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round two.

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Sam frowns at the piece of paper taped up in the commissary. She turns to Cam. “Who’s running this?”

The look of innocence on his face is truly impressive, but in no way believable. He knows when he’s been caught and he shrugs and doesn’t even try to backpedal.

“Vala’s helping you out, isn’t she?” This whole thing just screams Vala. She hopes Cam got involved only because trusting Vala not to spend the five-dollar buy-in (multiplied by – Sam scans the vote total for the first round – at least a hundred and fifty people) on clothes is a terrible idea.

Daniel walks by to clear off his tray and Sam can tell that he’s less pleased with this than she is. Then again, he’s getting his ass kicked by Siler and that’s enough to make anyone displeased with the afternoon. She assumes Siler’s getting the sympathy vote on account of being in the infirmary again, otherwise her universe has stopped making sense, though it wouldn't be unprecedented; not even this week.

Cam nods, confirming Vala’s participation, and then re-examines Sam’s face. “You want me to take it down?” He will, in an instant, and give everyone their money back with an apology and an explanation that involves Sam being a general and in charge now.

“No,” Sam says, studying the paper intently. “I’m just wondering why you couldn’t put the four of us,” she means the original SG-1, “in different divisions.”

Cam stares at her in disbelief. “Because you’d kick everyone’s asses and take it to the Final Four. Wouldn’t be a fair fight, no one would care.”

Sam thinks that it isn’t quite a foregone conclusion, given that Daniel’s going to be out after this round, but doesn’t say so. Cam’s holding his own against Sheppard and part of her wonders if this hasn’t been part of the data feed to Atlantis recently. The part of her that’s in charge really doesn’t want to know (though, by the way Rodney spectacularly lost in the first round, her money’s on Atlantis being involved in this too). She points to the line with her name on it. “You’re really going to make me vote on this?”

The look of innocence is back.

She glares, but scribbles her name on a piece of paper and drops it into the box labeled General Samantha Carter. She smiles almost apologetically at the box next to hers, labeled General Jack O'Neill, and follows Cam out of the commissary.

“You know he’s gonna lose, right?” Cam says while they walk to the briefing room.

Sam grins widely. “I’ll make it up to him.”