Statistical Outliers
Statistical Outliers
by C.L. Kamnikar
Title: Statistical Outliers
Date: April 2, 2000
Status: Complete
Author: C.L. Kamnikar
Category: drama/vignette/romance; Sam/Daniel
Rating: PG
Email:kikimariposa@prodigy.net
Archive: Heliopolis; all others, please ask first
Disclaimer: Characters are property of MGM, etc.
Spoilers: Through third season, at least through "Past and Present"
Summary: Alternate realities aren't the only alternative, as Sam thinks about someone close to home.
Kelly, I still blame this on you. Thanks to Cagey and Perri for beta'ing, and Rach L. for "The Ocean", which started this trend. Comments welcomed.
"Statistical Outliers"
by C. L. Kamnikar
copyright 2000
You know the odds. You know the score. You know what the other versions of you are doing in those other realities, and who they're doing it with.
And you have decided you don't give a damn.
So what if the other Samantha Carters are two for two in dating--- okay, being married and engaged to --- Jack O'Neill? That's them. You're you. Believing in statistics is like believing in fate. Destiny. Things like that don't just *happen*. There's no such thing as the inevitable, especially when it comes to love. Maybe the other Sams can convince themselves of that; maybe all they had to do was meet him and their hearts turned over, and their brains turned to mush, and in spite of every warning sign the Colonel gives off, they decided to go for it.
That has never been your style.
The hell of it is, you could see it happening, maybe, if you were different, if he were different... Jack O'Neill is handsome, sexy, smarter than he admits to, tough, brave, funny in a twisted way that makes you giggle, loyal, strong, and underneath the sarcasm and cynicism, truly kind. A great guy, in fact. He also appreciates you, both as an officer, and occasionally, as a woman, which is always wonderful to stumble across when you don't expect it..
He also has enough armor around his emotions to stop an army of Greeks, and you've got no idea what kind of Trojan horse it would take for you to get inside of his heart. But you do know that you don't want to spend ten years trying. You aren't that patient, or that methodical. It's just too hard. Someone else can take that citadel, bring in the siege engines, get him to open up... but the chance of fatal return fire is too high for you. You aren't the right Carter for this job.
Oh, he gives off a vibe, sometimes... especially right after the last Dr. Samantha Carter visited. A kind of tentative, hopeful, longing; and when he does that you have to grit your teeth and clench your hands, dig in your heels and resist. Jack trying to be charming and open is damn near irresistible--- but it only lasts a day or two, every time, and then you're back to "Carter" and "sir" without either of you having to think about it. So you only have to resist for as long as it takes for him to forget the idea after about a day, and get irritated, or impatient, or morose, and then you don't even have to try. God save you from Colonel O'Neill in a melancholy mood, because of all his emotions, that is one you have *never* figured out how to cope with. It's just too sad. You can't jolt him out of it, you sympathize too much. You know you have to back off to preserve your own equilibrium, even though you feel like you're abandoning a friend.
You almost feel guilty for resisting when he's in a sweet mood. For not falling toward him, stumbling into him, making it easy on you both and getting it over with. Seeing what's there.
Except that it's always external forces that make him think of it. The pressure of the statistics. Loneliness. The 'what if' that hits you when you think about those other Carters--- he wonders about those other O'Neills too, you can see it. It's never just because of you, as far as you've seen. And if those little almost-overtures are not just because of you, of something he feels for you, you don't want it, damnit. That way lies a big mistake.
Those other Jacks might not have lost their sons. One of them was a general; maybe he never got married in the first place. One of those Jacks didn't lose Kawalsky to a Goa'uld. They weren't this Jack, your CO, who has raised sarcasm and self-defense to a high art; who can slash at his best friend with words that rip at your soul. You're too defenseless where the Colonel's concerned, you need his good opinion of you as a soldier too badly. As a CO, he is first-rate, top-flight--- you'd never trade him for another. He's a great friend and defender, but as a lover? Forget it. To constantly fight the urge to give in to him all the time? Automatically assuming he's right, just from habit? Unable to lose your temper with him, always aware that there's this line you can't cross, because you're working together and everything has to be fine and look fine for when you're back at the Mountain, or someone will catch on?
Do you really want to be in that position, Sam?
You can almost plot the variables that made it possible for those alternate Carters to get involved with him. Their Jacks weren't as defended as your commanding officer. Those Jacks hadn't lost as much. Those Carters weren't military, they didn't have the protocol and regs and appearances to adhere to and stay within, to put up barriers and false fronts when you first met. And of course, most importantly, they were probably never engaged to Jonas Hanson.
If they didn't join the Air Force, they probably never met him. If they never met him, they were never engaged to him. If they were never engaged to him, they never found out what a control freak he was. Or how scary it could be, loving someone who was in love with danger and fear and the thrill of death. If they never knew how scary that could be, they never had to dump him, and deal with the guilt of having failed him. If they never failed him, they never had to look in his eyes and try to pull the trigger and realize they just weren't that tough. If they never failed at that, they never had to watch him kill himself, after almost killing you and your friends.
And if they never had to survive loving Jonas Hanson, they probably still had the reckless optimism to be in love with Jack O'Neill.
It's not a fair comparison. Jack isn't Jonas. He's smarter. Kinder. Saner.
But still too much like Jonas for you to want to love him. You've been there. The scar tissue on your heart still pulls when it rains. And if you don't want to love Jack... it makes it easier not to cross the line.
Of course, you do love him. As a friend. As your CO. As a person. And you aren't blind. He's a gorgeous, aging but still-dangerous tiger, stalking around the SGC, protecting his domain and everyone in it. But your scars and his defenses make it impossible to just yank him into a closet and find out if the tiger bites. Neither of you can be that simple now. You aren't that tough anymore, and you can't lie to yourself and pretend you'd get over him if it went bad. Your life and career could be torpedoed just from getting into that territory.
There are other reasons that have less to do with Colonel O'Neill than they do about you, the kind of person you are. Reasons like Jolinar, and what she did to the inside of your head. Kynthia, and Jack's reaction to that drugged cake, which made you roll your eyes and back away when you were just getting to know him. Sara O'Neill, and the way she and the Colonel looked together the one time you met her.
All these good reasons why you aren't in love with your CO, and they still aren't the *real* reason why.
The real reason why is 6'1" with a slouch that almost hides his strength, and blue eyes that give away every single thing he feels 99% of the time. The other one percent of the time you might as well try solving Fermi's Theorem while piloting an F-16 as figure out how Daniel Jackson's mind works.
Those other Carters, they never met him. He was dead in their world, or on a dig in Cairo, or just... gone. So the whole question of how you felt about him never came up in those alternate realities; the one you're living in now is the anomaly. The statistical outlier, the one place on the graph that doesn't fit the curve. Which pretty much sums up Daniel, when you think about it.
If anyone had asked you three years ago if you could fall for him, you would've said that it was more likely you'd sleep with Colonel O'Neill (and at a time when he was really getting on your nerves, this seemed pretty damn unlikely). Daniel was married. End of story. You have never fallen for a guy who was taken. Especially so very, very taken as Daniel Jackson. Totally in love with his gorgeous wife and completely obsessed with getting her back. He had your liking and your sympathy, but you would've said that he could never capture your heart, not with those ties. You don't get caught in those kind of traps.
But he didn't capture it, that's the thing. He didn't even try. No laying out bait, no calling for you in the night, no tricks, no lies, no wiles.... It wasn't a fall, it was a slide, inch by inch, into more than sisterly concern. Time and sweetness and determination doing the job that no amount of sex appeal or dazzle could accomplish.
It's not like Jack O'Neill was the only guy you had a chance to be close to since you joined the SGC. You're surrounded by brawny Marines and the Air Force's finest five days out of seven. But what, exactly, do the men you've gotten closest to in the last few years have in common? Hmmm. Scientists who like to hear you talk about your interests? Kind-hearted men with no military attitude who let you take the lead? Tall guys with blue eyes? Gosh, who does all that remind you of?
And wow, you didn't make it easy on them. Narim had to leave, that was never in doubt. You gave him a kiss and a cat, and maybe you felt more than you admitted to him, but it wasn't that hard to let him go. It was sweet to know he cared for you. But ultimately nothing you wanted to fight for. A memory to treasure, proof someone could love you, that you could still care, but nothing more than that.
Martouf? You'll never be sure how much of what he feels for you is for Sam, and not Jolinar. And it's finally clear how much that matters. He may like you for you, but it's just too weird. Too much. You'll never know Martouf as well as he knew Jolinar; he'll always have that edge, and the expectations that go with it. No. Not Martouf. Everything with him is too complicated.
Whereas with Daniel, it's just too damn easy.
For the longest time you were just pals, friends, study-buddies: the other night-owl haunting the coffee pot at 4 a.m., the person willing to listen to you babble when you hit a mental wall, the one who may not have understood half of what you said but never made you feel like a freak because of it. Like the guys you knew in college and grad school, he accepted your interest in all things scientific without questioning the necessity for the questions to be asked. A nice relief from Military Thinking, a break from concrete applications. Daniel understands the appeal of the maybe's and the what-if's and the if-only's that came to you near dawn, because that's his playground too.
He was the new guy you had to look out for, having been in the same place at one time. The clumsy klutz that every unit has: the one most likely to stumble over his feet, find the tripwire, plunge to the ground as the walls fall down. But trying so hard, not making any excuses, or asking for any slack, just determined to keep up and not hold back the team. Except when he completely forgot you were all there, utterly captivated by some new discovery, talking a mile a minute and waving his hands around for someone to come look, come see, can you believe this, did you ever imagine...?
It's endearing, most of the time. Even Colonel O'Neill usually finds it more funny than irritating. You're a military unit, looking for weapons, intel, allies and resources in a grim guerrilla war. Daniel knows that better than anyone. And in spite of that, he always finds wonder in every new world, and shares it with the three of you. That wonder, that hope, made every excursion an adventure--- never routine, never just a job, even on the boring planets. Faced with Colonel O'Neill's cynicism and Teal'c's stoic reserve, you might have lapsed into a matter-of-fact acceptance of this assignment, begun looking at it as a means to an end. But Daniel's enthusiasm reaches even those two hardened men, drawing them in to be impressed or intrigued, making them think about what you all find, making them do their jobs better the same way he makes you do yours better. He must have been a great teacher.... He has always given 110% of his effort to the project, because he intensely wants to know, to learn, to see what is out there, even if he can't get credit for it. He would have done as much, you know, even if he hadn't had the reasons he did.
Reasons named Skarra. And Shau'ri.
So you have this friend, who's like a brother (you and Mark still weren't speaking when you met Daniel), a colleague you can talk to, a raw recruit you want to protect (everyone has that reaction to Dr. Jackson--- something about the glasses, the awkwardness, the smile), a teacher you respect who respects you...... who's lost his family in a particularly horrible way, who never talks about it if he can help it. Ever. Who only gives away how much it hurts when someone mentions the Goa'uld. Then his eyes go flat, and his voice becomes too even, too quiet and tight, keeping so much inside that you can see it's killing him. Who desperately, hopelessly, passionately believes he can recover what he lost, in spite of the dead ends and false leads, to the point where he has you believing it too. Because anything else would be so damn unfair. Because that kind of love and determination *has* to be rewarded. Right? It's true love. Like in all the stories. It has to count for something. Someone should get the romantic happy ending, even if you doubt it will ever be you. Someone like Daniel, who deserves it for trying so hard and never giving up, and Shau'ri, who he loves.
Somewhere in there, in the hope for a friend, in the need to believe in that kind of love, the lines blurred and you started wanting what you couldn't have and shouldn't have been dreaming about. When did your heart cross that line between close, good friends, and something else entirely?
There are moments that stand out; points in time that define the descent into "something else"....
He comforted you. You're used to men like your father, like Jonas, like Jack. They can hug you, maybe, and say it'll be okay, but they obviously hate it when you cry and wish you would just stop already. You always made it a point to control yourself around them. Keep up appearances, straighten the spine, hide the pain so they don't worry.
Tears don't bother Daniel. They don't make him feel inadequate or embarrassed, and he doesn't get impatient or over-controlled. After you brought Cassandra back from Hanka, when it was so hard to cope with the anger and fear inspired by knowing that she could die, he was so sweet, so completely non-judgemental and caring when you broke down that you were stunned. He was just *there*, holding you, letting you lose it and get past the hurt without making you feel like an immature neurotic. After the mess in Antartica when his own insight and persistence saved you and Jack, and you couldn't stop feeling so *stupid* for having missed the obvious, he never let you get away with beating yourself up. After your possession by Jolinar, he looked out for you when you were still shaky, made sure you had coffee and chocolate at work, called you late at night to make sure you were sleeping--- and talked with you until you felt sleepy enough to conk out when you weren't. Whenever you needed a friend, he was there, without reservation.
You've been through a lot with SG-1. You're close to Jack, as close as he'll let you be; you care for Teal'c, and know that he cares for you in his utterly self-contained and economical way. You have gone through fire for all three men on your team, and you know you can count on them to always do the same for you.
But it's different with Daniel. You can count on him to save not just your life, but your sanity as well.
There were moments when you hurt for him. When you had to helplessly stand with him and watch his parents die on the Gamekeeper's Planet, over and over. God, that was awful.... But the times he had to deal with Sha'uri's kidnapping were worse. He wouldn't talk about how he felt seeing her on Abydos--- even though he walked around like a zombie for days, overwork and sleep deprivation taking the place of the anger and frustration that the Colonel would have verbally inflicted on anyone in range. Daniel will admit to emotional pain, but that's as far as he'll go. He never asks for help when *he's* hurting, and you can't _make_ him take it. Daniel Jackson is as elusive as liquid mercury, and if he wants to avoid a subject, it's like it doesn't exist.
You can only help in small things: making sure he eats. Making sure he takes breaks, even if he won't sleep. Distracting him by asking him questions about digs, about artifacts, about languages, about anything to make him talk. Just... talk. Until he's hoarse, until he smiles, and you've tricked him into forgetting for a second whatever's making him hurt. He always thanks you later, grateful for so little while you're still wishing there was more you could do.
Moments when you were afraid for him--- lots of those. Like every time he died or disappeared. He has a talent for catastrophe that's only topped by his almost absent-minded ability to escape by the skin of his teeth, and together those talents have given you nightmares. There was the time he was so messed up from the sarcophagus, turning into someone else in front of your eyes. That was... not fun. Oh, and when Machello took over his body. Even for Daniel, that one was bad. You were frantic, terrified that you were going to lose him forever and have a pseudo-Daniel left in his place to remind you of your failure to save him. You nearly went nuts trying to figure that one out.
It might have been then--- that might be the point where the lines of "friend" and "something else" intersected. Begging Machello to help you save Daniel, he regretfully said that he knew of no way to do so... then he gave you a hint as he explained the device, the hint that let you solve the problem. Testing you, his eyes steady on yours. Judging you, wondering if you were smart enough to figure it out, with wary, conflicted hope that you could so clear on his face. But the worst thing, the thing which sent the floor almost sliding under your feet, making you catch your breath was for one instant when you forgot he wasn't Daniel-- and that look of desire, from those eyes, stopped your heart.
But only for a second. Really. An aberration, you told yourself later. A glitch in the processing. Too little sleep, too much worry, an almost-longing expression from the last place you ever expected to see it... Surprise. Shock. That's all. Yeah.
You could've gotten clear of it then, probably. Reversed the dive, pulled up and sheered off before it was too late. If you'd seen Narim again. If you'd visited the Tok'ra, and really gotten to know Martouf. If you'd had someone, anyone else to think about... But that wasn't how it happened. Martouf came to Earth instead, and matter-of-factly informed you that Apophis's host, which the SGC had just sent back to Sokar, would most likely be tortured to death again. It made you sick to think of it--- but Martouf couldn't understand why. And then the next time you talked to Daniel, he was trying to figure out how to get that funerary urn to Egypt, so the scribe's soul could rest in peace. It took major amounts of self-restraint not to hug him, then.
You were definitely in trouble by the time Hathor captured you, the Colonel, and Daniel. Just seeing her was enough to enrage you. Remembering the shattered look in Daniel's eyes after she'd finished playing with his head the last time, your blood felt as if it had become naquadah: cold as space and potentially violent. One of the things you both love and hate about Jack O'Neill is that he killed her before you could.
Yes. Definitely lost by then. Far, far across the line. Because it hadn't just been righteous rage, or protective instinct, or revulsion at her callous evil that made you want to kill Hathor; it was the way she slid her fingers across Daniel's skin, the suggestive smile as she called him her Chosen. The primitive instincts you'd felt under the Broca virus didn't have anything on the raging jealousy and fury that boiled up when she reached to caress his face, and he flinched away.
You couldn't ever touch Daniel like that. It wasn't allowed. He was off-limits. Hug him, yes; kiss him hello when he comes back from the dead (again), sure. Trail your fingers down his jaw to his mouth, the way your eyes follow that clean, sculpted line when he doesn't know you're looking... never. Ever.
Not even after Sha'uri died. No, definitely not then. You hurt for him too much to think about the implications of her death. It was never just about him being married, anyway; it was about how much he loved her. Any consideration of yourself right after she died was smothered the moment it appeared, because the last thing you wanted to do was look for any joy coming out of his pain. The emotional intensity that lets him experience so much delight over small things twisted around, and all that passion turned to numb, aching grief. Daniel's desolation was too complete to think it could *ever* be possible for him to get over it.
Boy, were you wrong about that. He may not have bounced back so much as rebounded, but that barrier to future possibilities is definitely gone now. The Colonel has joked about Daniel's luck with women in the past; he says Daniel's into "extreme dating" the way some of the jarheads on base are into thrill sports. All of it accidental, of course. Hathor. Shyla. Ke'ra. What is it about him that attracts these female disasters?
The same things that attract you, probably. Along with half the nurses on base, and most of the female military personnel, and a majority of the civilian technicians. That he's blissfully unaware of this seems to make it easier for the disasters to happen. He still thinks of himself as a geek, a nerd, the freak genius who was too young to date anyone his freshman year of college. He probably had courses full of young female undergrads hanging on his every word when he was teaching, and never once considered that that they might have had an interest in his classes other than Egyptology. He hangs out with he-men like Jack O'Neill and Teal'c, and compares himself to them--- and while you can appreciate Teal'c aesthetically, and the Colonel viscerally, neither of them can slip past female defenses as fast as Daniel does, just by being interested in what a girl has to say. Forgetting the blue eyes and the sweet smile and the *very* nice body (as if you could), this is what knocks you to your knees, makes you want to reach for him when he's not even looking at you.
So you know that he's never dreamed that you study his face while he's asleep, when you're on watch off-planet. The idea that you have any kind of opinion on the oh-so-perfect fit of his T-shirts would shock the hell out of him. If he knew that you'd unconsciously memorized the exact shade of his eyes so you could match them to the shirt you got him for his birthday, he'd never read anything into it beyond a friend's thoughtfulness. You are his friend; therefore he believes that you can't, don't, won't see him as a man. He thinks that you know him too well to consider him anything other than a brother. Whether he wants you to think of him as something more--- you can't begin to guess.
And that is something you are no longer willing to accept.
Today, you were standing in the hallway waiting for the elevator, when you heard Colonel O'Neill finally get up the nerve to ask Janet Fraiser on a date. A real date, not a group thing with everyone going out for pizza and ending up back at the Colonel's place for poker and beer. He actually mentioned the Brown Palace Hotel, dinner and dancing, trying to make it sound like a joke but holding his breath underneath it all. Janet stared at him for a full fifteen seconds while you mentally screamed at her to say yes, c'mon, say it, say yes you idiot! Then she grinned at him, bright and warm enough to power the 'gate generators. The answering smile on Jack's face stayed in place for hours afterward, confusing most of the personnel in the SGC and making the non-coms very nervous. You didn't enlighten anyone as to the cause, but you did congratulate him later.
"Pretty cool, hunh?" He grinned, thrilled and disbelieving but trying to hide both, then met your eyes. "You know, lots of people used to think you and me would end up together. 'Cause of, well... You know. All that alternate universe stuff...."
"I know. But---" You shrugged, shaking your head. "I just can't see it happening with us, sir."
"Yeah. Me neither. Not in this life." His mouth quirked, and you smiled at him, feeling something fragile and bittersweet. "Maybe in our next one?"
"If I don't have other plans--- count on it."
"Other plans?" He bounced up on his toes, then grinned evilly. "Anyone I know?"
You hummed and turned away, not answering, and the Colonel laughed under his breath as he left the lab, muttering something about someone never knowing what hit him. You weren't about to tell him that once again he'd inspired you to try harder; because damn it, if he could ask out Janet, the least you could do was tell Daniel about it. And about how glad you were that it was happening, for both the Colonel's sake and Janet's.
So now you're standing on Daniel's doorstep, a six-pack under your arm, trying to remember how to breathe. Because it's now or never. Do or die. Or cry. Well, hopefully not. That would suck. But you have to start somewhere. Even though you have no idea what the odds are here, because you're working without any points of reference to chart from. You just hope the solution to this problem that doesn't involve imaginary numbers....
"Sam?"
"Hi. I thought you might want some company...."
***
Comments welcomed. Flames graded for grammar and originality. Cookies appreciated.
Chris Kiki Chaos kikimariposa@prodigy.net
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