea held a certain appeal because if she beat him, he'd then have to stop treating her like a helpless civilian who didn't know one end of a rifle from another. Considering she was qualified up to Level 3 Advanced hand-to-hand that attitude ticked her off and then some. However, the downside to it, other than he'd accuse her, rightly, of being nuts was the possibility of a wholly different reaction to sustained physical contact.

That possibility was something she really didn't want to explore right now, or anytime soon.

Uncomfortable with the direction of her thoughts, she glanced towards the clock just as it changed to show 5:06. Given the early hour, the light filtering in from her closed curtains was minimal. With her furniture mere hulking shadows in the gloom, Sam felt the chill air on her bare arm. Not ready to get up yet, she retracted it under the covers and back to the warm nest she'd made during the night. The reprieve couldn't last long and knowing she had to brave the cold soon anyway, she made a mental note to change the timer on her heating and maybe buy some thicker and more encompassing nightwear.

Not surprisingly, the domestic drift of her thoughts didn't last long before returning to what was causing this particular buzz.

Today they were going through the stargate to P3X-595. The mission briefing was scheduled for oh-seven-thirty. Factoring in breakfast in the commissary and the required pre-mission exam from Dr Janet Frasier, she'd better get her skates on if she didn't want to give O'Neill the opportunity to offer some snide remarks. He never passed up an opportunity, not one.

That alone was enough to motivate her into finally throwing back the duvet to dash barefoot towards the shower. Twenty minutes later, she was chugging back a glass of cold milk and dressed in jeans, white shirt and red jacket with her hair still damp enough to darken the pure blond to burnished gold. Then glass rinsed, she snagged up her keys and with a bounce in her step headed for the front door and her car.

The drive to the mountain usually took about half an hour; twenty five minutes if she turned her stereo up loud. A few minutes after getting onto the I25 which would take her most of the way, a pair of headlights came up in her rear-view mirror. It was still dark enough to warrant them and she took no notice until it got close enough for her recognise the make of the big truck; it was a forest green Ford 4X4

She couldn't make out the licence plate, but the odds were at this time of the morning, and on this stretch of road, that it was Colonel O'Neill.

"Oh, great!"

Childishly, her first impulse was to accelerate and her car did leap forward under the pressure of her foot, until some sense returned and she eased up. Then, feeling like an idiot for even entertaining the notion of racing him, for God's sake, to work, she slowed down a little so that he and his truck passed her by.

The event horizon dissipated behind Teal'c's tall, muscular frame. Until recently First Prime to Apophis, he wore the forest green of the Tauri uniform with every bit as much of the proud grace he had his previous armour. Usually the very essence of unflappable stoicism, even he was struck dumb by the sheer beauty of the sight that greeted his arrival on P3X-595.

Emerald green mountain ranges ringed a lagoon of deep azure and a pristine beach dotted with palm trees. "It appears to be an oasis of great beauty, O'Neill."

Bemused, Jack turned a slow circle and breathed in the fragrance of hot sand, fresh clean water spray spiced up with a hint of lush, exotic flowers on the gentle breeze. "Oh, yeah, now this is more like it."

From a few feet away, Carter's impressed, "Wow!" drew his gaze her way. Framed by a truly spectacular mountain backdrop on her left, the current bane of his life was a sight herself. She hadn't bothered with the helmet this trip out and the sun shone bright gold in the hair that escaped her cap. Under the shade of the cap's peak, blue eyes sparkled enough to rival the deep blue lapping at the beach a few meters away.

He yanked his head away to stare elsewhere and almost cricked his damned neck in the process. Lucky for him, and his neck, distraction was at hand further on with Daniel, bless his scientific socks, picking up seashells and examining them like they were precious artefacts. For once he was in no mood to sneer. Particularly given he'd happily forgo a day's leave to be able to take off his boots and walk barefoot across the pristine sand. If they weren't all still new to one another he might well have done, and perhaps got in a little paddling, too. Instead, he tugged his cap down to shield his face and put on his shades.

With his expression hidden, he felt free to look at Carter directly. "I gotta hand it to ya, Doc, this time you caught us a sweet one."

Just as he'd expected irritation flickered over her face at the name he'd labelled her with. "Glad you like it, Colonel," she returned coolly.

Jack felt some of his own irritation flare, but his smirk didn't slip. She didn't like it? Too damned bad. He called her doc and she called him colonel which was exactly how it should be. She was a civilian under his command and he had a position to maintain; first name terms were out. Then Daniel blew that reasoning apart simply by calling over to him, "Jack," he said, "Can you hear drums?"

"I too can hear drums," Teal'c confirmed.

Cocking his head and listening, he caught the rhythmic sounds as well. Turning on her heel, Carter gestured beyond the Stargate and into the trees lining the beach. "It seems to be coming from that direction."

"Agreed," said Jack. Making a decision, he set off with the terse instruction, "Move out and exercise some caution, kids. I don't fancy any direct contact with the natives until we've checked them out."

They entered what looked to be the beginnings of a rainforest, but didn't go into it too far before coming out into another area of the same beach. Jack stepped out of the tree-line first and dropped to a crouch on spotting about a dozen people further down and near the rolling surf.

"We must have skirted a jut of forest or something," said Carter, settling herself next to him.

"Well, you know me, I always like to cut corners where I can," Jack replied sardonically. He could feel her looking at him to try and gauge if the quip was friendly or pointed. Not so sure himself and leaving it for her to decide, he gestured at the distant people and left the question open, "Anyone got any ideas on who they are and what they're doing?"

"They look human—" Carter began.

"And that looks like a canoe they're working on," finished Daniel from her other side.

Jack sliced him a look, "A canoe?"

"Looks like it."

Heaving a sigh, he gave Carter a passing, fake smile, "Looks like you lucked out on technological advancement, huh?"

Her muttered, "I'll live with it," he ignored as he cast a glance back the way they'd come.

"Oh, but we should make contact with these people," Daniel argued, obviously guessing what he was thinking.

Oh, here we go. "How did I know you were gonna say that?" Jack asked sarcastically.

It didn't take a genius. Under the helmet, Daniel was wearing his earnest expression. The one that warned of long, boring debates on the unique opportunity of observing different cultures long dead on Earth; what they ate, slept in, picked their noses with…yadda yadda yadda.

"They may know of the Goa'uld," Daniel pointed out, not even trying to hide his personal motives, "or even Apophis himself. Perhaps, even Sha're and Skaara."

Jack hesitated and stared down to the beach. Children cavorted close-by the adults. "I can't see it. They don't look brow-beaten enough."

Crouching down with his staff weapon towering over his head, Teal'c gave a short emphatic nod, "I agree with O'Neill. They show none of the browbeaten attributes I have seen on every Goa'uld occupied planet."

"Personally, I think it's too soon to tell, but…" Shrugging, Carter pushed a little, too. "General Hammond did say one of the overall objectives was to make peaceful contact with the people we meet off-world."

That earned her a filthy look before Jack gave in with ill-grace, "Fine, we go and chat to the nice canoe builders." Standing, he pointed a warning finger at both scientists, "But, I swear if anyone, even once, uses the phrase 'when in Rome', we're going back to the 'gate. No second chances!"

There was a second of silent confusion, before he elaborated in an irritable mutter. "I don't do skirts."

Rising, too, Teal'c appeared intrigued, "What is this 'when in Rome'?"

"Erm, I'll explain it later," fielded Daniel as they all stood to make their way towards the group of humans playing and working on the sand.

Shortly after, Sam had to give credit where credit was due; none of the guys were showing any awkwardness over the fact that like the men, the women wore little else other than flowers, linen skirts tied sarong-style and tattoos. Meaning, the rest of their lithe, brown bodies were bare. O'Neill's only telling reaction had been a brief squint up at the sky and a small shake of his head while he adjusted to limiting his view to faces wherever possible.

He had been a little unnerved by the enthusiastic welcome they'd gotten after making their presence known, but then so had she. Taken by the hand like long-lost relatives, they were herded into the forest and towards a village while naked children ran, giggling and whooping, ahead to announce their arrival. The village itself turned out to be little more than thatched huts clustered around a much larger, central one.

Hearing the commotion, adults teemed and converged on the group in an excited gaggle. Protests ignored, SG-1 soon found themselves festooned with garlands of sweet-smelling flowers. Even Teal'c's inhibiting glare and stiff features didn't deter such ebullient natives and he sported no less than two.

More drums were brought into play and with some of the men joining the kids in whooping and leaping, the decibel levels were high. "Well, at least they don't think we're gods," pointed out Daniel, seeing the discomfort on both Teal'c's and O'Neill's faces.

"I'll ask you to repeat that when you start sneezing," retorted O'Neill loudly, aiming a thanks-but-no-thanks smile, complete with warding off hand, to stop a woman trying to place a third around his neck. "Personally, I think I prefer the bowing down."

On cue, Daniel instantly gave an explosive sneeze that startled the welcome wagon into backing off abruptly.

In the middle of grinning down at a little girl with liquid brown eyes who'd been shyly exclaiming over her hair, Sam heard the griping and tossed him a laughing glance, saying, "Like that's a surprise."

Catching her admittedly impish smile, O'Neill's expression turned fixed. Jolted by it, Sam mulled over the prudence of challenging him, even in fun, and then did it anyway. "Admit it," she said, "you like the bowing and scraping?"

"Ah…" O'Neill's gaze dropped from her face to the flowers adorning her neck and then back again. Confusion clouded his face, "What?"

He suited the bemused look she noted, and not for the first time given he used it a lot; it softened his usual sardonic camouflage. Deciding to let him off the hook because he clearly hadn't been listening, she said tongue-in-cheek. "Never mind, Colonel, and if it's any consolation your macho image isn't ruined by the flowers."

Before he could respond the natives recovered from their startle and crowded closer again, causing O'Neill to mutter a curse and redirect his attention. He clutched his MP5 as if he was worried they might try and wrestle it off him. Sam rolled her eyes. Yeah, like he'd let that happen. She understood his reasons, but she had her safety on just like he did and she couldn't see these people even thinking of attempting to disarm them.

If she was wrong and they tried, well then, they'd find out it wasn't such a great idea.

Meanwhile, Daniel was attempting to communicate with a man who was big enough to be a sumo wrestler back on Earth and whose beaming smile could have lit a room. "Can you take me to your leader? Lee-der, do you have one?"

Frantic nods and fresh tugging drew them deeper into the village just as a small procession emerged from the central hut. They quickly settled themselves on a wide, woven mat that Sam assumed was probably made from some local plant.

Under an elaborate canopy decorated with beads, feathers and yet more flowers, a man lowered his bulk onto a carved stool. They'd obviously caught the local dignitaries out on the hop with their sudden appearance and they were rushing to catch up.

By the time they stepped foot on the mat, a crowd of people were sat cross-legged around the man and his retinue. Considering he wore an actual outfit and, instead of flowers or leaves, he wore a headpiece, it was obvious he was the big-wig around here.

"Howdy," said Jack, and tipped him a casual salute.

The slightly irreverent greeting earned him a glare off Daniel. Seeking to allay that first impression, the archaeologist rushed into speech.

"Hello, please excuse my friend, he's…" unable to ad-lib a suitable excuse, Daniel faltered and then ploughed on, "Anyway, thank you for such a wonderful welcome. I'm Daniel Jackson and this Colonel Jack O'Neill, Dr. Carter and Teal'c. We come in peace to explore and meet new people."

"Howdy," said the man after a pause; echoing Jack. Under the headdress his weathered face creased into a big, toothy grin and he guffawed, obviously delighted with his own joke. Then composing himself, he nodded sagely and spoke, "We are a peaceful people, so it is good that you are peaceful, too."

Swinging back from a survey of who was standing where, Jack grinned, "Oh, peace is my middle name."

"You have many names," observed the Chief with another chuckle that was picked up and carried on by his people. "I have only two, King Tuaman."

"King Tauman?" echoed Daniel.

King Tauman gave him a look that suggested he thought he might be addle-brained. "Yes. You do not have Kings where you come from?"

Oooh, trick question. Sam decided it was time to speak up. "Sure, lots, just not where we live." Seeing she'd confused the man, she opted not to get into a debate on democracy and back-peddled a smidgeon, "Our leader is like a king, sort of, but he has another title."

"This leader who is not called King sent you to visit us?"

"Yes," jumped in Daniel, "Absolutely."

"That is good. May I have the name of the man who sends his envoys to visit Tahata?"

Taking the question literally rather than relating it back to Sam's allusion to presidents, Jack answered, "General Hammond, great guy. He sends his greetings etc., etc."

TBC