How to Make a Start
by ALC Punk!

But, really, that was no reason for Daniel to call her ditzy.

"Daniel," her tone was sharp, and she gestured with the component she'd been tinkering with. "I don't have time for this."

He made a face, and crossed his arms, "Sam, you don't have time for anything."

"I know, I just..." Fine. He was guilting her into it. She scrubbed a hand across her face. "What is it?"

"Pete. You do remember you have a fiancé, yes?"

"Yes," she snapped, irritated. "It's a little hard to forget."

"Even if you don't wear the ring."

"I don't want to damage it," she defended, even more irritated. Lab accidents were even more common at the SGC, and considering the number of chemical burns, heat burns and equipment scratches her hands had sustained over the last eight years, trusting that one thin band of gold with a big, honkin' diamond on it wouldn't be damaged was like hoping General O'Neill had read your report. Prior to the briefing. And, a little niggling voice in her brain said, you just don't want to wear it.

"Uh-huh." Rolling his eyes, Daniel relaxed his stance slightly, "Well, Sam, I'm here to inform you that your fiancé was on a case yesterday, involving the zoo."

"Colorado Springs has a zoo?" Well, no one ever said she got out much.

"Yes, Sam, it does," more exaggerated patience from the man fast becoming her *least* favorite archeologist. Maybe she'd go home and curl up and watch Raiders of the Lost Ark for a real man. "And Pete was working a case involving kidnaped animals."

"I think he mentioned something about that the last time I talked to him." Actually, she hadn't been paying attention, too busy correlating data in her mind and wondering if Pete would notice if she slept on base for a week so she didn't have to go far from her lab. She was *this* close to a break-through, and it would be nice to have something to show to the Pentagon. Or they might stop sending her donuts.

"Did he?"

"Yeah."

"And you were oh so interested, I'm sure."

"Maybe?" Exasperated, she waved a hand and continued, "Look, Daniel, I'm busy. Just get to the point."

"Pete was run over by an emu yesterday, and killed in the line of duty."

Sam blinked. "The-huh-what now?" She gaped.

"Dead. And unlike me, he can't come back."

Okay. She was pretty sure she was supposed to feel something. Surprise? Grief? Maybe a little pain and sadness at the idea that she wasn't going to marry him--oh. There it was. She grabbed the lab bench and blinked. "Very blunt, Dr. Jackson."

"Well, Sam, I don't know what else to be."

"Yeah..."

"Sam?"

"I..." She looked at the man she considered a friend and found that she couldn't smile. "I don't know what to say or feel, Daniel."

"You're supposed to feel upset, Sam. Sad." Daniel shrugged, "Or maybe relief."

"Oh." Turning back to the component, she sighed, "Daniel? Go away."

"What, you're not gonna ask for details, or cry?"

"Carters don't cry."

"Uh-huh. Yeah."

She blinked back something that felt like tears. Psychosomatic, she decided. She didn't hurt. Yes, there was... something there. Anger, maybe. But this didn't feel like Janet had--there was no ripping pain, no desperate need to prove that everyone else she cared for was still alive.

No need to find the Colonel and tell him she was glad it wasn't him.

He was a General now.

"Sam?"

She'd forgotten he was there. Her head came up, and she stared at him. "Why don't I feel sad?"

"Not a question for me. Try MacKenzie."

She shuddered. "Never mind." The components on her lab bench were calling, the solution to the mystery was dancing just beyond her reach. And she didn't know how long she had before the replicators would return. "I should get back to work."

"Yeah."

It wasn't until later, curled in her on base quarters, arms wrapped around herself, that she finally gave vent to the feelings Daniel's announcement had inspired. After all, it wasn't every day that a man was run over by an emu.

Eerie laughter drifted through the halls of the SGC.

-f-

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© 2005 ALC Punk!