So what's our favourite former Deputy White House Communications Director been up to? So glad you asked.
Not. Mine.Chapter Two:
Sam didn’t belong here. He knew it, the group of people in front of him knew it, and what’s more, they knew that he knew it. He stuck out in the stark military setting in his dark Armani suit. A bead of sweat was making its way down his back underneath his linen shirt. His dry cleaning bills were going to be outrageous.
What had he gotten himself into?
General Hammond and Major Davis were polite: they knew enough of politics to see why he was here. Dr. Jackson seemed eager to have another civilian on the base, while the alien - Teal’c, that was his name, Sam reminded himself - showed very little facial expression. Major Carter seemed nice enough, and smiled at him. Sam relaxed a bit, smiled back, and then turned to the final person at the table. Colonol Jack O’Neill glared at Sam in such a way that it reminded him very much of Josh when an aide became overly familiar with Josh’s assistant.
Sam Seaborn decided that it wasn’t a very good idea to smile too much at Sam Carter.
“So let me get this straight: you worked as a corporate lawyer; but you quit, you used to be a speechwriter; but now you’re not, you ran for Congress; but you lost, and now the President has you flying all over the world as his own political liaison for, and I quote, ‘the weird stuff.’” It was amazing how Colonel O’Neill made “lawyer” and “politician” sound like swear words.
“That about sums it up, yes.”
“Huh. Okay. So what exactly will you do, Seaborn?”
Ah. A chance to show off his spokesman skills.
“Well, first of all, I would like to state that I have no intention of replacing Major Davis as your Pentagon Liaison. I’m sure you know that I have no previous military background, and am in no way qualified to do such a job. What I am qualified to do, however, is to provide the President with personal insight on the general mood and atmosphere of the SGC as well as give political and legal aid to yourselves when I can.”
“Political and legal aid?” asked Dr. Jackson.
“Yes. I would help draft any binding agreements between the SGC and our alien allies, deal with personal legal matters, liaise between the SGC and certain other fringe organizations, as well as smoothing out any political ruffles with our government here.”
He didn’t miss how the looks the group exchanged at his statement. Colonel O’Neill took the lead. “Like, say, if we were having trouble with a Senator, you would help us out?”
“Wait a second,” Major Carter said after the exchange. “You said ‘other fringe organisations.’ What other groups do you deal with?”
At the sudden reappearance of the Colonel’s glare – Sam had been briefed about the group’s dealing with the NID – Sam could feel the sweat start to drip down his costly shirt once again.
When all else fails, tell the truth. Especially if it’s what they least expect.
“Well, there used to be this town called Sunnydale …”