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Chapter 5

Fate has a way of taking care of things. You know it had to be fate, because the next day’s movements couldn’t have been choreographed better. The SGC cafeteria was bustling with morning activity, people grabbing breakfast on the run, others lingering for a while before getting their day started. Calandra had seen Cam walk down the hallway and on impulse had followed him. She was too far away to call out to him, so she contented herself watching the sexy sway of his ass, imagining what it was going to feel like to wrap her legs around him. Seeing him go into the cafeteria, she debated what to say to him to start a conversation.

The wheels were still turning in her brain as she stepped into the room, scanning the people present, trying to locate him. The wheels ground to a halt, though, when she did find him, talking to that slut he had been dancing with the other night. Calandra couldn’t recall her name, just the fact that she worked with the bitch who had interrupted her plans of dancing with Cam. Eyes narrowing, she recalled that incident. Casey. Casey Jackson. Said she was married to Dr. Daniel Jackson. Calandra knew who he was; another good-looking guy she would love to fuck. The few times she had tried to get his attention, though, he had just ignored her. Bringing her attention back to the present, she watched as Cam reached into his pocket and pulled something out, handing it to the woman. It looked like a jeweled barrette. The woman smiled; hell, it looked like she even blushed a little, before she slipped it into her pocket. Fine. If that was the way it was going to be, she was just going to have to play hardball. No one noticed her stomping out of the cafeteria, going back the way she came.

Going back to her section, she grabbed her purse. Unzipping an interior pocket, she looked through the contents until she found what she was looking for. A feral smile played across her face. She loved killing two birds with one stone. Taking a pen, she wrote a short note... 



Looking at the top and bottom, she snickered. C and C. That would be a good nickname for him—CC, Callie’s Cam. Once he gets a look at this, he won’t be able to resist; when the little slut gets a look at it, she’ll know she’s out of her league. And she knew exactly how to make sure both of those things happened.

Calandra hurried down the corridor, wanting to make it to Cam’s office before he had a chance to get back there. She slowed as she came to the door; a glance both ways assured her she was alone. Slipping inside, her eyes darted around the room. She quickly made her way around to his desk, looking at the drawers. Grasping a handle, she pulled. Damn, it was locked. With a furtive glance at the door, she squatted down until she was eye level with the right hand drawer. She didn’t have time to pick the lock, so she lined the edge up with the top edge of the drawer. Making sure the "interesting" part was face up, she slid it home.



It was an hour later that Cam walked into his office, a stack of files in his hands. It never failed to amaze him the amount of paperwork that went with this job. Of course, that was in addition to other things that needed his attention. He wanted to go through the Tanoan history a little more closely. There was something about Kaitsenko’s actions that just didn’t gel with the few things he had read about Tanoan rituals. He couldn’t put his finger on it at the moment, but he would figure it out. Sitting down at his desk, he pulled his keys out and unlocked the drawers. Sliding open the middle drawer, he pulled out his notebook where he had jotted down notes about the Tok’ra operation.

For the next hour he went through the files, and filled out the necessary forms. Setting those aside, he stood, stretching his back. Walking across the room he went to the bookcase, looking for the other set of notes he had stuck in there the day before.

"Hi Cam."

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Casey standing in the doorway.

"Hey Casey. What'cha doing?"

"I found those notes on the Tanoan rituals you wanted."

"Thanks. Just put them on my desk."

Casey walked over to it, a grin on her face as she looked at the stack of files and papers spread across it.

"Been busy?"

Cam was still digging through the bookcase. "Yeah, a little. Trying to get the regular crap out of the way so I can concentrate on the important stuff."

"You got a highlighter around here somewhere, so I can mark the sections where the rituals are listed?"

Cam knelt down, going through the files on the bottom shelf. "Should be one in one of the drawers."

Setting her folder down in the center of the desk, she pulled open the top drawer. Pens, pencils, paper clips, permanent marker—no highlighter. Closing that drawer, she opened the top right one.

"What…the fuck…is this?"

Cam’s head came up so quickly he should have suffered whiplash. Casey angry was never a good thing, and there was no doubt the anger in her voice. Add to that the fact she had said ‘fuck’, and the feeling it instilled was tantamount to a Goa’uld attack. Focusing on the young woman, he saw she had something in her hand, and the fire he saw in those green eyes chilled him to the bone.

"Case? What is it?" He got up and walked over to see what she was holding.

She held up something slightly larger than an index card. Looking at the back, he read, "C, had a great time. Here’s a little something to whet your appetite until next time. C." Turning it over, he realized it was a picture.

"What the hell?"

Casey looked at him closely, and saw an innocent man. "You know who this is?"

"No! And what the hell is it doing in my desk?"

"Look at it closely, Cam. Ring any bells at all?"

The woman in the picture was wearing a bra and bikini panties, standing and pointing at her breasts. It struck him she wasn’t very attractive; no waist, minimal curves, actually built more like a boy, the bra having slightly wrinkled cups. He shook his head vigorously.

"Callie Jones, Cam. Apparently she’s had the hots for you for some time. And it looks like she’s trolling."

It was at that moment fate stepped in; or, at least, the subject of their conversation.



Calandra had been pacing the halls a good part of the morning. Ever since she left her little "present" in Cam’s desk, she had been waiting for him to return. She figured the slut he was currently slipping it to would show up sooner or later. Once they were in his office together, she would just happen to stop in. A little suggestive talk, make sure the photo is seen, and it would all fall into place just the way she wanted it.

When Cam finally made it back to his office, Callie could feel her excitement building. ‘Only a matter of time,’ she thought to herself. She kept checking, but there was no sign of his plaything showing up. Callie couldn’t understand that. If it were her, she would have hit it already this morning, right across the top of his desk. She smiled at the thought.

In the middle of her daydream of having Cam take her from behind, she almost missed the fact that someone was coming down the hallway. Snapping out of her reverie, she let out a sigh of frustration as she realized it was that bitch Casey going into Cam’s office. Her frustration quickly changed to contemplation. The two women were obviously friends. If she found the photo, then certainly she would pass on the information. True, it wasn’t as good as her original plan, but it was better than nothing. The smile returning to her face, she sauntered down the hallway, coming up to Cam’s door, preparing to meet her destiny head on.



"Hi Cam," Callie purred as she stepped through the doorway. "Oh, I didn’t realize you had company." Her smile widened when she realized he was holding her picture. Making sure Casey was looking right at her, she glanced at Cam, running the tip of her tongue along her lower lip. "Will you be free again this evening?" she asked, emphasizing the word ‘again’.

Casey came around the desk, her eyes boring into Callie. "Nice try, bitch, but it isn’t going to work."

Callie turned a glare on Casey. "Ah, yes, I remember you. Little Mrs. Jackson, from Quinn’s."

Casey took two steps towards Callie. "I think you’re done here."

Callie laughed. "You think? I think you ought to pay more attention to your husband, honey. He’s quite a handful." Bringing her hands up, she cupped them end to end in a lewd gesture. "Actually, two handfuls from what I remember."

Casey crossed the space between them, and Callie made the fatal error of shoving her. It was only a second before all hell broke loose. Cam watched with a mixture of shocked fascination and morbid curiosity as Casey launched herself at Callie, driving the shorter woman into the wall. Suddenly there were two bodies on the floor, a tangle of arms and legs. His first instinct was to break them apart, but just as quickly he thought better of it. Casey was more than adept in hand-to-hand combat, and self preservation told him it was better for her to turn the anger he had seen on the hapless idiot who had initiated the attack than to have it interrupted, or worse yet, directed at him. He saw Casey come in with a hard right cross as he reached for the phone.



Daniel was in his office, fresh cup of coffee in hand, going over latest information on Tu-mata-uenga. The phone rang twice before he picked it up.

"Jackson," he answered, his attention still focused on the file in his hand. His head came up at the odd sounds coming from the other end of the line.

"It’s Mitchell. Better get down here, Jackson.  Your wife is in the middle of a cat fight."



Jack sat behind his desk, his hands in front of him, fingertips touching. He had seen a lot in his line of work, but he had to admit, he couldn’t have foreseen this day. Daniel was explaining the phone call he had gotten from Mitchell, Mitchell was describing how a photo had started it all, and Casey was, well, he wasn’t sure exactly how to describe Casey. Satisfied? At the moment, she looked like the cat that had eaten the canary. Sure, she had a clump of hair sticking out from the side of her head that had been loosened from her braid, a small scratch on her left cheek, and her shirt was missing a couple of buttons, but other than that she was fine. Her opponent, however…he looked down at the file on his desk—Calandra Jones—was currently in the infirmary. Jack had already reviewed the security videos. There was no doubt this Calandra had made the first physical contact. Checking earlier videos, they clearly showed Calandra in Cam’s office, slipping something inside his desk.

Jack picked up the offending photo, read the message on the back, and then looked at the front.

With raised eyebrows, then a slight shake of his head, he asked, "She thought this was attractive?"

"The woman is psycho, Sir," Mitchell replied, the tone of his voice emphasizing the obvious.

Jack tossed the photo down onto the desk. "Amazes me she thought that little trick was going to work." He looked up at Cam. "Even I know you’ve got better taste in women than that."

He opened the file in front of him, scanning the contents. All the information was very lackluster. In fact, it was too bland.

"I want a thorough background check on this Calandra Jones. Something just doesn’t seem right. She definitely isn’t running on all four wheels, but I want to make sure that’s all it is." He closed the folder. "I’ve got two guards posted down in the infirmary, but according to Janet it’ll be a little while before she’s ready to be released." Jack grinned. "You have a hell of a right hook, Radar. Looks like you broke her jaw."

Casey eyed Jack. "Any bitch who messes with my friends, and then has the balls to imply she’s had my husband, gets exactly what she deserves."



The background check didn’t take long, especially since Jack had an old friend do it personally. Calandra Jones was really Carol Anders. Jack breathed a sigh of relief to find out she wasn’t a rogue NID agent, or worse. Just your run of the mill half psycho who had a talent for giving blow jobs. He flipped through the pages—petty theft, DUI, possession of controlled substances. He shook his head. Apparently she had a penchant for group sex. It was through that little perversion his friend discovered how she had become Calandra Jones. One of her references, a Paul Gibson, was the link. Paul had plenty of connections, government and otherwise. He also went through two divorces because of his wandering eye and a "hidden" swinger lifestyle. Carol scratched his itch enough to earn herself a new identity. Jack finished reading the summary. She may have gotten a new identity, but she was still the same person. The unofficial record had her screwing at least half of the personnel from the last base she was at. In fact, it was one of the reasons for her transfer. Her sexual conquests were a power trip for her; if the guy had a girlfriend, or was married, all the better. He picked up the picture she had slipped into Cam’s desk, looking at it objectively, given the new information he had in front of him. He felt a shudder of revulsion. People like Carol could patch together a façade and hold it in place for the world to see, but sooner or later cracks appeared; they always did. It was then someone would get a good look at the maggots that lay underneath. He walked over to the paper shredder, feeding the picture into the blades. No use anyone else being traumatized by that image. Besides, "Calandra’s" career in the military was officially over.

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