Chapter One: The Beginning
Page Eight3, July 1999 Saturday Jack…in his bed…looking like a homicidal raisin.
This was just not fair. "Go 'way, Jack." "Nup. Carter's acting may not be great, but Janet
really is having a rough time and you know it. Play along." "No." Coffee was nearby.
Every cell in his body was fully aware now and he was using all of his self-control not to turn and float towards where he
estimated Jack had set the mug. "I want my key back. No more entering my apartment and waking me up."
Jack's chuckle was the last straw.
Still tired, but unfortunately quite awake, Daniel slowly sat up, turning to where Jack had
set down the breakfast tray. "How thoughtful." The other man's grin at his sardonic comment did nothing to alleviate his severe irritation with the situation. "Eat fast. We're meeting the girls as soon as you can get dressed."
Daniel didn't even bother to reply, drinking his coffee in complete silence.* * * * * * 7:30 AM Amber fastened her watch, checking in the mirror to make sure her makeup was perfect.
Hair properly pulled back, she lifted her chin and checked for any flaws.
Satisfied she looked as professional as possible, she placed small disposable containers of vegetables in her purse
since the Commissary never really had anything appropriate for just snacking…not for a vegetarian, anyway.
Checking to make sure the automatic feeder was full and set to ensure Elsa and Fero
would have their food at exactly the same time they always did, each day, Amber then filled the other dish with fresh water and tossed three new catnip toys under the table. 7:45 AM With
exactly fifteen minutes to spare, she waved goodbye to her cats and stepped out of her house.
She was on her way to the SGC, her new job.
Eleven days and her mind had already been
challenged repeatedly by the array of scientific wonders for her to catalogue and analyze.
Especially Teal'c, though working on the alien physiology of the refugee patients had been an
unexpected boon for her.
Dr. Fraiser wasn't quite as organized as she'd personally prefer, but the chief physician was intuitive with good instincts for previously uncharted biological
functions.
The doctor was a highly qualified co-worker and Amber was fine with that.
She'd had no idea her own research with vaccines would come in handy so soon.
Possibilities and theories abounded, each categorized and prioritized.
There were annoyances, of course, but so long as she did her job, she was certain the rest would eventually fall in line.
Well, except Jack O'Neill.
No…not thinking about him.
Staying exactly in the center of the lane, Amber turned her thoughts to driving at exactly the speed limit, reveling in her
complete control of the vehicle as she switched gears.
Unbidden, a small smile slid across her lips and before she could change her mind, she gunned her sweet sportscar to forty miles per hour
above the speed limit, still perfectly in the center of the lane, her reflexes taxed and her heart quickening a bit with adrenaline.
Then, smiling a bit wider, she slowed back down to the
speed limit, switching lanes again, inwardly pleased with her unbeatable self-control.
True power, true perfection . . . to be able to control oneself as well as one's circumstances. ...continue to page nine... |
