On something of a roll. Managed to polish off Chapter 5 of Behind Enemy Lines (boy, that chapter might piss a few people off). Suppose I should now see if I can manage a hat-trick and complete Chapter 4 of The Hunting of the Jack...
I didn't post about this yesterday 'cause I was tired. However...
Yesterday (April 17th) I finished the final chapter of Lady of the Gate! It currently has been bundled off to the beta reader for fixing, but then that chapter will be seen by the public at large some time soon.
Now I can turn and focus on Behind Enemy Lines...
We're getting there folks (just not as fast as I'd hoped - although on the good side of things BEL 5 has started writing itself once more!). About 1/3 of the chapter left to go. Daniel makes a choice, a message is received by Sam and Jac gets her marching orders...
Meanwhile, a rough and ready chunk from the chapter to stave off withdrawal for a little longer.
With Teal’c now offworld with Bra’tac, and L’masee filling in a legion of paperwork in order to convince the IOA he should be allowed to use the stargate once more as an official member of the SGC, Jac knew she was alone and vulnerable. This was easily proven when her superior officer, Colonel Samantha Carter, tracked her down and cornered the junior officer in her office. Jac had been of the opinion that her office would have been the last place Carter would have thought to look for her, only to remember, as the older woman came barrelling in, that she had different habits in her female persona. One of those was actually making use of her office space on a regular basis.
“Colonel,” Jac grunted in reply, not giving an inch.
“I think it is time we had a little chat.” Sam fixed the Captain with a gimlet eye.
“How about them Yankees?” offered Jac.
“Would you please take this seriously?” argued Carter as she took a step closer to O’Neill.
Jac moved so that there was a table between them, saying as she did so, “Well, this conversation is gonna get really awkward really quickly, so I’d rather not take it too seriously for my own peace of mind.”
“Why now, Sam, huh? Is it because of Jacob?”
“Don’t use my father as an excuse. You’ve been avoiding this conversation ever since SG-1 learnt about your real background. Stop running away from this!”
“I’m not running—”
“Yes, you are,” argued Sam, cutting across the younger woman’s denials. She took a step back, ran a hand through her hair and then let her hands rest on her hips as she looked away. “Tela’c said this was going to be difficult,” she muttered.
“You’ve been talking to Teal’c about this, colour me unsurprised. That man is becoming an inveterate meddler,” complained Jac.
Sam giggled slightly and cocked her head as she watched the Captain flex her hands nervously and shuffle on the spot where she stood.
“Look, I’m not good with words. I never have been, which is why I’m surprised I’ve not managed to start any major wars.” Jac stopped, sighed and then huffed in annoyance with herself. “Why do we have to talk about this?”
“Because we need resolution. I need resolution,” growled Sam, fighting the urge to bang her head against the concrete wall. Jac was acting not unlike a small child being dragged off to the dentist.
“Fine,” scowled Jac and she took a seat on a stool next to the table, folding her arms as she did so. She glanced up at Sam with a suddenly wicked smile on her face, “So, you want to work out if we might be still able to get the ol’ nasty on?”
Just to prove that I am actually writing that final chapter...
Jacob watched his daughter closely as they ate a late lunch in her office. She was tucking into a caesar salad with some enthusiasm, which her father felt was probably a misdirected attempt to avoid talking about things. But, if there was one thing Jacob knew, it was tactics. All he had to do was simply wait for her to run out of things to fill her mouth with and she would be forced to talk, which was why he’d leisurely enjoyed his chicken sandwich and cup of coffee. Jacob knew there was little time left and was resolved to have whatever issues plagued his daughter sorted before Sel’mac could not longer hide their own problems from Sam.
Finally, Carter ran out of food to hide behind and made eye contact with her patiently waiting father. She winced to see him sitting quietly composed on the opposite side of her desk, half a cup of warm coffee in one hand and a sympathetic smile on his face.
“So, Dad,” she eventually braved, breaking the silence, “what do you want to talk about?”