Title: Of Belonging to Another
Author's LJ/DWJ: pellucid
Categories: female friendship, awesome women, Sam, Vala, Sarah Gardener, angst, character study
Warnings: none
Author's Webpage/Fic list: SG-1 fic tag
Link to story: Of Belonging to Another

Why this should be read: This is the kind of story we never get on the show: the aftermath of events, picking up the pieces of a shattered life. Here is Sam, Vala, and Sarah Gardener, in a meeting of the Ex-Hosts Club. Honest, painful, poignant, and well worth reading.


Sarah Gardner lives on a little ranch in the middle of nowhere, the land bought with compensation money from the government. She has hired a neighbor, a middle-aged widow, to help with the horses and the grounds, but is otherwise alone. She has chased away government psychologists with a shotgun and has threatened the NID with worse than that.

Sam knows this, yet she declined to call Sarah in advance of their arrival. Even on a bad day, Sarah hasn't actually shot anyone, and Sam has a gut feeling that she'll see them—at least assuming she gives Sam a chance to explain.

Vala waits in the car while Sam knocks on the front door. Sarah answers with the shotgun.

"What are you doing here?" she asks coldly. Sam and Sarah have only met a handful of times, but it is clear Sarah recognizes her.

"I just wanted to see how you were," Sam replies. She knows the explanation sounds implausible, even if it is the truth.

"I'm not giving anyone any information," Sarah says, clearly disbelieving Sam's professed motives. "I have been extremely clear on that point. I don't care what is at stake. I want to be left alone."

"I don't want information. I'm not here in any official capacity."

Suddenly, Sarah's eyes dart over Sam's shoulders, and she steps back, startled. The gun flies to attention at her shoulder. "She—I know that woman," she gasps. "She's a Goa'uld."

"No, no, she's not," Sam reassures as calmly as possible. She glances over to see Vala paused midway in her traverse of the yard and silently curses her for leaving the car. "She's not a Goa'uld anymore," Sam says.

Sarah blinks and re-focuses her attention on Sam. The gun lowers slightly, shaking in her hands. "Not anymore," she repeats.

"That's right. She wanted to come see you."

Sarah looks from Sam to Vala and then back to Sam. Her eyes are large and alarmed, and she is terribly pale, a smattering of freckles standing out starkly on her nose. Finally she nods, slowly. "Okay," she whispers.