The usual disclaimers: No copyright infringement intended. I love and respect the characters...and mean them no harm. :)

The Grandfather Paradox

Part II

by

Alhana

Rated PG - for some cursing.

Samantha Carter

My father had hair. Yes, it was in a crew cut, but he had an honest to god, full head of dark, not even a speck of gray, hair. He looked so young!

What was I saying? He was young. Younger that I was, in fact.

I barely remember my father with hair. Mainly the seemingly spurious rumors of him not being born bald had been confirmed through faded pictures that showed the steady march of time, and the insidious receding of his hairline. All those years, he had been away due to the Air Force, and now, the two of us, in the same van, heading toward New York City.

And I couldn’t say anything to him.

I didn’t dare.

There were times when I felt him staring at me. His dark eyes were full of unasked questions, as though he thought he should recognize me… I mean… June… I’d look up, and he’d be staring elsewhere. It was nerve-wracking, ulcer inducing even, to see my father in front of me, and not be able to say a single word.

I couldn’t.

But I wanted to.

It was almost comical, as the only people that could talk easily to my father were Michael and Jenny. Not Teal’c. Not Daniel. Not any of us.

I believed that my father had pegged O’Neill, Jackson and Teal’c as deserters, heading toward Canada… but that my presence confused him. I wasn’t a wife. I wasn’t a girlfriend, and the bonds between me and the rest of my team were far deeper than mere familial bonds.

After all, I know from personal experience how family bonds can tear apart so easily.

Jacob Carter.

June was an enigma, wrapped up in blonde hair and blue eyes. It took me a few hours of circumspect spying to realize why she looked so familiar to me.

She looked like my wife, Anne, but somehow, Anne’s features had been tempered and changed minutely. Sometimes, I’d watch her, seeing my wife’s dazzling smile. Yet, the intensity when she spoke with Kirk was not Anne’s passion. Hers was an almost clinically detached intensity, reminding me of my superior officers, those battle worn and weary men, their boyish intensity tempered by maturity and loss of brothers-in-arms.

She walked like she was in the military.

It was frightening, as June reminded me of myself.

Daniel Jackson

For whatever whimsical reason, Jack had decided that it was an absolutely wonderful idea to give Jacob a ride to New York City. In spite of, or maybe just because of, the Grandfather Paradox, Jack had loudly and vocally given both middle fingers to the Fates.

Go ahead! Make me disappear! I dare you!

I think Jack quickly regretted it, because being so close to her father was exhausting Samantha. And Jacob was noticing Samantha’s withdrawal, and cataloging it behind an unreadable mask.

The younger Jacob Carter was light years from the Two Star General I would meet… or I had met… years from now. That man had been dying, and his energy had been focused on survival. The younger Jacob had free time, a puzzle in front of him by the name of June Carter, and a mind--frightening to admit--that easily matched Samantha’s. He reminded me of nothing more than a dog given a bone, and he’d gnaw at it… for however long it took.

We should have dropped him off at the bus station. Any bus station, even a train station. Damn it, Jack! We should have left him at the first Red Light! Hell, we should have thrown him out of the van while it was moving!

The Fates hadn’t been amused by Jack giving them the double birds, and now that their anger was provoked, there was going to be hell to pay.

The question was… how much of the universe would be left standing after we were done paying for Jack’s sense of whimsy?

“So Jacob?” I questioned.

“Yes, Ringo?” Jake answered, his amusement at our continuing insistence to answer to “Ringo, Jimmy, Jimmy and June” evident.

“Do you have any children?” I questioned, after a long silence. My mind had gone completely blank, and that had been the first thing to pop into my mind. “You mentioned a daughter?”

“Boy and a girl,” Jake informed me.

“And their names?” I prompted. “Is your son’s name Ringo by any chance?”

Jake gave me a look of complete disgust.

“It’s a nice name,” inserted Jack helpfully. “I had a dog with that name.”

Now it was my turn to give Jack a dirty look, to which the bastard had the nerve to give me a big smile and a shrug.

“Mark and Samantha,” inserted Jake. “I have pictures.”

“Can I see?” Jack asked. “I love looking at pictures.”

Jake pulled out his wallet, and he removed several pictures. He stared at one for a long moment, and then he shook his head.

“My wife, Anne. This one is Mark, and this is Sammy,” he explained.

“Sammy?” Jack questioned.

“When she was younger, her brother couldn’t call her Samantha, so he shortened it to Sammy or Sam,” Jake stated. “Sammy’s a hell raiser.”

“Really?” Jack questioned in a tone of mock sincerity as he looked at the picture of Sam. “She looks so innocent, don’t you agree June?”

June smiled weakly and nodded her head.

“She’ll go far, if she doesn’t kill herself. Annie doesn’t like to tell me everything that the little Terror’s done, but I’m going to be very surprised if my wife still has blonde hair when I get home. I’m sure you understand, Jimmy, that you learn to read the letters from home very closely. Because between the lines, you find out what’s really happening,” Jake laughed to himself, and then he handed the pictures to Samantha, “June, would you like to see the rest of them?”

Samantha nodded quietly, and while a stranger might think that Samantha was cool and composed, I knew that she wasn’t. The slight tremor in her smile, the brightness of her eyes. This was so difficult for Samantha, and I wondered how I would hold up if I met my parents on this trip. Seeing them, talking to them, but not being able to admit that I was their son.

“This is Anne, if anything ever happened to her, it would kill me,” Jake admitted to his daughter. “She’s the best thing that happened to me, well, besides those two little terrors. Mark’s ok, but the last time I came home, Samantha looked at me with those big baby blues, opened her arms wide for a big hug and then the little brat bit me. Naturally, I screamed, as she had one hell of a bite, and then she started shrieking because I had.”

For a moment, I expected Samantha to protest, but instead she was smiling.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” Sam protested.

“She did, trust me. She knew exactly what she was doing,” Jake insisted. “She had this little smirk on her face. Sammy toddled up to me, looking so sweet and innocent, and then the little terror bit me.”

Sam laughed, and Jacob gave her a very long look. His lips moved slightly, and I think he said, “And that very same laugh.”