"War Games" by Sally Reeve
Jack was feeling itchy. They'd been stuck on base for three whole days and nights, and it was really beginning to get to him. Not that he minded the work. He loved it. It was still the best damn job on the planet, no question. But recently, he'd kind of enjoyed spending a little more time at home. A lot more time actually. In fact, as much as possible. And the reason? Well, the reason had a smile like morning sunshine, and eyes that seemed to see right inside him. And he loved her. He loved her with an intensity that took his breath away.
He smiled now, as he thought of her, helping himself to the unappetizing slop the commissary was passing off as breakfast. It wasn't that he didn't get to see her at work, of course. He saw her all the time. That was half the problem - he'd never been very good at obeying the look-but-don't-touch rule. And it was driving him crazy. He knew they had to be discrete. They both understood it, but that didn't make it any easier. At first it hadn't been so bad. When it still felt like an unbelievable privilege to reach out and touch her, it had been easy to keep his distance at work. But now, after more than three months, he was getting accustomed to their casual intimacy and that led to problems. Like the other day - he winced a little as he remembered.
They'd been in the control room, crowded around Sam as she sat at the console, studying some video playback from a MALP. Hammond had been discussing their next mission, and Jack hadn't even noticed what he was doing until he heard Sam give a little, tense cough. Only then had he realized that his hand was resting on her shoulder, his fingers idly toying with the hair at the base of her neck. He'd snatched his hand way instantly, managing to knock Daniel's coffee out of his hand in the process.
"Ah, got a cramp," he'd said by way of an excuse. He didn't think anyone had noticed. It had been quite dark. He was sure no one had noticed.
But it was getting harder. Harder to remember to call her Carter, or Major, and not Sam. Harder to remember not to touch her when they met, or when they stood together and his hand automatically reached for hers. And now, after three days of nothing but looking and longing, he was really beginning to itch. If they didn't get home tonight, he thought, he might just explode.
Taking his tray he headed for a quiet table in the corner. She'd be here soon, and they'd eat together, not saying much, just being together in the almost-privacy of the commissary. It was better than nothing, but it was nowhere near enough.
"...Carter?" The name snapped his attention to the conversation taking place at the table behind him.
"Sam Carter?" the voice repeated. "She used to be at the Pentagon? You must know her."
"Captain Samantha Carter?" a second voice replied, full of something Jack instantly didn't like. "Are you kidding, Phillips? Of course I know her - pretty damn hard to forget, is Captain Carter."
"Yeah," the other - Phillips - nodded. "She's Major Carter now, of course."
"No way! Damn, that was quick!" The man laughed dryly, "Still, I guess it helps when Daddy's a General."
Jack felt himself tense at the words. Stupid bastard, what the hell did he know about her?
"I guess so," Phillips replied, a smirk in his voice. "It also helps if you're screwing your CO."
Jack nearly choked on his coffee. What?!
"No way! Who?"
"O'Neill."
"Colonel O'Neill?"
"None other."
"Son-of-a-bitch, I bet he can't believe his luck."
"Yeah, perks of command, right?"
Okay, Jack thought, desperately trying to think around his anger, what the hell do I do? He was half tempted to drag them both into his office and yell until they went deaf, but something told him that would do little more than confirm the rumor. Shit. How they hell had this happened? They'd been so damn discrete!
"Wonder who else she's putting out for?"
Phillips sniggered, "Hammond?"
"Man, I gotta get me a promotion!"
"Heads up," Phillips said suddenly, "here she comes."
Jack glanced up to see Sam saunter into the room, and his heart thudded. She was so precious to him, so exceptional - his feelings for her went beyond anything he could put into words - that it sickened him to hear her dragged through the dirt by the morons at the table behind him.
"Damn, she's still hot!"
"Yeah, wouldn't mind some of that myself."
Jack let his fingers curl into a fist on the table. He was about a hair's breadth from bawling the two bastards out right there and then. But just at that moment, Sam glanced towards him, her face splitting into her spectacular smile. He'd have given almost anything to be able to catch her up in his arms right then, but instead he met her smiling eyes with a serious, warning look and a slight shake of his head. Her smile faded, like sunshine behind a cloud, and she made her way to a different table and sat down.
He stayed where he was for as long as he could stand it, and then slowly rose to his feet and headed for the door. He could feel Sam's eyes on him, but he made himself ignore her. She'd understood his warning, and would follow when she could. It didn't take long, and he'd barely sat down at his desk when he heard the gentle tap on his office door.
"Come in," he called, and she poked her head around the door.
"Do you have a moment, Colonel?" she asked, for the benefit of the staff outside.
"Come in Carter," he said, getting up and walking around his desk as she gently closed the door. They were alone. Thank God.
"What happened?" she whispered as he pulled her into his arms. Damn, it felt good to hold her.
"Overheard an interesting conversation," he murmured, letting her go, but keeping hold of her hands. "About a certain Major and her CO."
"Oh no," she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "What did they say?"
He shrugged, unwilling to repeat the whole conversation. "Let's just say they got the crude details right."
Her eyes narrowed, and a small smile played over her lips. "Not trying to protect me, are you?" she asked.
"No," he told her. "It was just...."
"Let me guess," she suggested. "Probably had something to do with me sleeping my way up the ranks?"
He dropped her gaze. "Something like that," he agreed. "But listen Sam, it's just talk and...."
"Hey," she assured him with a smile, "I can handle it. It's not the first time I've heard rumors like that - goes with the job when you're a woman."
"Well it shouldn't."
She shrugged. "Yeah, well, fact of life," she sighed. "I'm used to it."
He pinned her with a steady look. "But this is the first time there's been some truth to the rumors - at least, about the sleeping bit."
She nodded. "It's still just a rumor," she told him. "It'll blow over. There's no way anyone can know."
"No," he agreed, dredging his mind for anything they might have given away.
"Daniel's the only one who knows," Sam pointed out, "and he wouldn't have...."
"No," Jack agreed. "No he wouldn't."
"So," she shrugged. "We just ignore it."
"Until the next rumor starts up."
She sighed then, dropping down into a chair. "It's so stupid," she muttered, "all this creeping about like kids! I mean we can't even go out anywhere in case we're seen. It's just - argh!"
He nodded, understanding her frustration. It was stupid, ridiculous in fact. He just wished he knew what else to do. "Maybe I should talk to Hammond?" he suggested. "Bite the bullet. Nice desk job at the Pentagon wouldn't be so bad."
"Hell of a commute," she pointed out.
Just then another knock at the door interrupted them. With a grimace of frustration, Jack slumped back into the chair behind his desk, while Sam remained standing uneasily before him.
"Come in."
A young Lieutenant stepped into the room. "Colonel, General Hammond has asked that your team report to the infirmary at once, sir."
"Thank you," he nodded, climbing to his feet.
Sam cast him a inquiring glance, "Any idea what it's about?"
He shook his head. "No. But I have a nasty feeling we won't be getting home tonight, Carter."
**
Sam followed Jack into the infirmary, wrinkling her nose at the evocative smell of sterilizing fluid. She'd always hated hospitals. "Colonel," General Hammond greeted them as they entered, his face grim. "Major Carter."
"What's going on sir?" Jack asked, glancing around the place. She knew what he was thinking - where's the emergency?
"We're not sure," Hammond replied. "Not yet."
"Hi," Daniel opened the door. "I was told you needed to see me?"
"Come in Dr Jackson," Hammond nodded. Daniel flashed a questioning glance at Jack, who just gave a little shrug.
"SG-6 have run into trouble on a standard recon to P3X482," Hammond said then, hands folded neatly behind his back. "Only one of them returned - Lieutenant Beltran."
"What happened?" Sam asked.
"Beltran was unconscious when he came through the gate - he's in pretty bad shape. We're waiting to talk to him now," Hammond replied. "Depending on what he says, I'm going to send SG-1 to investigate."
Jack nodded slowly. "Sounds like a plan."
"General?" Dr Fraiser appeared at their side. "Lieutenant Beltran's awake sir."
"Thank you Doctor," Hammond said, and with a nod to O'Neill to follow, headed out along the narrow corridor.
"Looks like we're in for a fun day," Daniel muttered as he fell into step next to Jack.
"Yeah," he agreed, "it just keeps getting better and better."
Bad shape was a drastic understatement for Beltran's condition. His skin was burned and blistered, his hair mostly gone. But his blue eyes were wide and unblinking as he stared straight ahead.
Sam felt her jaw tighten as she approached the bed, casting a quick glance at Jack. His sympathy was masked beneath the usual show of bravado. "Beltran," he said with a small smile, "you've looked better."
"Yes sir," the man replied through swollen lips.
"Feel like telling us what happened?" O'Neill asked, pulling up a chair.
"It's a war-zone sir," Beltran whispered. "The whole damn planet - armies throwing themselves at each other, slaughtering each other...."
"What happened to your team?"
Beltran closed his eyes for a moment, and Sam saw a frown of concern flash across Jack's face. But it was gone the instant Beltran re-opened his eyes, replaced with an encouraging smile. "We tried to keep a low-profile," he said. "But Major Kovach wanted to take a closer look - he thought he'd seen some Goa'uld technology."
"Had he?" Jack asked.
Beltran nodded. "Yes sir. We managed to get behind the lines of one of the armies - the Major and Captain Gaddis went in to reconnoiter the command post, while McLeod and I kept watch." He shook his head, his eyes, too blue against his red-raw skin, filling with anger. "They were spotted just as they got close - two Jaffa came right out of nowhere. The Major yelled at us to pull back - but then all hell broke loose. McLeod was dialing home, when a shell - or something - exploded right next to the DHD. I was out for a minute - less maybe - but he was totally blown away. There was nothing left, so I just..." his voice cracked a little, and Hammond reached down and patted his shoulder.
"Easy son," he said quietly.
Beltran nodded, his eyes screwing shut as he fought against powerful emotions. Getting to his feet, Jack laid a reassuring hand on the Lieutenant's arm for moment, before he nodded the rest of them towards the exit.
As the door closed behind them, Jack turned to Hammond with a question, "When do we leave?"
The General frowned. "I don't know if you do, Colonel," he said. "You heard what the man said - the whole planet's Goa'uld a war-zone."
Jack's lips tightened into a stubborn line that Sam knew meant trouble. "I heard him say that two of our men are still out there, sir."
"I know," Hammond replied.
"We can't leave them behind," Jack insisted - a point close to his heart.
"There's an army on the other side of that gate, Colonel," Hammond pointed out.
"With respect sir," O'Neill said, "if Major Kovach got his team behind enemy lines then so can I. And we'll bring them back, or at least," he frowned, "at least find out what happened to them. We owe them that much, sir."
Hammond sighed, obviously unhappy. But in the end he nodded briefly. "Get kited up and report to the gate-room. I'll be sending the SG-3 marines as back-up."
O'Neill nodded. "Yes sir," he said, his eyes flicking to Sam, sharing his triumph with her. "Um, General?" he suddenly added. "Considering the somewhat dangerous nature of this mission, I think it might be better if I modify my team slightly."
Sam went cold. What? What the hell was he saying? Was he going to drop her because he thought it was too dangerous? She felt her anger start to rise.
"Modify?" Hammond asked.
Jack cast a quick glance at Daniel. "Don't really need an anthropologist on this one?"
Sam let out a sigh of relief.
"Hey!" Daniel protested.
"No offence," Jack told him. "It's just - this sounds like it's going to be down and dirty. Not really your thing."
"Well, how do you know you won't need me to negotiate with the armies - with whoever's holding our people...?"
"We're not going there to talk, Daniel," O'Neill pointed out. "This is a rescue mission."
Daniel's face was set with stubbornness. "I still think I could help." And then his eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Unless you think I'll just get in your way?"
Sam saw the way Jack flinched at the accusation, and knew Daniel had gotten to the truth. "No," he said, in a lame attempt at denial. "I'm just trying to watch out for you, that's all."
"Really?" Daniel retorted. "And what about Sam? I'd have thought you'd be more interested in watching out for her, but she's still...."
She felt her heart stop beating, and her eyes flew to the floor. What the hell was he saying? In front of Hammond! She dared not look at Jack as he said, "Major Carter can watch out for herself," but she could hear the controlled anger in his voice, and shared it. For Christ's sake, Daniel!
"Um, yes," Daniel muttered, "of course. I didn't mean anything by that," he finished weakly. She just wanted to tell him to shut the hell up.
"Take Doctor Jackson with you," Hammond said into the suddenly strained silence. "I'll send SG-3 to the gate-room. Be ready to go in twenty minutes."
"Yes sir," Jack replied, still irritated as they turned to leave. But at the last moment Hammond called him back, "Colonel? A word in my office."
Sam's eyes instantly flashed to Jack's face, but his expression was unreadable as he turned and followed the General.
"Oh God, Sam - I'm sorry," Daniel muttered at her side. "I wasn't thinking...."
"It's okay," she said quietly, watching Jack walk away and hoping to God that it would be.
**
"Sit down, Jack," Hammond said, as O'Neill stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
He did as he was told in silence, and waited.
Hammond frowned, glanced down at his desk, folding his hands together before he looked up. "I'm reluctant to raise this with you, Jack," he said, "but it's been brought to my attention a couple of times now...." His lips pursed, and his brow creased into a frown, "Colonel, can you assure me that your relationship with Major Carter is nothing but professional?"
The blow had fallen. Out of the blue. Jack silently cursed Daniel and his big mouth, as his brain struggled to think of how to answer. He had two choices he figured, tell the truth or lie. The truth could mean anything from reassignment to court-martial. The lie? The lie would probably be worse. And anyhow, lies didn't come easily to Jack. Not that easily anyway.
"Colonel?" Hammond pressed.
Leaning forward in his chair, Jack eyed him for a moment before he said, "I can't give you that assurance sir."
The General's face darkened. "I see." He got up from his desk, turning to gaze out of the window for a moment. Then, without turning around he said, "You want to tell me what the HELL you were thinking, Colonel?"
Shit. "I, um, guess I wasn't doing a lot of thinking at all," he replied slowly, watching the General's back stiffen. "It just - happened."
"Damn it Jack," Hammond snapped, turning back to face him. "You shouldn't have let it. You're a Colonel in the US Air Force - you should have damn well known better!"
He scowled down at the floor and muttered, "Yes sir."
The General was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice had lost some of its anger. "You've handed me a real mess, Jack," he said, "and I'm going to have to deal with it. I can't ignore it."
Jack glanced up. "Sir, can I ask - how did you know?"
"Even General's are on the grapevine, Colonel," he said. "And Dr Jackson's little outburst didn't help."
"No," Jack said shortly.
Hammond let out a grim laugh. "Well, don't blame Daniel," he said. "I've been trying to avoid this conversation for at least three weeks. It's not his fault."
Jack scratched his head, leaning back in his seat. "Has someone made a complaint?"
"No," Hammond assured him. "Nothing like that."
He nodded. "And there's been no difference in our work?" he asked.
"None that I can see," Hammond conceded, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"So," Jack suggested, "maybe you could just forget this little conversation...?" He tried a hopeful smile, but it slid like ice from the General's stony face.
"That isn't the point," Hammond said. "The fraternization regulations are there for a damn good reason." He fixed him with a steady look. "Could you still order Major Carter into a potentially life-threatening situation?" he asked. "Could you sacrifice her for the lives of the rest of your team?"
Jack dropped his gaze, unable to answer. He'd asked himself the same questions a hundred times, at night, when she lay sleeping in his arms. He'd never found an answer, but just the thought of having to make that choice made him sick to the core.
"Your team depend on you for their lives, Colonel," Hammond continued, ramming the point home. "And you don't deserve their trust if you put one member of the team above the others. I think you know that."
Jack just nodded, feeling as if the world was starting to crumble about his ears. "Yes sir," he replied.
Hammond sighed. "I can't just ignore this, Jack," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah," Jack agreed, raising his head. "Me too."
"As her CO," Hammond told him, "the weight of the blame will fall on you."
He just nodded again. That, at least, was something to be grateful for. "Can I ask what you're intending to do, sir?"
"I don't know yet," the General told him. "But I'll want to talk to both you and Major Carter when you get back from P3X482."
"You still want me to lead the mission?" he asked, with some surprise. He'd thought the plug was about to be pulled.
Hammond frowned. "By rights, I should yank Major Carter from your team right now. Hell, I'm almost tempted to do it," he said. "But SG-1 are still the best damn team I've got, and I think this mission will need the best. There are two men's lives at stake."
A swan song! Jack allowed himself a thin smile. "Yes sir."
"But, Jack," Hammond added, his face deadly serious. "You make damn sure you do the right thing out there. You understand me, Colonel?"
His face sobered. "Yes sir."
Hammond gave a curt nod. "Dismissed."
Jack turned to leave, but at the last moment, his hand resting on the door handle, he paused. "Sir?" he said, not turning around. "May I make a personal request?"
"What is it, Jack?"
He turned then, fixing the General with a steady look. "Sir, my relationship with Carter isn't negotiable. But," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "if you're thinking of reassignment, can I ask that you leave Sam here and reassign me? The Stargate project is her whole life, sir - it would kill her to have to leave."
"And what about you?" Hammond asked.
Jack smiled, not willing to reveal too much. "I'll survive."
Hammond just nodded. "I'll bear it in mind Colonel," he said.
"Thank you sir."
**
Daniel stood a little apart from the others in the gate-room, shifting uneasily under both the unaccustomed weight of the battle gear he'd been given, and the amused glances of the marines who surrounded them. He glanced down suspiciously at the large, unfamiliar gun slung over his shoulder, and hoped to God he'd remember how to use it. But it was only a distraction really, something to take his mind off the way Sam was staring tight-lipped at the door, waiting for Jack to return.
"Chevron one, locked." The voice drew his eyes to the Stargate as it began its ponderous operation. "Chevron two, encoding."
But even that didn't distract him from his frustration - he could have kicked himself for his slip-up. He'd just been so angry that Jack was trying to leave him behind, that even after all these years, when the going got tough, Jack thought he couldn't handle it. And the words had just come out, propelled by bitterness and his fear of inadequacy. He cringed at the memory - he'd accused Jack of favoritism of the worst sort, right in front of the goddamn General. What an idiot! He wasn't really sure what kind of trouble he'd gotten them into, but he knew it was trouble. The worry etched into Sam's usually cheerful features told him that.
"Chevron two, locked. Chevron three encoding."
At last the door opened, and O'Neill strode in, comfortable in the kit Daniel found so awkward. He walked with his usual confident swagger, but his face was far from at ease as he came to join them.
"Everything okay, sir?" Sam asked, her eyes fixed on his face.
He frowned, with a small shake of his head. "Not exactly, Major," he replied quietly.
Her eyes closed for a moment, and Daniel felt his heart sinking. "I'm so sorry," he muttered, but neither of them were listening.
"Bad?" Sam asked.
Jack shrugged. "Let's just say, this is probably SG-1's last mission with its current personnel."
Sam just nodded, his words not unexpected, but it took a moment for Daniel to fully understand. "What?" he asked, glancing between them. "What do you mean...?"
"We'll be reassigned," Sam told him quietly. "Separated."
"They can't do that!" he protested. Oh, God what had he done? "That's, that's...they can't!"
"Yes they can," Jack told him. "And they will."
He frowned. "But it's not fair...."
"It's not meant to be fair," Jack said shortly, and then turned away signaling the end of the conversation. "Captain Harper!" he called.
Harper, a stocky man with thick, dark hair, strode hurriedly over. "Colonel O'Neill, sir," he saluted.
"Your team ready to move out?" Jack asked.
"Yes sir."
"Good," he nodded. "You take point, we'll be right behind you."
"Yes sir."
"Chevron Seven locked," the voice told them, as the Stargate burst into life. "The worm-hole has been established."
"SG-1 and SG-3," Hammond's voice came over the speaker. "You have a go. Good luck - and bring them home."
Jack gave a brief nod of acknowledgement to the control room, before he called, "Move out!"
Weapons at the ready, SG-3 headed cautiously into the gate, and Jack led his team up the ramp behind them. They paused as they waited for the last of the marines to leave. "Well," Jack said, gazing into the gate's shimmering surface, "if this is the last time, let's make damn sure it's a good one." And with that, he strode through and disappeared.
**
"What the hell is going on here?" Jack muttered, as he crouched behind the rocks, surveying the land before them.
The cries and screams of battle were rising from the fields of war below, as waves of men threw themselves bodily at each other. It was old-fashioned war - bloody, body-crushing destruction. Cold metal tearing through bone and sinew, guts spilling into the mud. War. At its visceral worst.
"It's almost medieval," Daniel whispered at his side. "Look - they're using swords!"
"Yeah," Jack replied, his words shattered by the concussion of something detonating too close for comfort. "Damn it - that wasn't medieval!"
Soaring overhead were two Goa'uld death gliders, bombarding the struggling armies - and each other - locked into a destructive dance over their heads. "It's a dog-fight," Jack said, squinting up at them, until the rattle of gunfire drew his attention back to the conflict on the ground. "That sounds familiar," he muttered, reaching for the binoculars. SG-6? Maybe. But Carter was there before him.
"It's not our guys," she said from where she crouched at his side. "But they are our weapons, sir."
Damn. That didn't bode well.
"It's carnage," Daniel said quietly, his voice shaking a little.
"Still glad you made all that fuss to come along?" Jack asked, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.
Daniel sighed. "Look, I said sorry about...."
Jack held a hand up to silence him. "Just keep your head down," he told him, dropping down behind the rocks and turning to Teal'c. "Any idea what the hell's going on here?" he asked.
Teal'c nodded, his stern face covered with a subtle disgust. "War games," he said simply.
"War games?" Jack repeated, not quite sure he understood.
"You mean, maneuvers?" Sam clarified. "Training?"
Teal'c frowned. "No," he said. "I mean war games."
"As in, let's have fun and kill a bunch of people for the hell of it?" Jack asked.
He inclined his head in agreement. "The Goa'uld sometimes challenge each other to such tournaments - for their amusement. The games often last many months."
Jack shook his head, still struggling to comprehend the idea. "Let's get this straight - they do this for fun? They set armies against each other instead of watching TV?"
"That's sick," Daniel murmured.
"It explains the incredible diversity of the technology involved, sir," Carter added. "Zat-guns and bows and arrows all mixed in together - anything they can get their hands on."
"How do they get these people to fight?" Daniel asked.
Teal'c shrugged. "They are theirs to command, Daniel Jackson."
"Okay, okay," Jack said, turning the conversation back to the practical. "Let's not forget why we're here. Somewhere, in all of that, are two of our men. Now, from the information Beltran gave us, it looks like SG-6 got behind the lines of that lot," he said, pointing off to his left. "Up the hill."
"That was the side using our weapons sir," Carter confirmed.
"Okay then," he nodded. "Harper!"
"Sir?"
"Secure the area around the gate - we might need to make a quick exit. I'm gonna take SG-1 and scout ahead. We'll be back in thirty minutes - any trouble, get the hell out of here. Understood?"
"Without you sir?"
He nodded towards the battlefield. "There are two Goa'uld armies down there, Captain. No heroics - get your team home, and make sure the iris closes after you. We'll look after ourselves."
"Yes sir."
He flashed a brief smile at his team. "Okay kids, let's move."
**
"Sir?" Sam hissed, from where she lay in the damp dirt, peering over the crest of a shallow rise. "Over here."
Crawling to her side, Jack took the binoculars from her hands. "Huh," he said. "Nice tent."
"Must be their command post," she whispered. "I saw three Jaffa go inside."
"Yep," he replied. "I see them - three, four, damn, six of the bastards." Rolling onto his back, he turned to Teal'c. "Where would they keep prisoners?" he asked.
"In war games there are no need for prisoners," Teal'c replied. "I believe the members of SG-6 will have been pressed into service. Or killed if they refused to fight."
Sam felt her heart sink, and saw the same expression on Jack's face. How the hell could they even try to find them in the middle of that mess?
"Ah," Daniel's worried voice drew her attention. "I wouldn't count on that, Teal'c."
"Why not?" Jack asked.
Daniel's face was pale, lips drawn as he peered through his own binoculars. "Because I've just seen our Goa'uld."
Sam swallowed hard.
"It's Apophis," Daniel finished, turning to face them.
"Damn, that guy gets everywhere," Jack muttered.
"He'll know they were from Earth," Sam said quietly. "He'll want information from them."
Jack met her eyes with a bleak nod. "He's probably got it by now."
Daniel frowned. "They wouldn't have told him anything," he protested. "They're soldiers!"
Jack's face hardened. "Everyone breaks under torture, Daniel. That's why they use it." He paused, his hand rubbing at the point right between his eyes, as he considered their next move. "We need to warn Hammond that our security has probably been compromised," he said, "and that Apophis has a goddamn army a couple hundred feet from the Stargate. We'll head back to the gate and....."
"Sir?" Sam interrupted. "They could still be alive."
"Unlikely," he told her.
"We don't know that," she pressed. "You want to risk leaving them behind?"
His eyes narrowed angrily. "That's a low blow Major," he said, and she dropped her eyes, a little ashamed of herself. But after a moment's pause, he continued. "Teal'c, you and Daniel get back to SG-3. If we're not back in an hour, get the hell out of here - and tell Hammond to change every damn code and protocol he can think of."
Teal'c nodded his silent understanding. Daniel, of course, had a question, "What are you going to do?"
Jack's face was still hard. "The right thing," he replied.
Sam frowned at his words. There was an odd brittleness to his voice that she didn't understand, but she shrugged the thought away - now wasn't the time - and followed him as he headed towards the gently forested slope that led down towards the Goa'uld command tent.
**
Jack crept through the trees in silence - he hadn't spent half his life in Special Forces for nothing. He was focused, but there was still a part of his mind that rang with Sam's words - You want to risk leaving them behind? They'd cut deep and true, opening his mind to what was really going on. Sure, the men were probably already dead, but hell, you never left a man behind until you knew for sure. That was the unwritten rule.
His sudden reluctance to follow that rule, his eagerness to get back to the SGC were, he saw now, born of a new fear, a gut-wrenching fear to which he was unaccustomed. 'You make damn sure you do the right thing out there.' Hammond's words haunted him with the knowledge that he very nearly hadn't done the right thing, that he'd very nearly forsaken the men he'd been sent to bring home, because the thought of sending Sam down into that viper's nest had frozen him as cold as death. The thought of her injured, captured - Christ, he suddenly wished Hammond HAD pulled her from his team. "What the hell were you thinking, Jack?" he muttered to himself, echoing Hammond's words.
"Sir?" It was only when he heard Sam's voice at his shoulder that he realized he'd spoken out loud. He turned, and shook his head, warning her to silence. She frowned, but said no more and they continued their stealthy approach.
A tactical error, he thought to himself, locating your HQ on the edge of a woodland. But maybe these war games didn't work that way - he doubted the Goa'uld actually put themselves at risk during these little tournaments. They, he figured, were off limits. Which made them complacent, and gave him a chance. As they approached the edge of the trees, he dropped into a crouch, motioning Carter to do the same.
The tent itself was a palatial construction of billowing gauze and sheets of canvas, crowned with a golden crest. At its canopied entrance, two Jaffa stood guard, their weapons in hand and ready for use. They weren't going in the front door, that was for sure. But to the back of the tent, some rough wooden palings cordoned off an apparently empty area, and something in his guts told him to check it out. He turned to Carter, and found her eyes fixed in the same direction, until sensing his gaze she turned around; he didn't have to speak, she knew what he was thinking, and so they moved out in silence once more.
There was probably fifty feet between the edge of the woodland and the palings, Jack reckoned. And no one in sight, although the sounds of battle still drifted on the planet's cold air. Carter crouched at his side, waiting for his order, even as she settled her weapon in her hands, ready to run. He gave her a brief nod, and they started to race across the open ground keeping low, but moving fast. Vaulting over the wooden fence, Jack dropped into a crouch and glanced around. There was nothing in there but a hole, dug deep in the middle of the enclosure. He waved Carter to stay back, as he cautiously approached. And as he drew nearer he began to hear a low moaning sound drifting up from the blackness. Dropping onto his belly, he squirmed the last couple of feet, until his head peered over the edge. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but at length he managed to make out a figure, and he sucked in a sharp breath, "Holy shit."
Apparently ignoring his order to stay back, Sam was suddenly at his side. "Oh, God," she breathed as she looked down into the deep pit, "it's Kovach."
"He's still alive," Jack replied, sickened by the idea that he'd almost left the man behind.
"I think I can get down there, sir," Carter whispered, rummaging in her pack for a rope. "We can get him out."
Jack nodded, taking the rope from her hands. "I'll anchor you," he offered, moving back as he looped the rope around his waist, bracing himself for her weight, and hoping to God that they weren't spotted. Slipping into the harness, Sam clipped onto the rope, and prepared to slide over the edge. As she did so, she lifted her gaze to his, and for a moment held his eyes. No longer Major, no longer Colonel, she just looked at him with an expression of infinite trust, and then gave a brief nod and dropped from his sight.
**
The climb down was difficult, mostly because it was dark and she couldn't see what the hell she was doing. She slipped a couple of times, but the rope - and Jack - held her, and at last her feet touched the rocky ground. She tugged the rope twice, to tell him she was down, before she grabbed her flashlight, and looked around.
Kovach was there, curled up in the darkness, muttering and moaning in a low voice. She took a step towards him, her boot crunching in the dirt, and he started from sleep, scrabbling backwards, his hands warding her away. "No!" he whimpered. "No more."
"Kovach," she whispered, keeping her voice low. "It's okay - it's Major Carter. We've come to take you home."
He dropped his shaking hands, squinting against the brilliance of her flashlight, "Who?" he stammered.
"Carter," she repeated, taking another step closer. "SG-1."
"Thank God." His voice cracked, on the verge of tears, and she swallowed. Christ, the guy was in bad shape - how long had he been here? No more than a day!
"Can you walk?" she asked him, crouching down at his side. His face was a mess of bruises and dried blood, and one hand was badly swollen, its fingers twisted at painfully unnatural angles.
But Kovach nodded. "I think so," he muttered, and with her help he managed to get to his feet, although he put little weight on his right leg.
"Carter?" she heard Jack's urgent whisper drift down, and looked up to see him peering over the edge. "I think we're about to have company."
She glanced at Kovach, knowing there was no way the man could climb out. "Sir?" she called up. "You need to anchor the rope on something, then throw the other end down to me. I'm going to winch him out."
He nodded. "Make it fast," he warned her, and disappeared. Then, after a moment, he returned. "Watch out," he called as the rope cascaded down to her.
Hurriedly, she got Kovach into the harness and tied him onto the rope. "Try to climb as much as you can," she told him, and then started to pull. He was heavy, but the pulleys worked, and with one foot braced against the side of the pit, she pulled the rope hand over hand as Kovach bumped his way slowly towards the surface. It felt like forever, and her shoulders and arms started to scream with protest, but at last she felt the weight ease and heard Jack call down to her.
"Got him!"
She was breathing heavily, and bent over for a moment to catch her breath. But the blast of a staff-weapon close to the top of the pit jerked her upright again.
"God damn it!" she heard Jack curse, and knew that time was up.
**
The Jaffa were still a long way off, but closing fast. "Damn it!" Jack cursed again, the blood in his veins alternating between ice and fire. His eyes shot between the badly injured Kovach, staring at the approaching enemy with a sick fear in his swollen eyes, and Carter gazing up at him from the bottom of the pit. And he knew his nightmare had become a reality.
Kovach struggled to his feet, in a stumbling effort to run, but there was something wrong with his right leg, and he fell onto his injured hand, screaming out in pain. Oh God, oh God, oh God. The words circled in Jack's mind for an instant that felt like an eternity - the choice he had dreaded was laid out before him in all its bloody reality. Carter or Kovach. Carter or Kovach. He couldn't save both.
His breath stopped in his chest as he made the decision. He couldn't save Carter. If he tried, he'd just get himself captured. Not that he cared. In fact, he'd welcome it - all he wanted to do was be with her - but he'd be condemning Kovach too. And he knew if he acted now, he stood a good chance of getting the man home - back to his wife. Kids, maybe. He dropped to his knees at the side of the pit. "Carter," he yelled, astonished that his voice didn't sound as sick as he felt, "I can't get you out."
She nodded, her eyes wide and her face grim. "I understand sir," she called back.
"These are your orders," he barked, one eye on the rapidly advancing Jaffa. "Survive. You hear me? Do anything - tell them anything - just damn well survive. Understand, Major? That's a goddamn direct order."
"Yes sir," she promised. "I will."
"I'll be back for you, Sam," he said then, control slipping and his voice choking. "Just hold that thought, whatever happens. I'll be back."
And then another blast knocked him to the ground. Shaking off the dislodged dirt that showered down over him, Jack scrambled to his feet, yanked Kovach upright, and with one arm around the man's waist, he started running for the trees.
**
"Where the hell are they?" Daniel muttered, as he paced the perimeter of their little camp.
"They must have failed in their attempt," Teal'c said grimly. "We must obey Colonel O'Neill's order and return through the Stargate. General Hammond must be warned."
Daniel frowned, his eyes still scanning the tree line praying to see movement. "Just a few more minutes."
He heard the disapproval in Teal'c's voice as he said, "We have already delayed too long. We risk discovery if we leave the gate open any longer."
"I know, but..." he began.
"Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said heavily, "it is time to go."
"We can't just abandon..." he started to protest, when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. "There!" he yelled in sudden triumph, as O'Neill came running out of the trees. Well, running as much as possible with an inert figure slung over his shoulders.
Teal'c was moving even before Daniel's cry had left his throat, racing across the open ground as enemy fire started pouring from the trees. The Jaffa were right on the Colonel's heals. Teal'c grabbed the unconscious body - Carter? - from Jack and they both ran headlong for the gate.
"Go, go, go!" O'Neill was yelling.
"Fall back," Captain Harper ordered his troops, as he opened covering fire, scattering the Jaffa. But Daniel didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the limp body in Teal'c arms, his mind struggling to come to terms with the fact that it wasn't Sam. He scanned the trees, but there was no sign of her.
Jack was breathing heavily as he skidded to a halt at the foot of the Stargate, Teal'c just a step behind him, and blasts from the Jaffa detonating all around them "Go!" he shouted at Daniel.
"Where's Sam?" Daniel yelled back, grabbing his arm.
Jack shook his hand away. "She's not coming," he said shortly, his face dark. "Now go."
Not coming? What the hell did that mean? "What happened?" he asked, feeling sick to his stomach. "Where's Sam?" Was she dead, he thought numbly, oh, God - was she DEAD?
"Get your ass through the goddamn gate!" Jack hissed, giving him a violent shove. "Harper - fall back. Get your men the hell out of here!"
With legs shaking in shock, Daniel staggered to the gate, watching Jack open fire on the advancing enemy as if he planned to blast them all to hell. And then Teal'c's heavy hand was on his shoulder, propelling him into the Stargate.
**
Sam knew she only had moments to decide what the hell to do. The rope she'd used to winch Kovach out of the pit was coiled in a mess at her feet, dislodged by a staff-blast, and she could already hear the angry voices of the Jaffa as they approached. If she was caught, she was under no illusion what would happen to her, and she quailed from the thought. Firmly pushing her fear to the back of her mind, she considered her options. Not many. Be captured, or try to hide. The Jaffa hadn't seen her, maybe they didn't know she was down here? She whipped her flashlight hurriedly around the pit, searching for something, anything she could use. Nothing.
Unless...? What was that? She dropped to her knees, pawing at the earth. Yes! On one side, the rock at the base of the pit gave way to dirt, creating a narrow gap between the ground and the rock face. She scrabbled to clear it until there was just room enough for her to squeeze herself underneath, effectively hiding her from anyone peering in from above. If they came down, they'd see her in an instant, but if they didn't bother...?
She held her breath as she heard voices above her - their language she couldn't understand, but their meaning was clear. Anger, she heard. And fear. Fear of the punishment meted out by their God. Sharp commands were barked, and running feet pounded overhead, louder, almost, than the ragged beat of her heart. But at last they were gone, and silence returned. She sucked in a long, slow breath, still not daring to move from her cramped confines. She'd wait for nightfall, and until then, she wasn't budging an inch.
**
Daniel was shaking by the time he stumbled out of the gate.
"Medic!" someone was yelling at his side, as Teal'c lowered the man he carried to the floor. But Daniel had no attention to spare, his mind was still reeling with Jack's words - she's not coming. He gazed at the Stargate, and for a dismayed moment, thought that maybe Jack wasn't coming either. But he wasn't far behind them, retreating backward through the gate, his weapon still firing as he emerged. "Close the iris!" he yelled as soon as he was through. "Close the goddamn iris!"
The slick metal slid home, just before several dull thuds impacted on the other side.
"What the hell happened?" Hammond's voice cut through the chaos in the room, as he marched between the milling marines. "Colonel?" he snapped, glancing around him. "Report!"
But Jack wasn't listening, he was just staring numbly at the iris.
"Colonel?" Hammond repeated, casting a questioning glance at Daniel.
"There's an army on the other side, sir," Jack said at last. "Apophis."
The General nodded, but he'd obviously noticed the odd deadness in Jack's voice. He frowned, glanced around as if he was looking for someone else, before his head snapped back to O'Neill. "Where's Major Carter?" he asked.
Daniel wasn't sure Jack had heard him. "We can't get back," he said, as if realizing it for the first time. "There's a goddamn army waiting on the other side."
"Doctor Jackson?" Hammond turned to him for an answer. "What happened?"
But Daniel just shook his head, lowering himself onto the end of the ramp, still shaking. "I don't know," he whispered.
"Jack?" Anxiety sharpened the General's voice, and O'Neill turned in response to his urgency. "What happened? Where's Carter?"
Jack's face was pale, dark eyes haunted with a potent combination of rage and terror. And when he spoke, his voice stumbled around the words he was trying to speak. "I, um, didn't have time to get her out, sir," he said grimly. "She went in to get Kovach, but by the time she'd got him out...," he stopped, clamping his jaw together and swallowing hard. After a moment, he whispered, "There wasn't enough time."
Hammond's mouth compressed into a thin line, "Is she still alive?" he asked quietly.
Jack nodded, silent as he struggled for control. At last he found his voice. "Sir, I recommend you lock out the transmission codes for SG-6 and SG-1. And change any other security protocols that Major Carter would have...." He cleared his throat, "Change anything else she would know," he finished.
"Oh God," Daniel breathed as he understood Jack's meaning. His head dropped into his hands, and tears choked his throat. Sam.
"Jack, I'm sorry," Hammond said, reaching out a comforting hand.
But O'Neill knocked it away, as if afraid that sympathy would shatter his fragile self-control. "Really, sir?" he asked bleakly. "But this solves all your personnel problems so nicely."
The words nettled the General, but Daniel saw him swallow his anger. "I consider Major Carter to be a friend, Jack," he told him quietly. "Let Dr Fraiser check you out, then report to me."
O'Neill nodded woodenly, and Hammond turned to leave. But before he did, Jack called out, "General Hammond?"
He turned.
"I promised I'd go back for her," he said. "I intend to keep that promise."
His tone wasn't exactly a threat, more of a warning. Hammond stared for a moment, and then nodded. "And I intend to assist you, Colonel."
Jack's eyes closed, and when they opened again, relief eased the tightness around them ever so slightly. "Thank you sir."
**
Every muscle in her body was aching, protesting at their enforced confinement. But daylight still illuminated her prison, and Sam dared not move. To distract herself from her physical discomfort, she closed her eyes and thought of Jack. Even here, it was enough to bring a smile to her lips.
Her life had certainly changed over the three months since his return from Edora, and mostly for the better. The tension that had crackled between them for so long, that had kept her on edge around him, had been released. And in its place was an easy intimacy that had grown deeper and deeper on a daily basis. It was wonderful, and yet it had been difficult - difficult to adjust, especially at work. Difficult to remember to call him sir, difficult not to argue when he gave her an order she didn't agree with. It was a strange thing, to be his partner one moment, and then to have to obey orders without question the next - and she'd slipped up a few times. She smiled at the memories, but her smile soon faded. No need to keep up the masquerade now. It was over; the cat was out of the bag. The thought was a sad one - the end of SG-1, of her life for the past three years - and she shied away from it, unwilling to think about it now, here. Think positive. He'd ordered her to survive. She damn well intended to follow that order, and brooding was not going to help.
She focused on the present, on her situation - alone, hidden at the bottom of Apophis's prison, with her transmission code for the Stargate almost certainly locked out. Could be better. Could be worse. At least she was armed, had some supplies, was uninjured, and, she hoped, had the advantage of surprise - they didn't know she was here.
She smiled a little, as a fierce jolt of adrenaline shot through her. She'd gotten out of worse. She'd get out of this - she was always up for a challenge, always ready to prove herself to the world. And to Jack. She was well aware how much his good opinion, his faith in her abilities, had come to mean to her over the last three years. Hell, she'd been out to impress him from day one, and she hadn't stopped since. Which was why she was so glad he'd left her here. He'd done the right thing, and somewhere in her heart, she felt a deep sense of relief. Ever since that first, fevered night they'd spent together, she'd harbored a secret fear that things would change - that he'd try to protect her from danger, that the implicit trust he had in her would be tarnished by the strength of his affection, and that he'd shy away from putting her at risk. God knows, she'd have understood if he had - she felt the same cold fear for him, that she was sure he felt for her. But when it had come to the crunch, he'd done the right thing. He'd gotten Kovach home, and he'd trusted her enough to let her to fend for herself. She was proud of him for that, because she knew how hard it had been. She'd seen the anguish in his eyes, felt it in her heart, and, if she was honest, she wondered if she could have done the same had the situation been reversed.
She smiled grimly. Well, he'd done the right thing, now it was up to her to do the same. She had to prove that his faith in her wasn't misplaced, and do everything she could to follow his orders and stay alive until he came back for her.
**
Jack had expected to feel numb. When nightmares become reality, detachment was meant to protect you from the true horror. When Charlie had died, there'd been a ghastly sort of unreality to it all. He'd felt as if he were walking through a fog, the pain and the guilt shrouded in mist so that he'd only been aware of them as silent ghosts. That's what he'd expected. He'd expected to feel numb. Empty. Detached. But he didn't. He didn't feel like that at all.
Instead, he felt as though he was about to crawl out of his skin. He couldn't sit still for more than a minute - the relentless need to act, to do something, was almost overwhelming. How could he sit here in the infirmary, while Sam was out there having God only knew what done to her? The thought brought him to his feet, snatching the blood-pressure cuff from his arm.
"I'm not done, Colonel," Fraiser warned him, turning with a little frown of displeasure.
"Yes you are," he snapped. "You're done."
It was happening right now. She was out there, alone in the middle of the enemy's camp. Right now - this very moment - they could be hurting her, she could be screaming his name, begging for mercy. And he was here, doing nothing. He felt his breath quicken, as his muscles tensed impotently for action. But there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do. And as his fear for her stoked his imagination, it dredged up bitter memories of his own - left behind at the mercy of the enemy. Pain, terror, and despair. Agony, questions and lies - all blending together, and for a moment he couldn't breath, caught in the terrifying flashback.
"Colonel?" Fraiser's gentle hand on his arm brought him back to himself.
His instinct was to shake her hand away, to yell, to hit something. But he controlled it, and sucked in a shaky breath. Clamping down on his dangerous emotions with practiced ease, O'Neill pushed them ruthlessly behind the military discipline he wore like armor. "I'm okay," he assured her. "I'm going to see General Hammond."
"I just need to -" she began, but he cut her off.
"No more tests Doctor," he warned. "I'm going to see Hammond. Now." And with that, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
"Colonel?" Fraiser called.
"Doctor?" he replied, slowing but not turning around.
"If anyone can get though this, it's Sam," she said quietly. "She'll survive."
He nodded silently, not wanting to risk words, but he felt the tension in his chest ease slightly - Fraiser was right, he didn't know anyone better equipped, mentally or physically, than Sam. "She damn well better survive," he muttered at last. "I gave her a direct order."
**
Daniel sat silently in Hammond's office, his hands still shaking. He couldn't believe she wasn't there next to him, her bright smile lighting up the room. Teal'c sat opposite him, his impassive face shaded and grim. Sam was gone. He lifted the mug of coffee to his lips, but just the smell sickened him and he returned it to the table with a grimace.
"Dr Jackson?" Hammond's voice was gentle, kindly. "Are you all right?"
"Um, no," he replied honestly. "No I'm not." He shook his head again, "I can't believe...." He frowned, "I can't believe he left her behind."
Hammond's brow knitted together. "I doubt he had a choice, son," he replied.
"I know," Daniel nodded. He knew Jack, and if there'd been a way, he would have found it. "I just don't know how he could leave her."
"You're not a soldier, Daniel," Hammond pointed out.
"No," he agreed, and he knew he never would be, that he'd never understand the military mind. "But it was Sam," he said. "How could he just...?"
"Just what, Daniel?"
He hadn't heard the door open, and when he glanced up, he saw Jack standing in the doorway, his face as cold and hard as he'd ever seen it. Daniel looked away, uncomfortable under his angry scrutiny. "I just can't believe she's gone," he said quietly.
"She's not gone," Jack told him, his voice sharp and measured. "She's just not here. We'll get her back."
His eyes lifted. "From Apophis? How long did we try to get Sha're back?"
"We'll get her back."
"It will not be easy," Teal'c warned.
"Nothing ever is."
Daniel shook his head, his eyes fixed on Jack. The man was a soldier, he knew that, but he couldn't help a little shudder of unease as he watched the cold detachment in O'Neill's face, trying to understand how he could have left the woman he loved in the hands of a monster. Military discipline was one thing, but this - this was inhuman!
"You got a problem, Daniel?" Jack asked suddenly, and he realized he'd been staring.
He shook his head. "No," he said, not wanting to provoke him. "Just struggling to understand the military mind."
Jack glared at him for a moment, and Daniel saw the potential for violence in the tense set of his shoulders. And then the moment passed, and something seemed to go out of him, he sagged slightly, and dropped into a seat next to Teal'c. "I swear to God," he said quietly, his head in his hands, "if there'd been any way...."
Daniel felt a sudden surge of guilt, as he realized that his own sense of loss had misdirected itself. Jack didn't deserve his anger. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean anything, Jack - I just.... I'm just scared for her."
"Yeah," Jack nodded. "Me too."
"Major Carter is resourceful," Teal'c pointed out. "She will do well."
Words of sympathy and encouragement fell over themselves in Daniel's mind, as he struggled to find something to say. But what could he say? What could anyone say? Nothing. Not a damn thing. He remembered that from when Sha're had been taken, from when she'd died. Words were meaningless, just ashes on the wind. The only thing that meant anything was action. So, instead of speaking words of sympathy, he said, "So what do we do? When do we go back?"
Hammond frowned, shaking his head. "I don't know. Colonel - what's your strategic assessment?"
Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Well, it sucks," he admitted. "Two Goa'uld armies - Apophis - can't imagine much worse."
"Can we expect an attack here?" Hammond asked. "From Apophis?"
Jack's face hardened even further. "That depends on how much Kovach told him - and how much...." He couldn't finish, letting his breath out in a long, controlled sigh.
But they all understood his meaning, without it being spoken. "The codes and protocols have already been changed," Hammond assured him. "He won't get through. The question is, how long will he keep trying?"
"Until he wearies of it," Teal'c replied. "Some days."
"Days?" The word was a whisper from Jack's lips.
"If his forces are at the gate," Daniel said, following their thoughts, "then we can't get back through. We'd be sitting ducks."
"Dead ducks," Jack corrected dismally. "Unless we send in a goddamn army of our own...?" He glanced at Hammond, a faint hope in his eyes, but the General shook his head.
Jack nodded. "Then I guess we have to wait for the bastard to get bored."
Daniel felt sick. Days. They were talking days. He'd thought hours at most. Sam was there, alone, and they had no choice but to wait. The room fell into a gloomy silence, and Daniel watched, almost abstractedly, as Jack's fingers slowly tightened into fists on the desk, his knuckles turning white. At last, Hammond spoke. "I'll let you know as soon as anything happens."
Jack nodded once, and taking the words as a dismissal, leaped to his feet and was out the door before anyone else had time to speak.
**
At last the darkness came, cold and damp, but welcome. She forced herself to wait until it was absolute, before she crawled painfully from her hiding place. Eight hours she'd been in there, and her muscles cramped as she tried to move them now. Resting her back against the rocky wall, Sam stretched out her legs, wincing against the pain, and looked up at the stars illuminating the small hole at the top of the pit. They were different from those at home, she knew, but from this distance they were no more than pinpricks of light. Suddenly, she wondered if one of the tiny lights was Earth's sun, and smiled. Maybe it was. And maybe Jack was on his roof right now, looking back at her. She waved, "Hi, sir!" She was still on duty - she had to call him sir.
She was eager to get out, but forced herself to wait - to wait for her body to recover from its confinement, and to eat something. She needed her mind sharp, and food fed the brain as much as anything else, so, moving as silently as possible, she delved in her pack for the emergency rations and started munching. It was only a matter of minutes, long ones, until she was done. Getting to her feet, she stretched her legs, not wanting them to fail her in her climb - it would be hard enough in the dark, without recurring cramps. But at last she felt as ready as she'd ever be, and, settling her pack comfortably on her shoulders, she started to climb towards the stars.
**
As he wondered the corridors of the SGC, Jack saw the way people were looking at him. Or rather, not looking at him. It was painfully reminiscent of those weeks and months after Charlie had died - friends avoiding him in the street, not knowing what to say, afraid of saying the wrong thing, afraid of saying anything. And they were doing it now. He noticed the eyes sliding away from him, the muttered sympathies quickly hushed, and smiled grimly - he'd had no idea the rumors about him and Sam had traveled so far. Looked like the whole damn complex knew. For all the difference it made now.
He paid no attention to his route, he was just walking. He couldn't go home - God, no. He knew what he'd find there - her half-finished mug of coffee left in the sink, her bathrobe draped over the back of a chair, her sweater discarded in a heap on the living room floor - a thousand little reminders that she wasn't there. No, he knew he couldn't go back there, not until he took her with him. And anyway, he needed to be here, in case something, anything, happened. He'd have camped in front of the damn Stargate if they'd have let him - hell, he might just do it anyway. But that would mean stopping, and he couldn't stop. Adrenaline flowed instead of blood, and fired him into constant motion. He couldn't stop while she was out there, alone; alone where he'd left her, at the mercy of their bitterest enemy. Daniel's quiet question - 'how could he just leave her there?' - was the same one that span constantly around his mind. He had no idea how he'd done it. So, Kovach was alive? He didn't give a damn. His world, his priorities, had telescoped down into one little word: Sam. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.
As he walked, something about the featureless corridor pricked at his mind, dragging it from the dark vortex it circled, back to reality. There was something about the corridor.... He stopped, his eyes moving automatically to the door on his right: Sam's lab. His feet had brought him where his heart had feared to tread. He swallowed, poised on the threshold, his hand almost touching the door handle. Her lab, probably her favorite place in the world. Well, almost.
He smiled at a sudden memory - Sam's voice, sleepy and happy, "This is my favorite place in the world."
"My house?" he'd asked, holding her close, her skin warm against his.
"No," she'd murmured, on the cusp of sleep, "your arms."
His heart lurched painfully, and he felt something choking his throat. Damn it, he wasn't going to lose control. Not now. Not here. Hearing voices in the distance, he pulled the door open, and stepped into the privacy of her lab to regain his composure. Not a smart move. His eyes instantly flew to her lab-coat slung over the back of a chair, and the crumbly remains of a blueberry muffin - her favorite - scattered over a pile of her notes.
He glanced down at them, not understanding one in ten of the words, until at the bottom of the page the scientific burble gave way to - well, doodle. He smiled a little, brushing the crumbs away. She never doodled. He'd never seen her doodle once, in any of the interminable briefings and de-briefings they'd sat through together. He picked up the paper and took a closer look. It was definitely a doodle, but not one without purpose. His smile widened - she'd been doodling his name. Jack. JACK. jack. Jack O'Neill. Colonel O'Neill. Colonel Jack O'Neill - all over the page. He shook his head, tracing the words she'd written with one finger, until something else caught his eye and he sucked in a sudden, surprised breath. Right at the bottom of the page, small and hesitant, she'd written Samantha O'Neill. And then, next to it, Jack and Sam O'Neill.
He put the paper down, suddenly wishing he hadn't seen it. Idle thoughts, he told himself, she was doodling. Didn't mean anything. Didn't mean she'd say yes if he asked. Didn't mean he'd ask...did it? He swallowed hard, backing out of the lab. He couldn't think about that now, there'd be time later, once she was home. There'd be plenty of time then, for everything.
**
Pushing herself up over the edge of the pit, Sam paused for a moment, catching her breath as she glanced around. All was dark and still, apart from the sound of her slow, controlled breathing. Keeping low, she ran to the wooden palisade, and peeked over the top - so far, so good. Apophis's tent glowed with light, casting a circle of illumination in the darkness, and she saw the glint of Jaffa armor. A patrol, she realized, and dropped back down, peering through a crack in the wooden palings. They passed by, and were gone.
In the darkness, the tree line appeared no more than a shadow in the night, but she knew it was there and that she had to get to it if she stood a chance of escaping. Taking a deep breath, and flinging a silent prayer towards the stars, she vaulted the fence and started sprinting, low and fast. Fifty feet, forty, thirty...almost there. She could see the outline of the first trees. Twenty feet, ten.... And then she was there, deep in the shadows of the branches. She dropped to her knees, in relief, trying to breathe quietly as her heart labored with adrenaline and exertion. She'd made it. She was out!
A sudden shout startled her back to her feet. A Jaffa stood near the edge of the wooden palings, holding something in his hands. What the hell was it? She strained to see through the darkness, and then something glinted in his hands. Binoculars. Damn it. Her hand went to her pack, but they were gone. She'd dropped them. God damn it to hell and back! Without bothering to watch any more, she turned and started plowing through the trees as fast as the night and the need for stealth would allow. She'd be damned if they got her now. No way. No way in hell.
**
"Off-world activation! This is not a drill. Off-world activation!"
The warning blared through the complex, startling Daniel from his restless sleep. His head jerked up, his hand fumbled for his glasses, and he was on his feet in an instant. As he left his quarters, he saw Teal'c ahead of him, running towards the control room and raced to catch him up.
"What's going on?" he asked, as they burst into the room.
Jack was already there, his face grim.
"Receiving a transmission code," a Lieutenant was saying. "It belongs to SG-6 - it's locked out." Glancing through the glass, Daniel felt a little pulse of relief when he saw the iris still securely in place. Thud. Thud. He shuddered at the thought of what those thuds represented. Thud.
And then the wormhole disengaged, and the tension eased from everyone in the room. From almost everyone, anyway. Jack stood still, arms folded across his chest, glaring at the locked iris. After a moment he said, "Why's he using the SG-6 code?"
"Because Kovach gave it to him?" Daniel answered, not sure he understood the question. Had he forgotten about Kovach?
"He should be using the SG-1 code."
Daniel frowned. "Well, maybe he doesn't know it?" he suggested.
It didn't seem to be the right answer, because Jack just glared at him and stalked silently from the room. Daniel watched him go in confusion. "What did I say?" he asked.
Teal'c's eyes turned back to the gate, his face grim. "If Apophis doesn't have the SG-1 code, it is because Samantha Carter is resisting."
Daniel blinked. "Resisting?"
"It will be worse for her," Teal'c said simply.
Daniel felt his heart clench. Resisting. He remembered Kovach's battered and bloody body. Resisting. Oh God, Sam.
**
She could hear them in the trees behind her, closer now, gaining ground. She'd already been forced off course, by them and by the darkness, and her breath was burning in her lungs as she ran, her legs wobbling with the effort of keeping going as she skidded and slid down the hill. She wouldn't let them take her, she'd rather die. Die on her own terms, than at the hands of their torturers.
She heard voices now, calling to each other, triumphant in the hunt. Damn them. Damn them to hell. She ran on, oblivious to the bruises as she slammed into trees and branches, until she felt something warm and sticky trickle into her eye, and knew that she was bleeding. But there was no pain. She felt nothing as she ran but the need to survive. And then she was out of the trees, and below her stretched the vast hosts of the Goa'uld armies - small campfires flickering in the night, as they rested before the battle was rejoined at dawn. Behind her Jaffa, before her an army. Two armies. She quickly weighed the odds. Two armies, one belonging to Apophis, the other belonging to...? Who cared? She'd take her chances in the melee - in the ranks of the vast army, who would notice her? No one. And where better to hide from Apophis than in the ranks of his foe? With renewed energy she plunged headlong towards the campfires, her only goal to get there before the Jaffa caught her.
**
Morning dawned cold and gray, which was appropriate, Jack figured, as he stood outside in the misty drizzle, finishing his third cigarette of the day. The taste made him sick after so long without, but after the night he'd just been through, he needed it. And he didn't mind feeling sick - it matched his mood just fine. He'd been out here since the third attack, with Apophis still using SG-6's useless code, cursing Sam with every imprecation he could bring to mind. And then some. He'd ordered her to tell them everything, to do anything to survive. But she hadn't, she was resisting - she was holding out, for some damn stupid reason he couldn't figure out. She must know all the codes would have been changed? He'd told her to tell them, damn it. He'd given her a direct order.
Unless...? Another possibility crept into his mind, looking too much like hope to be comfortable. Maybe she'd gotten away? No, he told himself, she'd been at the bottom of that damn pit. How the hell could she have gotten away? Unless...? Maybe they didn't know she was there? Maybe she was still there now, waiting? Waiting for him to come get her out. He shook his head. Yeah, right. Like she'd ever just sit and wait. No, if she were alive and able, Carter would be out of there, trying to make her way back to the gate. But she'd know that her transmission code would be locked out, so what would she do? His heart began to beat with a faint, tremulous hope. What would she do? What would HE do? He'd try and get to the gate, and wait for rescue. That's what. Hide out in the trees, keep his head down. My God, she could still be alive. She could be unhurt, out there, hiding and waiting.
A faint breeze stirred the mist, making him shiver as he glanced up at the gray sky. It was a fragile hope, and he sighed, pushing it away. It was too dangerous to think like that. Any moment now, Apophis could try the SG-1 code and crush his frail hopes, shattering him with them. No, there was no room for hope, only for action. And the one thing he needed to do, whether she was alive and well, or hurt and in pain, was get back through that goddamn gate. He turned, crushing the rest of his cigarette beneath his boot, and headed back inside. Today, he told himself, today he'd get through.
**
Sam kept to the shadows as she crept through the Goa'uld army, rousing itself now as the sky lightened towards dawn. She was exhausted, her mind and body craving sleep, but she forced herself to keep going. Aware that her clothes might draw attention, she'd snagged a large woolen cloak from a man who was either sleeping or dead - it had been hard to tell in the darkness, though he'd lain too still for sleep, and the cloak had been stained dark with blood. Unpleasant, but necessary. Do anything to survive. Those were her orders, and she was following them. So, swathed in the rough wool, she picked her way through the army, trying to orientate herself. She glanced up at the lightening sky, the hills surrounding them growing visible with the dawn, and it didn't take long for her practiced eye to locate the position of the Stargate. She couldn't see it, but she recognized the clump of trees that shielded it from view. It would take time to reach it, she figured, at least a couple of hours. And she knew that Apophis's men would still be in the woods looking for her.
She had to wait, a day, maybe two. And anyway, Apophis would undoubtedly be trying to make use of whatever information he'd extracted from Kovach. No, the gate was too risky. She'd wait, hidden in the anonymity of the army, and hope that her chance would come.
Horns suddenly blared, and the men around her struggled to their feet. She heard the barked orders of a Jaffa in the distance, and pulled her cloak up over her head. Anonymity was her shield here, and she knew her life depended on it. And so, when the men surrounding her hefted their weapons and headed out to the battlefield, she went with them. Food and rest would have to wait. Today she needed to concentrate on staying alive until the sun set.
But the day was one born of nightmare. Death was all around, from the hammer-blows of sharp steel to the detonation of staff weapons. Men died and were trampled into the dirt, and Sam's head rang with the screams of the dying. But she fought, she fought for her life, and she killed, although every death sickened her. These men weren't her enemies, they were slaves fighting and dying for their masters' pleasure. And as the sun crawled across the sky, her anger grew with every blow she struck, with every life she took. Her rage gave her a focus, narrowed her mind into one thought: someone had to pay. Someone had to pay for this human desolation.
And then suddenly, out of the clamor of battle and death, she heard a voice. "Damn it - someone help me!"
Her head flashed around at the sound of her own language - Jack? Her eyes scoured the bodies that surrounded her, dead and dying in the mud, until she saw a pair of boots. Military issue boots, and a uniform. Her heart thudding she rushed to the man's side, and rolled him onto his back.
"Argh!" he groaned at the movement, his hands grabbing at his stomach.
She recognized the face, through the dirt and blood that covered it. "Gaddis!"
His eyes opened at the sound of his name, peering at her in confusion. "Who...?"
"Major Carter," she told him, her eyes on the front line, only meters from their position. "SG-1"
He stared for a moment, a grim smile touching his lips. "So, is this a rescue?"
"Not exactly, Captain," she replied. "But give it time."
Just then a rough hand on her arm pulled her away from Gaddis, flinging her to the ground. "Return to the battle!" The voice was deep and menacing - Jaffa.
"He's wounded," she protested, climbing to her feet, eyeing her foe carefully. "He needs help."
"Return to the battle," the Jaffa insisted, leveling his staff weapon at Gaddis. "The weak will perish."
"NO!" she yelled, shoving the weapon aside just as it discharged, missing Gaddis by inches.
The Jaffa turned on her, anger evident in every move of its armored body. A hand snaked out and grasped her by the throat, lifting her so that her toes barely touched the ground, choking off her air. "You dare to challenge the servants of the gods?"
"They're not gods," she gasped, struggling to breathe.
His armored head cocked sideways, considering her words. "You will die for your blasphemy," he told her.
She managed a thin smile, as her fingers curled around her side arm. "You first."
At such close range, the bullets ripped right through the Jaffa armor, and the man lurched backwards, releasing his hold on her as he clutched at his belly and fell to the ground. His moans of agony sounded very human.
Ignoring the way her mind kept thinking of Teal'c as she watched the man die, Sam turned back to Gaddis, crouching down at his side. "I have to get you out of here," she told him.
"Major?" he said, his voice sounding oddly loud, as if the noise of battle had somehow receded.
"What?"
His eyes flicked over her shoulder. "Look."
Slowly she turned around, cautiously climbing to her feet. No wonder the noise had retreated - the men all around her had stopped fighting. They were just staring, their eyes alternating between her and the dying Jaffa.
Her hand crept back towards her weapon, not quite sure what was going on. And then one of the men, pointing at the Jaffa, said "Morta?"
She frowned, wishing Daniel were here. Morta? Morta? Of course! "Dead," she nodded. "Yes - he's a man, like you."
The soldiers exchanged puzzled glances, not understanding her language. Thinking quickly, she moved to the Jaffa, and lowered his armored headpiece, exposing the face beneath, ghastly in the rictus of death. "See," she said. "A man. Not a god. Dead. Morta."
The puzzlement on their faces grew deeper, starting a slow transformation into outraged anger as they stared at their false god. Sam smiled, and returned to Gaddis. "Looks like we just made some friends, Captain," she said. "Now, let me take a look at that wound of yours."
**
"Can we go?"
Six hours. It had been six hours since the last attack, and nothing had happened since. Not a flicker. Hammond sat at the end of the briefing room table, fingers steepled as he considered the question that hung in the air.
Daniel watched him, his eyes alternating between the General and O'Neill, who stood at the far end of the room, close to the door, eyes fixed on Hammond's impassive face.
Can we go? Jack's question, but the answer belonged to the General.
At last Hammond lifted his head. "How long since the last attack?"
"Six hours and thirteen minutes," Jack told him, glancing at his watch. "Give or take a second or two."
Hammond nodded. "And the telemetry from the MALP?"
"Clear," Jack replied. "Empty. No one there."
"Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c said then, "we should consider the possibility that the Jaffa concealed themselves when the gate opened. They would not want to reveal their numbers."
Jack's expression didn't alter. "I've considered it."
Hammond frowned. "Teal'c has a point," he said. "You could be walking into a trap, Colonel."
"I'm willing to take the risk," Jack replied. "I'll go alone if I have to."
"Like hell you will," Hammond muttered, but Daniel thought the words were spoken too low for O'Neill to hear.
"I too am willing to take the risk," Teal'c added.
Daniel suddenly felt eyes on him, and glanced up into Jack's expectant face. He frowned for a moment. "What? Oh! Yeah," he turned to the General. "Me too," he assured him. "I'll go."
Hammond was still doubtful. "Under ordinary circumstances..." he began, but Jack didn't let him get any further.
"With respect, sir," he interrupted, "these aren't ordinary circumstances."
"No," he agreed, with a pointed look at O'Neill, "they're not. Are they?"
Jack didn't answer, but he dropped his gaze from the General's, a tacit admission of Hammond's point. "So, can we go?" he asked, repeating the question.
The General got to his feet, the decision apparently made. "I'm not happy about it," he began, "but - given the circumstances - permission is granted."
Jack was out of the room before the General had finished speaking. Hammond looked a little nonplussed at this breach of protocol, until O'Neill poked his head back around the door. "Um, thank you sir," he said belatedly. "I'll just...?"
"Dismissed," Hammond nodded. And with a flash of a smile, Jack was gone again.
**
As he watched the gate spin up, Jack ran through his mental checklist, just as he did before every mission. Objective? Obvious - get Carter. Tactical threats? Apophis, and two Goa'uld armies for starters. He gave a little mental shrug - a cake-walk. Fall-back plans? Hmmm, get Carter. Escape routes? The Stargate. With Carter. Right, that was all pretty clear. He allowed himself a little smile, feeling more himself than at any time since his return. Action. That was what he needed, and, damn, it felt good. The adrenaline that had twisted his guts into knots was flowing smoothly now, bringing every sense to its height, sharpening reflexes, and fuelling his mind. He felt ready, alert, bursting with energy. He was going back, and he was going to find her. Nothing on that goddamn planet was going to stop him.
"Hey." The voice at his side was Daniel's. "You okay?"
"Ready to kick some Goa'uld ass," he replied. "You?"
"Well, I wouldn't exactly phrase it like that," Daniel replied, "but I guess the sentiment's the same. More or less." He glanced down then, his face tightening in a way Jack knew meant there was more to come.
"What?" Jack asked, hoping to speed things up. The damn gate had almost finished dialing, and this wasn't the time for one of Daniel's rambles.
"Nothing," Daniel muttered, studying his boots with unusual interest.
"Oh, for crying out loud," Jack insisted, "what?"
Daniel sighed. "Well, it's just...." He frowned. "Do you think there's a chance?"
Jack was silent for a moment, hearing the doubt in Daniel's voice. "We'll find her," he replied, believing it for the first time in too many hours. "We'll bring her home, Daniel. Swear to God."
Daniel nodded. "Yeah," he said, "that's what I thought."
The Stargate burst open then, flooding the room with its shimmering light, and Jack felt a thrill of exhilaration at the sight. He smiled a real smile, and hefting his weapon in his hands, glanced up at Hammond in the control room, the order to move out on his lips.
"SG-1 and SG-3," the General announced. "You have a go. And good luck."
"Okay, kids," Jack called, striding up the ramp, leading the way into the gate. "Time to go to work!"
**
The night was still, the frosty air hanging motionless amid the trees, accentuating every sound. Silently, Jack motioned for SG-3 to secure a perimeter around the gate, and for Teal'c to follow him as he headed out towards Apophis's command tent. And Carter, he hoped. But he hadn't taken a step, before a hand touched his arm. "Hey," Daniel protested, in a whisper that seemed to echo across the whole damn battlefield below. Jack glared, but his friend was unflinching. "I'm coming too," he insisted.
He rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. There wasn't time, and he had the feeling he'd have to order Harper to keep Daniel under guard to stop him from trailing them through the woods. "Just don't make any noise," he hissed, and with a nod to Teal'c, headed out into the forest.
It was dark, but not difficult to find his way. He remembered the subtle fall of the slope away to his right, and through the scattered tree-trunks the occasional glitter of campfires helped him keep his bearings. But in the silence of the night, his mind started wondering ahead. What would he find? He longed to see her, and yet dreaded it, remembering Kovach. And worse things. He licked at lips gone suddenly dry, and forced his mind back to the present. Now. In the trees. And that was when he heard it, a gentle crack in the branches overhead.
Raising a warning hand, he brought Teal'c and Daniel to a halt. Teal'c understood his silent gesture instantly, his eyes and his weapon immediately trained on the forest's canopy. Daniel, however, didn't. "Something up there?" he whispered.
Jack winced, bringing a finger to his lips to silence his friend, while his eyes searched the darkness above. And then he saw a flash of movement to his left, and swung around, weapon raised. "Teal'c!" he yelled, but before he had time to fire something heavy landed on his shoulders forcing him face-down into the dirt. He struggled to get free, but his enemy was strong, or numerous - he couldn't tell - and his struggles were in vain. He heard Teal'c's weapon fire once, followed by the muted sounds of a scuffle. Behind him, Daniel was yelling "Ow! Christ, what the hell are you...? OW!"
Jack's arms were yanked brutally behind him, and tied there, and he was dragged to his knees, spitting dirt from his mouth. He tensed, expecting to see the armored face of a Jaffa, but instead a young man glared down at him, his clothing ragged, a sharp knife in one hand.
"Quesca tu?" he asked.
"Um," Jack replied, glancing around for Daniel. "Hi."
"Quesca tu?" the young man repeated. "Votre pel?"
"Daniel?" Jack called. "You getting this?"
"Yeah," Daniel muttered, absently. "Damn, I think they broke my nose."
"Jaffa!" Another voice suddenly exclaimed, followed by an excited babble that wavered between fear and jubilation. "Jaffa!"
"Daniel," Jack repeated, feeling distinctly edgy. "You got any idea what the hell's going on?"
"Um, no," Daniel replied. "Not really. The dialect is reminiscent of Norman, but I can't...." His words were cut off mid-flow, as he, and Jack, were both roughly pulled to their feet and shoved into motion.
"Hey!" Jack protested, as he stumbled over a tree root. "Watch it!" He got nothing but a swift blow to the back of the head for his troubles.
They were marched rapidly down though the trees, towards the ranks of massed men and their campfires, swarming like fire-flies in the night. Shit, Jack thought to himself, it's a goddamn press gang! He flexed his wrists behind his back, testing the strength of his bonds, but they were tight. Too tight. Damn it. His mind flashed to Carter, cursing himself for failing her, for getting caught so quickly. How the hell had it happened? It was as if these people had been waiting for them, but who the hell were they? They certainly weren't Apophis's men.
They walked on, skirting the edge of the camp, heading up towards a small group of fires slightly distant from the main body of the army. At the edge of the little encampment, more soldiers came out, weapons raised, to greet them. Words were exchanged, brief and to the point, and then rough hands on his back pushed him towards a ragged looking tent.
Craning his head to look behind him, Jack saw Daniel and Teal'c being pushed along, similarly bound. The loose door flap to the tent was pushed back, and Jack was shoved inside, so hard that he stumbled and landed on his knees on the tent's dirt floor. Cursing liberally, he raised his head to confront his fate, and came face to face with - "Carter?"
Behind him he heard Daniel exclaim, "Sam!"
"Sir!" She was astonished for a moment, before her face split into a wide grin. "Daniel. Teal'c. Hi!"
Jack blinked. "I um," he began, not quite believing she was standing in front of him, unharmed and smiling the smile that always turned him inside out. "I came to rescue you," he said at last.
Her grin widened, her eyes locked on his. "I knew you would," she replied.
Jack glanced around at the soldiers, who were eyeing him suspiciously. "What's going on, Carter?"
She shrugged. "It's a long story, sir." And then, turning to one of the men next to her, she said, "Untie them." She made a cutting gesture with her hand. "These are them - my friends - untie them."
Jack was pulled to his feet again, not taking his eyes from Sam. His heart was racing, the overwhelming relief that she was alive and unharmed stealing his breath and making him lightheaded. He felt the tight rope slide from his wrists, and rubbed the sore skin, flexing his hands as blood and life returned to them. But he still couldn't take his eyes from her. He longed to pull her into his arms, to hold her tight and have that physical confirmation that this miracle was truth and not illusion - to touch her, breath in the scent of her hair, kiss her warm lips, and feel her arms around him. But he was very aware of the distrustful eyes on him, and of Daniel and Teal'c standing at his shoulder, and so all he said was, "These are your men? You're fighting with the Goa'uld army?"
"Not exactly," Sam explained. "It's more of a mutiny, of sorts."
"A mutiny...?"
"It just..." she began, but was interrupted by Daniel.
He pushed passed Jack, muttering, "Well, if you're not going to do it," and pulled Sam into a warm hug. "We were so worried," he told her, holding her tight. "We thought - well, we thought the worst."
Sam's smile was a little surprised, but she patted Daniel on the back and said, "I'm fine - could do with a shower and some sleep - but I'm fine."
Jack watched the scene with a flash of irrational jealousy. His own feelings for Sam were so intense, so powerful, he was afraid that if he lost his grip on them for a moment, he might never regain it. And so, he stood back, watching Daniel embrace her, feeling awkward and unsure. But Sam found his eyes with hers, looked straight into his heart, and smiled her sunshine smile. And he knew she understood. There'd be time for them later, when this was all over. When they were alone.
"Okay, okay," Jack said then, "that's enough, Daniel." He glanced around at the ragged group of men surrounding them. "Is this it?" he asked Sam.
"More or less."
"Not much of a mutiny."
"It's a start," she replied. "They know the Goa'uld aren't Gods, and that they don't have to fight. The message will spread."
"The Jaffa will not permit it," Teal'c said quietly.
But Sam shook her head. "Ideas are difficult to contain, Teal'c," she said. "And this is a very powerful idea. I think these war games might have an unexpected ending. For the Goa'uld."
Jack smiled, rubbing at the bruise he felt rising on the back of his head. "Carter, how - why - the hell did you end up starting a mutiny?"
She shrugged, and grinned back at him. "Just following orders, sir."
"Orders?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall...?"
"You ordered me to survive," she reminded him. "This seemed like the best way."
"And to think," he muttered, "I was worrying about you."
"You were?" she asked, giving him an arch little smile that reminded him distinctly of their first fiery meeting. "Well, you'll know better next time, sir."
"Next time?" He shook his head. "We'll discuss that later, Major." Then, glancing around he said, "You ready to head out?"
Sam's face suddenly sobered, and she nodded towards the back of the tent. "Gaddis is here," she said. "He's in pretty bad shape - he can't walk."
"You found Gaddis too?" Damn, he was starting to be seriously impressed.
Sam smiled. "Just kind of stumbled across him."
"Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c said, "I can carry Captain Gaddis."
Jack replied with a curt nod. "Right, then let's..." he began, and then noticed something missing, and glanced around. "Where the hell's Daniel?"
"Over here!" came an excited voice, that sent Jack's heart plummeting. "This is amazing - these people are carrying weapons from the...."
"Ah!" Jack snapped, flinging up a hand in protest. "No!"
Daniel's head popped up from behind the loitering soldiers. "But this is so different from all the other cultures we've encountered, if I just had a couple of hours to...."
"Oh, for crying out loud, Daniel!" he exclaimed. "We're in the middle of a Goa'uld army - two Goa'uld armies - about to mutiny! We're moving out. Now."
"But..."
"Now!"
He heard some distinctly colorful mutterings from his friend, but chose to ignore them in the interest of speed. He wanted to get Sam the hell out of here, away from danger, and back where she belonged - with him, in his arms, he hoped - as soon as damn well possible.
**
"Incoming traveler," the Lieutenant barked. "SG-1's code."
Hammond watched as the iris opened, praying silently that Jack had found her. Teal'c emerged first, once more carrying a limp body. Hammond's stomach clenched at the sight, though the tension eased a little when he saw that it wasn't Carter. It was Gaddis - the remaining member of SG-6 - and he was alive. Good.
Then Daniel walked out, closely followed by Jack, and at his side Sam Carter. "Yes," Hammond breathed quietly, and the ripple or relief could be felt all around the control room. He opened the speaker, "Welcome back SG-1."
Jack looked up and waved once, then leaned close and said something to Carter. She smiled a little and nodded, glancing up towards the control room. He drew in a deep breath, guessing the subject of their muttered conversation. Now that their lives were no longer at risk, there was the little matter of their careers to be decided. He shook his head, putting the thought from his mind. He'd worry about that later, now he wanted to know how the hell Carter had come through this with little more than cuts and bruises.
**
After a shower and a change of clothes, Sam felt a hell of a lot better, as she sat cross-legged on the infirmary bed, waiting for Janet to discharge her. Daniel was lying in the next bed, tentatively poking at his nose.
"You sure it's not broken?" he asked Janet. "It feels broken."
"It's just bruising, Daniel," she assured him. "You'll be as pretty as ever in a couple of weeks."
He gingerly touched his nose again, and grunted, "If you say so."
"I'll give you something to take the edge off the pain," she told him. "Help you sleep tonight."
Sam sighed, and yawned. Just the mention of sleep was enough to set her off. "I don't think I'll need anything to help me sleep," she murmured.
Janet smiled, as she turned towards her. "How's the head?" she asked, reaching out a gentle hand to touch the gash right above Sam's hairline. "The sutures look fine."
"A little sore - not bad," she assured her, not wanting to give Janet any excuse to keep her in overnight. "I just need some sleep," she added. "In my own bed." Or maybe not, she thought with a small smile, but certainly not here.
Janet caught her smile, and reflected it in a grin of her own. She might have said something, but at that moment Jack strode into the room, out of uniform and obviously keen to go home. "Hey," he said with a smile, "how are we all?"
"In pain," Daniel muttered.
Glancing at him, Jack winced a little as he eyed his friend's swollen face. "Broken?"
"Apparently not," Daniel replied, unconvinced.
Jack nodded. "Looks - painful."
"It is."
He shrugged. "You should take some Tylenol, or something."
"Thank you Colonel," Janet said, with a little dry smile. "I'm on the case."
"Just trying to help, Doctor," he told her, deadpan. "And how about Sam? Is she ready to go?"
Sam? Ready to go? Carter was a little surprised by his directness - apparently Jack had given up on discretion completely! Janet grinned, glancing at Sam with a question in her eyes, but all she said was, "Major Carter needs a tetanus shot before she leaves."
"Tetanus," Jack nodded. "Right. So how long will that....?"
He was interrupted by the arrival of General Hammond, who strode towards them all, looking a little awkward. Sam knew how he felt, and dropped her gaze to her hands, folded in her lap. She dreaded seeing disappointment, or anger, in the General's eyes. Although she didn't regret anything about her relationship with Jack, she couldn't help feeling that she'd let Hammond down - because of their actions his best team was breaking up.
"Major Carter," he said as he drew nearer, surprising her. She had assumed he'd talk to Jack. "How are you feeling?"
She looked up then, feeling herself blush at this first meeting since he'd confronted Jack about their relationship. But she managed to keep her voice steady as she said "I'm fine sir. I wasn't hurt."
He nodded. "Good job Carter. On keeping yourself alive, and getting Captain Gaddis home."
She smiled then, and dropped her eyes. "Thank you sir."
"I'm looking forward to hearing the story, Major, at the debriefing."
Debriefing? Her heart sank. This evening? God, she was exhausted. Instinctively she glanced at Jack, who didn't look like he believed what he was hearing. "General?" he said. "I think Major Carter could use some rest before...."
Hammond cut him off. "Oh-nine-hundred hours tomorrow," he clarified.
Jack nodded, with obvious relief. "Yes sir," he said, sharing a satisfied smile with Sam.
"Get some rest," Hammond said then, encompassing them all in his glance as he turned to leave. But he'd barely taken a step, before he looked back, a tight frown on his face. "Colonel O'Neill? Major Carter? I'd like to see you both in my office at oh-eight-hundred hours tomorrow."
Sam caught her breath. This was it. She hadn't expected it to happen so soon - not even a day since they got back, and the axe was falling. Her voice was quiet as she said, "Yes sir."
In the next bed she heard Daniel mutter, "Oh crap."
She glanced at Jack, who gave her a slight shrug and a small smile. It'll be okay, his eyes said. She nodded, wishing she felt more reassured.
"Sam?" Janet was at her side, needle in hand. "Arm or butt?" She smiled, despite the melancholy she felt descending, and held out her arm, flinching slightly as the needle pricked. "Okay," Janet said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're done."
"Thanks." Uncurling her legs, she slipped down from the bed, and gave Daniel a reassuring smile. "Feel better," she said, patting his arm.
He nodded, but she could see the real anguish in his eyes as he said, "Sam, about what I said the other day - in front of Hammond. I had no idea this would happen. If I'd known...."
"It's okay," she assured him quietly. "It was inevitable. It's probably for the best."
"Yeah, right," he replied, shaking his head, making himself wince as the movement jostled his nose. "Damn stupid military regulations! Make no damn sense."
"Hey," Jack was at her side now, his warm hand on her shoulder. "Ready to go?"
She nodded, glancing between him and Daniel, suddenly overwhelmed by the sense of loss. Perhaps it was the fact that she hadn't slept in nearly two days, or that before the mission she'd had no time to think about the consequences of Hammond's decision, but unexpected tears sprang to her eyes now. "I can't believe it's over," she whispered suddenly. "I can't believe this is the end of SG-1."
"No," Daniel replied, taking his glasses off and pressing the palm of his hand into his eyes. "It's so stupid."
"It's the military," Jack shrugged, as if that explained everything. He slid his arm around Sam's shoulders, and pulled her close. "Come on Carter," he said quietly, "let's go home."
She nodded, wiping at her eyes and trying to force a smile for Daniel. She didn't want him to blame himself. "See you tomorrow."
He nodded, but didn't return her smile. "Yeah," he sighed. "Get some rest, God knows you deserve it."
She smiled again, and turned away, letting Jack guide her towards the door. But as she left, she heard Daniel's quiet words, "You deserve a hell of a lot more than that from this place." And she smiled. He was a true friend - even if he did have a big mouth.
**
Sam slept like the dead, motionless but for the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. She lay on her back, one arm flung up above her head, her hair glinting pale-gold in the moonlit room. She was still half-dressed, too tired to do much more than pull her boots off before she'd crawled into his bed. And even though it had only been early evening, he'd crawled in next to her. Partly because he'd been up for over two days, sustained by little more than coffee and adrenaline, and partly because he longed to be close to her. And so he'd fallen asleep with his arms around her, too relieved that she was alive and well to worry about anything else.
But that had been several hours ago. Sam still slept, but a deeper anxiety had surfaced in Jack's dreams and brought him back to consciousness. And so he lay next to her now, listening to her steady breathing, trying to imagine the future. He'd not been lying when he'd told Hammond that his relationship with her was non-negotiable. He'd give up everything he had, before he'd give up Sam. And that included his career. Hell, it included his life.
He knew what he was going to do. He'd known since that first conversation with Hammond. What he didn't know was how he'd tell Sam. He flinched a little as he imagined her protests, and then smiled. He loved the way her eyes flashed fire when she was mad.
He glanced at the clock - two a.m. Huh, his sleep patterns were really screwed up. Still, he was wide-awake, and there was something he needed to do before he saw Hammond in the morning. So climbing quietly out of bed, careful not to disturb Sam, he crept out of the bedroom and made his way towards the study.
**
Sam surfaced slowly, gradually becoming aware of her limbs, still heavy with sleep. It was dark, nighttime, and for a moment she was disoriented - her eyes opening wide, blinking up at a ceiling she couldn't quite place. Not her apartment, but home nonetheless. And then she remembered, and smiled. Jack's. She was at Jack's place. She rolled towards him, and was surprised to find herself alone. Confused again, she reached over and grabbed the clock - two-thirty-six - huh, where the hell was he?
Flicking on the light she climbed out of bed, blinking in the sudden brightness. The rest of the house was still dark, but she could see a light on in the study, and as she padded along in her bare feet, she heard the quiet hum of a printer. What was he doing, working in the middle of the night?
When she pushed open the study door, she saw Jack sitting with his back to her, feet up on the desk, reading whatever it was he'd just printed out. Satisfied with it, he swung his legs down, grabbed a pen and scribbled his signature on the bottom. A letter then, she realized, and a little beat of disquiet set her heart racing.
"Hey," she said, keeping her voice quiet, though he still started at the sound, and span around as if caught red-handed. She smiled. "What're you doing?"
"You're meant to be asleep," he told her, folding the paper and leaving it on the desk as he stepped towards her. "How do you feel?"
"Better," she said, eyes still on the letter. "What is it?"
Jack shook his head, and took her hand. "Nothing." Then he reached up and touched her face, tracing the line of her jaw, an affectionate smile in his eyes. "I missed you," he said, leaning in and kissing her tenderly. His arms went around her then, pulling her close as his kiss deepened, lacing tenderness with passion. For a moment she considered succumbing to the fire he ignited, but her curiosity was piqued.
"Jack," she murmured, pulling away a little, "what's in the letter?"
His eyes were dark in the dimly lit room, and a little sad. She realized that he didn't want to tell her, and she was about say that it was okay, that he didn't need to, when he took a step backward, picked the letter up and handed it to her in silence.
She opened it with a sense of unease, sharply reminded of other letters she'd read, under very different circumstances. This one, though, was formal, and to the point. She read and understood it in an instant, and looked up at him, eyes wide with a hundred different emotions. "Retiring?" she asked. "Why?"
He smiled briefly, and shrugged. "What did you think I'd do? Take a desk job? Push paper at the Pentagon? Move to Wright-Patterson?"
"Hammond isn't going to reassign you," she protested. "It's more likely to be me." She smiled at the truth she was speaking. "The Pentagon were reluctant to lose me in the first place."
Jack shook his head. "Hammond won't let you go," he told her with a certainty that aroused her suspicion.
"He told you that?"
He looked a little uncomfortable as he said, "Kinda."
"You told HIM," she realized then. "You asked him not to reassign me, didn't you?"
"I made a suggestion," he admitted. "I think he agreed it was a good one."
She shook her head. "You can't leave, Jack," she said. "We need you - the SGC needs you."
"Not as much as I need you," he said quietly, giving her a little lop-sided smile.
Her heart thudded, as she realized he was doing this for her - to be with her. "Jack," she whispered, "I can't let you do it."
"Let me?" he asked. "Since when do I need your permission, Major?"
"I'm serious," she told him.
"So am I."
"It's too much," she insisted. "You're giving up everything...."
"No." He shook his head, taking her hands in his own, and gazing into her eyes with such warmth that she felt herself start to melt. "Everything's right here, Sam. The rest are details."
Her heart was racing as she struggled to understand - he was doing this for her. He wanted to be with her so much, he'd give up his career, the job he loved, everything, just to be with her. Words failed her, as she gazed into his eyes and saw a love there so powerful it stole her breath, even as she recognized it beating in her own heart. There were no words to tell him how she felt, so instead she just pulled him to her, holding him tight, and burying her face against his neck. At last she managed to whisper, "I love you," but the words sounded too small, too insipid to contain all that she felt for him.
"Sam," he whispered back, taking her face in his hands and kissing her with a passion that spoke straight to her heart. And she surrendered herself to it, willingly, eagerly, letting it take them both to a place where words were unimportant.
**
It was almost seven o'clock as General Hammond strode out of the elevator and headed for his office. His face must have reflected the heaviness of his heart, because he saw several of his staff scramble out of the way as he passed. Today was going to be a hell of a day. Personnel issues. He hated them. He hadn't joined the Air Force to interfere in the personal lives of good men and women - friends, even - and he resented the hell out of having to do it. But regulations were regulations. He understood them, even if he hated having to enforce them in this particular circumstance.
"Good morning General," one of his aids greeted him, rising from her desk as he approached his office. "Doctor Jackson is here to see you sir."
He stopped, and frowned. "Doctor Jackson? What for?"
"He said it was a personal matter, sir," the Lieutenant told him. "He's waiting in your office."
Hammond gave her a brief nod, and pushed open his door. Daniel turned at the sound, and rose to his feet. "Ah, General Hammond. Hi. I hope you don't mind me waiting here for you?"
Hammond shook his head, gesturing for the man take a seat, as he walked around behind his desk and sat down. "I thought you were in the infirmary, son?" he began, eyeing the nasty bruising on his face.
Daniel shrugged. "I discharged myself," he said. "The food makes me sick."
Hammond allowed himself a brief smile, before he said, "What can I do for you, Doctor Jackson?"
Leaning forward in his chair, Daniel clasped his hands together as he considered his words. "It's about Jack and Sam," he began, his gaze steady. "I know it's none of my business...."
"Correct," Hammond told him.
Daniel nodded once, but carried on. "General, you can't reassign them. It's not fair. It's not even logical." He held up a hand to forestall interruption, "Okay, I know the military doesn't care about fairness - or logic - but, do you really want to lose them? Either of them? Can the SGC afford to?"
"Probably not," Hammond agreed. "But that's not the point."
"Then what is the point? Explain it to me, because from where I'm sitting, I don't see one."
"The point," Hammond said slowly, "is discipline. Morale. The safety of the team in action. If a CO has a personal relationship with a member of his team, his judgement is impaired and the team is at risk."
"How?"
"Colonel O'Neill is a fine officer," he explained, "but is it fair to ask him to make life and death decisions about a woman he's involved with? To ask him to put her at risk to save others?"
"Isn't that his choice?"
Hammond shook his head. "It's not fair on the rest of the team if he makes the wrong decision."
"He wouldn't," Daniel insisted.
"You don't know that son."
But Daniel nodded. "He risked Sam to save Kovach," he pointed out. "And he wasn't even a member of SG-1. I know Jack, General. He always does the right thing."
Hammond sighed, having to acknowledge the point about Kovach, but still not out of arguments. "There are also issues of favoritism," he said, "and the undermining of the team hierarchy."
Daniel just shook his head. "But that doesn't apply to SG-1. Teal'c and I aren't even in the military! We're all friends, hell, we're like a family!"
"I understand that your team is - unique," he agreed. "But I can't make an exception."
"Why not?"
"There's no precedent," he said, aware that he was on the defensive. If he was honest, his arguments were sounding thin even to his own ears.
"General," Daniel said quietly, "there's no precedent for a lot of what goes on around here - and don't Jack and Sam deserve something unprecedented, after everything they've given to the SGC?"
Hammond nodded at that, his mind beginning to turn along a different track. Could there be a way? And if there was, would he want to take it?
"Sir," Daniel pressed, "don't break up SG-1. Please. What we have here is too important to be destroyed by regulations. You must see that."
"Doctor Jackson," Hammond said, rising to his feet, indicating that the meeting was at an end, "thank you for your input. I'll take it under advisement."
"Meaning?"
Hammond raised an eyebrow. "Meaning that I'll see you in the de-briefing at oh-nine-hundred."
Daniel's mouth tightened into a thin, disappointed line, but he wisely held his tongue. "Thank you for hearing me, sir," he muttered, as he turned to leave.
"I appreciate your concern," Hammond told him, unwilling to let him leave on such a cold note. "And I have heard you son."
Daniel nodded then, the trace of a hopeful smile on his lips as he left. Hammond watched him go with a heavy sigh. Personnel issues. He hated them.
**
Jack's heart was heavy as he walked towards Hammond's office. After all they'd been through, he found it hard to believe it would end like this - that SG-1, the flagship of the SGC, would be sacrificed to the petty gods of bureaucracy and regulation.
At his side, he heard Sam sigh, her unhappiness evident. And because it didn't matter anymore, he reached out and squeezed her hand. She glanced up and smiled, returning the gesture before she slid her hand away from his as they approached Hammond's office.
They both slowed to a halt, and Jack glanced at his watch. Two minutes 'til nine. They were early. He turned to face Sam, ignoring Hammond's staff who were watching them with thinly disguised interest. "Ready Major?" he asked quietly, doing his best to cheer her with a smile.
Sam nodded. "Yes sir," she replied. "Let's get it over with."
"Yeah," he said, turning away and raising his hand to rap on the door. But he paused before he knocked, and turned to her with a flash of genuine humor. "At least now we'll be able to go out," he told her. "Dinner. Maybe a movie."
She smiled at that. "You mean, like a date?"
"Sure," he replied, knocking on the door. "Why not?"
"Come in." Hammond's sharp response drove the smile from his face, and with one final, serious, glance at Sam, he sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.
The General was on the phone as they entered, and they stood together, waiting for his attention. "...yes, sir, I understand," he was saying. "Yes sir. Thank you sir, I will. Goodbye sir."
"Trouble?" Jack asked, as Hammond put down the phone.
The General shook his head, "Sit down Colonel, Major Carter."
As he sat, Jack reached into his pocket for the letter he carried, and opened his mouth to speak. But Hammond beat him to it. "You both know why you're here, so I'll get straight down to business," he said, rising to his feet, hands behind his back, and starting to pace. He wasn't enjoying this any more than they were, Jack realized, and for a moment he felt some sympathy for his CO. "I hate personnel issues," Hammond began, "but, I have no choice but to deal with them as best I can." He turned to face them then, and said, "I've sought advice on this, and the regulations apparently give me two options. First, I could order you to cease this relationship."
"Not going to happen, sir," Jack replied immediately.
Hammond turned to Sam. "Major Carter?"
"Even if we stopped seeing each other," she said quietly, "we'd still feel the same. Nothing could change that, sir."
The General nodded. "That's what I thought," he said, starting to pace again. "So we come to the second option. Reassignment - of one, or both of you."
"Sir?" Jack interrupted. "There's a third option," he said, getting to his feet and handing over his letter.
Hammond took it with a brief nod, opened and read it, then folded it neatly and held it out towards Jack. "I don't like that option, Colonel," he said.
Jack refused to take back the offered letter. "Well, with respect sir, I don't like your other two options."
"No," Hammond nodded, dropping Jack's letter onto his desk. "Neither do I. And neither, apparently, does Doctor Jackson."
"Daniel, sir?" Sam asked. "What's he got to do with it?"
Hammond smiled slightly. "He has a different perspective on military regulations," he told them. "And he has a point. The SGC needs you both. Reassignment is not an option here."
Jack frowned, suddenly unsure. He'd thought he'd known how this would go, but now everything was confused. "What are you saying, sir?"
"I needed a third option," the General explained. "So, I took this - almost - as high as I could, Colonel." He sat down, fingers steepled on the desk. "I've agreed a compromise, of sorts."
"A compromise?" Jack repeated suspiciously, sharing a glance with Sam. She just gave a little shrug, but he could see hope shining in her eyes.
"Your relationship will be permitted, on the following conditions," Hammond said. "Nothing that could be construed as fraternization will occur on base or on a mission. The nature of your relationship will not be discussed with other SGC personnel. And, while on a day-to-day basis, Major Carter will still report to you, Colonel, for the purpose of promotion assessment, I will act as her CO - to avoid any allegations of favoritism."
Jack scratched his head, trying to get his mind around what he was being told. "So, basically," he paraphrased, "we just carry on like we did before?"
Hammond nodded. "More or less, although you won't need to worry about the rumor mill."
Glancing at Sam, Jack saw the grin that was spreading over her face, and felt his own lips tug into a smile. "I think we can do that, sir," he said then.
"There is one other condition," Hammond said, fixing Jack with a serious expression. "I need your assurance, Colonel, that, should the situation arise again, you still feel able to do the right thing for your team, whatever the consequences for Major Carter."
Jack glanced down at his hands. Leaving Sam behind had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Could he do it again? He let out a long breath. "I can't pretend it would be easy, sir," he said, "but if someone ever has to make that decision about Carter, I'd rather it was me than anyone else."
Hammond remained silent for a moment, considering Jack's response. Then he gave a brief nod. "That's good enough for me, Colonel," he said, picking up Jack's letter and handing it back to him.
Jack took it with a smile. "Thank you sir," he said then, a heartfelt thanks he doubted he could properly express.
"Yes," Sam added, her voice overflowing with relief. "Thank you - this is...it's wonderful sir. Thank you."
"It's no more than you deserve," Hammond told them, with genuine emotion. "You've both given the SGC more than duty requires - I'm glad I can give you something back." Then he smiled briefly, "But you can thank Doctor Jackson," he said. "He's a good man to have on your team."
Jack nodded. "Yes sir, he is."
"All right," Hammond said gruffly, returning to his paperwork. "You're dismissed."
They stood to leave, but as they did the General looked up once more. "Jack," he called, glancing between them. "I wish you both the best of luck."
Jack just smiled. "Thank you sir - but I think we just got all the good luck we needed."
**
Daniel was in the corridor outside Hammond's office, lurking. There was no other word for it. He couldn't bear to wait in the briefing room, to read the outcome in the looks on their faces and not be able to say anything, and so he was lurking. Waiting for the meeting to end, watching the minutes tick by on his watch.
"Daniel Jackson?" he recognized Teal'c's voice and turned.
"Teal'c. Hi."
"What are you doing here?" his friend asked, glancing up and down the empty corridor.
"Ah. Waiting," he replied.
"For what?"
"For Jack. And Sam."
Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "For what purpose?"
"I just want to...." But his explanation was interrupted as its subjects emerged from Hammond's office. "Hang on," he told Teal'c, as he walked tentatively towards them. Was that a smile? Was Jack smiling? Yes. Yes! And so was Sam, a huge grin as bright as sunshine. His heart leaped.
"So?" he said, as they approached, slowing to a halt. "What happened?"
For a moment they said nothing, and then Sam rushed at him, pulling him into a tight hug while Jack started pounding him enthusiastically on the back.
"I don't know what you said," Sam murmured close to his ear, "but thank you. Thank you so much!" And then she landed a soft kiss on his cheek, before stepping back, still grinning.
"Daniel?" Jack said, holding out his hand to shake. "I owe you one. Big time."
"I, uh, take it things went well?" Daniel asked, straightening his glasses, knocked crooked by Sam's enthusiastic greeting.
"Very well," Jack nodded. And then glancing over Daniel's shoulder, he said "Hey, Teal'c."
"Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c replied, watching the scene with obvious bafflement.
Jack grinned. "Just - human stuff, Teal'c. Don't sweat it."
"I do not intend to," Teal'c assured him.
"So," Daniel said, as they headed towards the briefing room. "SG-1 stays together?"
"Oh yeah," Jack nodded. "We're back and we're here to stay!"
"You know," Daniel said, as he pushed open the briefing room door. "I'm actually kinda of looking forward to this de-briefing, Sam - I still have no idea how you managed to get out of Apophis's prison and start a mutiny on that planet!"
She smiled. "It's a long story," she warned him.
"I really don't mind," he assured her. He was just happy to see her smiling, to see them all smiling. Jack was right, SG-1 was back - with a vengeance.
"Maybe I should take notes?" Jack suggested mischievously, as he followed Sam into the room. "You never know, I might even learn something."
"Well sir," she said, eyes sparkling, "I'm always happy to try and teach an old dog new tricks."
His eyes narrowed as he took his usual seat at her side. "Old dog?" he asked.
"Figure of speech, sir," she grinned, fishing in her pocket and handing him a pen. "Here - in case your memory fails."
"No," he said. "You keep it. Just in case."
"In case what?" she asked.
"You get bored," he told her with an innocent smile. "And need to doodle."
"Doodle, sir?"
Jack shrugged. "We'll talk about it later, Major," he assured her.
"About doodling?" She obviously had no idea what he was talking about.
"Yeah," Jack nodded, a smile brightening his eyes. "There's something I think I need to ask you, Carter. Later."
Sam shook her head in confusion, but made no answer because at that moment General Hammond walked into the room and brought the meeting to order. Although Daniel had no idea what the hell Jack was talking about, from the way he was watching Sam throughout the meeting, with eyes that never lost their affectionate smile, he had an idea that something significant was about to happen. And he smiled too. He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd told Hammond they were a family. They were, they were all the family he had. And as the bonds between them strengthened, he knew that nothing would ever drive them apart. His smile broadened, and he knew that whatever happened, they'd face it together. SG-1 were here to stay, the best, the most solid defense Earth had against her enemies.
THE END!
Story Notes: Notes: First, many, many thanks to Marcy for beta reading this story, and whipping it into shape! Thank you! This is a sort of a sequel to my story "Thirty-eight Weeks" in that it takes place after the events in that story, but it's very different in content - more action, anyway! And you really don't need to have read "Thirty-eight Weeks" to understand this one, but just need to know that Sam and Jack have started a relationship. Anyway, hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think!
End Notes: Well, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, or if you didn't, let me know at salxtom@netscapeonline.co.uk
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]