Never Alone 31: Little Boxes
Previously:
"I love you, Jack O'Neill, way more than words can express."
Taking her hands, he twisted them around so he was facing her and pulled her into his embrace. "I so know that feeling," he said, before letting go and turning back to the coffee machine, but he was thinking about how clearly she had demonstrated that love the previous night. Way more than words can express? She was so right about that. Their lovemaking the night before was going to form one heck of a great memory in his large bank of great Sam memories. A memory he could draw on and cherish any time he needed her to be with him when she was absent.
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Flashback to previous night:
Despite the earlier hints about lovemaking, Sam managed to catch him off guard. She'd given no further sign of those intentions and Jack had convinced himself she still needed more time. As it turned out she was pretty determined to seduce him - and it had been quite some seduction, excruciatingly and wonderfully slow, and filled with tender love rather than lust.
Having disappeared for a while to read her personal mails and check online into some of the wedding ideas they'd discussed, Sam returned to the living room to find Jack dozing on the couch. As she bent over to kiss his cheek, his eyes opened and he smiled warmly, and irresistibly. When he opened his mouth to speak, she placed her finger upon it to stop his words.
"I'll tell you all about it tomorrow," she whispered. "It's our time now."
Jack eyebrows arched enquiringly but he said nothing. She touched her fingertips to his cheek, smoothing them along his face and over his hair, before moving her face closer and capturing his lips. The kiss was long and powerful and it was obvious to Jack that Sam intended for them to make love, so he started to caress her, but she stopped that too.
"My show, my way," she breathed into his ear. "Go put those dress blues on."
Jack gasped, his desire increased by several notches, and he nodded. Standing upright, she took his hand and led him to the bedroom, stopping at the door and urging him to enter. He eyed her curiously but she remained propped against the doorframe, motionless.
"Dress blues," she insisted.
Unmoving, she simply watched while he stripped out of his casual wear and dressed in the formal clothing. Obeying her command, Jack continued to observe her as overtly as she did him, noting the small smile on her face as she seemingly drank in every movement he made. He returned the smile and she winked and blew him a kiss, causing his heart to leap into his chest and his stomach to churn.
Jack anticipated the special nature of this lovemaking because he realised Sam wanted it to be special - a coming together of the pair after their keenly felt rift, which might not have been as overt as their current mutual gazing, but had been overshadowing their relationship nonetheless. Even before she touched him as intimately as he expected, he was worked up, horny and filled with lust by this tease. And tease it most certainly was for a very long while.
Once he straightened his tie, she approached, walking around him and eyeing him up and down as if he was on parade. Cocking her head and staring, she nodded as if making up her mind about something, and her hands grasped his tie.
"Call that straight?" she questioned, "You should be ashamed, airman!"
"Yes ma'am," he agreed, his breath catching in his throat as she fiddled with the tie. Then she surprised him by pulling him by it towards the bed and pushing him into a seated position. "Oh my!" he exclaimed.
"I didn't give you permission to speak, flyboy."
"No ma'am," Jack said obediently, willing to comply with her whim. This was pretty damned hot and she hadn't even got started yet. 'Man, did I pick well when I fell for you or what?' he thought excitedly.
Sam crouched in front of him, removing the shoes and socks he'd so recently put on, and massaging his bare feet for a while. Jack shuddered with pleasure and then grunted when her hand wandered slowly along his pants up his thigh towards his crotch. She smirked.
"Good," she said with satisfaction. Then, while he remained seated, she rose and straddled his legs. Grabbing the tie, she pulled it tight and kissed him with passion until he was no longer able to breathe. At that point she withdrew her mouth from his, loosening her hold on his tie and licking his face.
"God, Sam," he gasped.
"Shhh."
"Baby…" She kissed him again, effectively shutting him up, but when his hands started to wander along her back, she unlocked their lips.
"No!" she said. "I expect obedience or you will be punished." His hands fell away as he complied. If Sam wanted complete control of their lovemaking, he'd let her have it. Very hot!
Removing the tie and casting it away, Sam started to unbutton his shirt, stopping once she'd exposed his neck. At first she simply pressed her tongue to the little notch at the center of his sternum, then she licked up over his Adam's apple and in outwards stokes over the surface of his neck.
It was then Jack realised she was going to seduce him in the most leisurely but torturous way possible. He groaned and she grasped the lapels of his jacket, easing it off his shoulders without removing it entirely. Then she smoothed her fingers over the bare flesh of his chest and shoulders, as far as she could reach under the remaining closed buttons of his shirt.
Pushing him into a prone position on the bed, she slowly undid the other buttons, leaving the shirt tucked into his pants but allowing access to his torso. Pulling the shirt open wider, her hot wet tongue ventured along his clavicle, then lightly over his chest hair. Initially, her touch was so light that she only tickled at those hairs without touching his skin, but then she pressed harder onto his flesh, until her mouth reached his nipples. Carefully, she sucked and licked lightly at each in turn, delighted by the small sounds of frustrated pleasure expressed by her lover as she worked.
Her hands ran over his jacket, reaching the medals pinned to his breast, which she caressed lovingly, smiling and whispering in his ear seductively. "My handsome, brave hero. So sexy, so drop dead gorgeous. Oh Jack, I love you my darling. I'm going to devour you, every inch of you. I'm going to bleed you dry."
Jack moaned, frustration, desire and expectation written clearly on his face, giving her pleasure and urging her on with her tease.
"Sam, honey…"
"Shhh, my rules, remember?"
He said nothing, merely grunting both his submission and dissatisfaction.
This slow seduction continued for what seemed to be an age as she unhurriedly removed his shirt and jacket inch by inch, searing his flesh with her tongue and fingers as each small area of him was exposed to her. Once she was ready to continue, her hands reached down to his fly, which she gradually opened, teasing him with her fingertips through his boxers.
Jack knew this cruelly torturous, but simultaneously rapturous, seduction was nowhere near completion and steeled himself to await her desires. He longed to take control, to strip her naked and caress her with his fingers, to give them both satisfaction. But this was not what Sam wanted so he resisted those impulses, which was no easy task. He was a wild man straining at the leash, but knew he would be driven even wilder before this was over.
She overwhelmed him. He was captivated, enchanted and held in her thrall, her prisoner and slave, the subject and object of her whim. Her mouth, tongue and hands devoured every morsel of his flesh and he ached and tingled all over with need and desire.
Sam eased herself off him, standing, her eyes telling him not to move but just watch, and she started to remove her own clothing in a slow-motion strip tease. Attentively, Jack regarded every move she made with increasingly darkening and lust filled eyes. Small noises indicating excitement emanated from his mouth. Then she stood before him in sublime nakedness and he groaned, longing to touch her.
His dark eyes and expression told her everything she needed to know. He was suffering, yet ecstatic; agonised, yet elated. She smiled erotically in response, her eyes dancing with gleeful taunting, and then approached, sashaying her hips suggestively.
"Oh god!" Jack uttered under his breath, but if she heard she gave no sign of it, towering over his prone form and bending to run a finger down from his throat to the top of his pants. She paused there for seemingly endless moments and licked her lips sensuously. Jack grunted, his eyes begging her to touch his most intimate parts, but she declined for a long time before starting to pull his pants down over his hips and thighs.
Sam didn't remove them entirely, leaving them at half-mast, his boxers still in place, and she regarded him thoughtfully, beaming with delight before meeting his beseeching eyes again.
"Pull your legs up onto the bed, my beautiful hero," she said in a tone laden with sensuality. In different circumstances Jack might have demurred at her use of those words, but not while she made love to him. In this context, Sam occasionally used such sweet talk as part of her seductive foreplay. He'd been around this block with her more than once and had to admit it was real hot.
"Yes ma'am," he whispered breathily, as he obeyed, his voice rough and hoarse with longing. She so loved him calling her ma'am - another ingredient of the sexual fun.
Already crazy with desire, her continuing caresses deepened his need for completion. "I can't, oh god, I can't…"
"Yes you can, my love, and you will. I'm not finished with you yet, my courageous, gorgeous general," she said huskily, the gravelly pitch of her voice enhancing Jack's yearning.
"Sam, please," he begged but she merely shook her head, shifting away from those intimate regions and moving to straddle his knees. Then she lowered her head towards him and kissed his belly button, dipping her tongue inside and twirling it around in circular movements.
She paused at the waist of his boxers, breathing softly onto his skin as a hand crawled up his inner thigh, and underneath, her fingers teasing every inch she could cover without touching him there. Jack moaned with desperate need, and he idly wondered how long he could go on like this, and how long she could make him suffer the agony and ecstasy.
Slowly removing his pants and boxers entirely, she caressed, smoothed, petted and taunted, determined to draw out his delicious agony for as long as possible, taking him to the brink of ecstasy, and leaving him begging her to finish it, every inch of him screaming its longing.
"Soon, tough guy, soon," she promised with a purr, trailing a finger over his hips and along his outer thigh until she reached the knee and traced it up his inner thigh again.
He raised his torso off the bed and grabbed her arm. "Sam!" he begged.
"No, Jack, no touching. If you touch I'll just have to make the agony last longer, my darling."
That she wouldn't let him touch her made the torture of her seduction all the more gloriously frustrating. He wailed despairingly, but removed the hand and sank back onto the bed figuring she wanted to prove a point, which she did, in an action speaks louder than words Jack O'Neillish kind of way. That was often Sam's way too. In some things they could be alike.
"Better," she said, "My good, obedient, fearless man. You're all mine, Jack. You belong to me, body and soul, don't you?"
"Yes," he agreed, his breath hard and heavy. "I'm yours, baby, always."
"Call me ma'am. I love it when you call me ma'am," she declared with a smile.
"Yes, ma'am, I belong to you body and soul."
"You're mine to do with as I will?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am. You can do anything you want with me."
She smiled in a self-satisfied kind of way. "Better, much better."
The pause had caused him to pull back from the brink and she knew it. All the better for her to taunt and torment him before finally allowing him satisfaction, and all the better for him when she gave him that release.
Jack wasn't sure how much longer he could endure the heavenly torture. But, he knew when she finally freed him it would be magnificent, and cautioned himself to hold back until she released him. If this was punishment then he was a glutton for it. He'd use every mind trick in the book to keep from going over the edge too soon. And she continued relentlessly onwards with her quest until the sound that came from his mouth was akin to the growl of a wild animal.
"Help me, ma'am. Please help me," he implored and her eyes roamed up to look at his face, which begged just as emphatically.
Having taken him so close, but kept him so far away for so long, she united their bodies at last in the ultimate sexual act. Grasping his hands in hers, she watched with a smile as she finally granted release, and he screamed his pleasure. Then she kissed him on the mouth, the initial tenderness leading to intense passion as she allowed him to caress her, and Jack relished his freedom to stroke her soft, smooth skin.
"Shit, Sam, that was… that was…" Jack couldn't find words to express his feelings so settled for less than he believed she deserved. "You're magnificent, beautiful, the best."
She smiled, apparently satisfied by those words even if he wasn't, and simply held him for a while. Then, pulling away, she reached for his hand, placing it between her legs.
"You figure you need to hint?" he asked with a lascivious grin.
"Not really, but I am anyway."
"Open wide," he said with a chuckle, and she giggled.
His touch became increasingly intimate and sensual. "Jack, don't take too long," she said and he arched his eyebrows quizzically.
"After what you just did to me… ma'am?"
"It was good wasn't it?"
"It was… fantastic."
"Then I demand my reward."
"That's what I'm doing, babe." He smiled with that irresistible crinkling of his dimples, and twinkle in his eyes.
"My gorgeous, sexy conqueror," she drawled.
"I try, ma'am," he drawled with a teasing smirk.
If she wanted this to be over quickly, Jack was more than happy to oblige and knew exactly what to do to hasten her fulfilment. His hands, lips and tongue caressed and sucked those most intimate places until she squirmed beneath him ecstatically.
"Oh, Jack!" she cried, grasping his short hair and pulling at his scalp. "Don't stop."
Although he was tempted to tease her as she had teased him, Jack had determined early on in this lovemaking session that Sam would get whatever she wanted. He was hers to command.
"No, ma'am," he said compliantly.
His long fingers stroked and petted as he whispered in her ear, telling her how beautiful and brilliant she was, and how much he loved her. When she screeched her satisfaction, her flesh sweaty and tinged with pink, it was a sight Jack believed would never cease to thrill him for as long as he lived.
Contentedly, he kissed her thighs before moving to lie beside her and pull her into his arms. She curled up close to him with a serene smile on her lips, and his happiness danced in his eyes as he cuddled her tenderly.
"I love you Jack O'Neill."
"That makes me very happy."
"I know, and I love you to be happy. You make me very happy too, my darling."
"Not always."
"That isn't possible, even for you, super hero."
Jack laughed and snuggled even closer. Did this mean he was forgiven? She never said and he didn't ask. What really mattered was right now, and right now she loved him, apparently without reservation. He returned those feelings with a power and strength that would have staggered her if she could have known.
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The photograph was well thumbed, torn and worn at the edges, as if handled a number of times. Jack as a youngster stared out from the slightly dulled shiny card with a cheeky smile.
"Ah, to be that young again," he quipped in jest, looking over at Sam when he heard her chuckle. "I'm kidding!"
"The sweetie in the photo is you?" she queried, tongue firmly in cheek. The photo was clearly Jack as a child and he looked as sweet and delicious as apple pie.
"Sweetie? Ack!" He mimed gripping her throat in a mock stranglehold.
"You were cute!" she protested. "Although I hope you weren't as cantankerous."
"Cantankerous? Me?" he said with feigned incredulity. Sam merely glared at him. "Okay," he admitted grudgingly. "but I'm old enough for cantankerous to suit me." He pouted and Sam laughed. As Jack examined the photo again, however, she noticed a shadow darken his face and her grin turned to a dismayed frown.
"I wouldn't want to live through that again," he murmured and Sam winced, briefly squeezing his hand in support, reiterating she was there for him.
He smiled thinly and turned back to the photo, flipping it over in his hand, eyes widening with surprise. "That's my mom's writing," he said, passing the photograph to Sam. She took it and looked on the back.
'My beautiful Jonathan,' it read. Sam glanced at Jack to gauge his reaction, seeing that he appeared puzzled and thoughtful.
After arming Sam with enough coffee to keep an elephant awake, Jack had carried the box into the living room and sat on the couch, ready to open it. Next to the box, and at Jack's feet, Sam sat on the floor ready to do almost anything to help him through these traumatic moments. The first couple of things he removed from the box weren't linked to his unhappy childhood, and this was the first item that had raised a reaction.
"I don't remember this photo," he declared once she handed it back. He stared at it a bit longer before putting it to one side and reaching into the box for something else. He came up with a handful of photos. "Might as well go for broke, huh?" he said with a shrug that was more nonchalant than he felt.
"Wanna come sit up here? You'll see better," Jack suggested, patting the couch next to him. She took the hint, sitting by his side and watching intently while he placed the photos on his knees and started to browse. "Oh!" he exclaimed when he saw the first one.
Sam gazed at a photo of what appeared to be the whole family on vacation. The O'Neill's were sitting on a beach, looking relaxed and happy, Jack with his brothers dotted around a sandcastle in the foreground, a proud expression on his face, and his parents sitting behind on towels, grinning. Jack was obviously still very young, maybe no more than six or seven.
"I remember that vacation," he said enthusiastically. "It was great! Dad helped us build that sandcastle. I remember ice-cream." Jack grinned boyishly at the memory. "We had a good time. Mom and dad were kind of cool on that vacation." His voice tailed off and he added wistfully, "I don't recall us having that many vacations, but this was the best. Wish we could have had more good times like that." He sighed sadly and Sam's heart could have broken in two, but she refrained from comment and let Jack's thoughts ramble.
The next few photos were of various family members on that same vacation. They each provoked a comment that spoke of happy times, including one of his mother and father smiling broadly, taken from a crooked angle and with the tops of their heads cut off.
"Hey, I took that! I was so young and dad let me take it. God, that's weird. I'd forgotten all about it. I was so excited and he was so patient as he explained how to use the camera and then… he let it go, trusting I wouldn't drop it. I remember mom and dad kissing briefly before they posed." He paused, looking up at Sam. "There's so much I'd forgotten."
"I'm glad these bring you some good memories," she replied, running her hand briefly along his forearm.
"But what happened, Sam? Why…?" Jack looked baffled.
"I wish I could tell you."
"Guess I'll never know or understand. None of us ever really know all of it, do we?" Sam knew it was a rhetorical question so said nothing and Jack pulled his eyes away, back to the photo, staring at it a while longer before placing it on the 'looked at' pile.
"I wonder why they kept it?" he questioned. "It's a crappy photo."
"Maybe they kept it because you took it."
"That so doesn't sound like my parents."
She reached over to the photo and picked it up again, turning it in her hand to peruse the back before handing it to him. "Your mother wrote something." Jack looked, his face a picture of stunned disbelief.
"It says 'Jonathan's first photograph'. Son of a… you're right! That-that's kind of strange."
"Did you look at any of the others?" Sam asked and Jack shook his head.
"Only a couple."
He picked up the small pile of photos and turned them with their backs facing up, sifting through and pausing when he got to one that bore handwriting, then turning it to look at the photo and the writing with astonishment. There were comments like 'Jonathan's first sandcastle. We were so proud' written on some of them.
Trying not to think too hard about that, Jack moved swiftly on to look at the next batch of photos, but Sam could see those few words scrawled on old photographs affected him deeply.
There were quite a few snapshots, some of people Jack couldn't recall and he didn't know if they were family or not, some of his brothers and mother and father, some of Jack. Sam thought he'd been a good-looking child, and you could tell he was going to be very handsome when he grew older. Indeed, she believed him more handsome now than ever. The Jonathan in the photographs was a far cry from that man, so different from her Jack.
"You okay?" she asked.
"No, but I will be," he replied with a faint smile. She gave his arm a quick squeeze and he turned his attention back to the box.
Underneath the photos, Jack found smaller boxes, some of which contained a few items of his mother's jewellery. He didn't believe any of it would be worth a lot, as his family hadn't been very well off, but there was much of sentimental value. He could remember occasions when he'd seen his mother wear one piece or another, the recall so vivid that he imagined he could smell her perfume and feel her embrace. So much he'd forgotten…
"If you want any of this…" he said to Sam, indicating the jewellery with a wave of his hand. "Those earrings are pretty, and this necklace, and that broach." With uncanny accuracy, he picked out the pieces he thought might suit Sam or that she might like.
"You can't give me those," she protested.
"Why not? They'll only get put back in this box and sit hidden away somewhere for years, won't they? I want you to have them."
"I'm not sure… every time I wear something it will remind you of your mother. I'm not sure that's good."
Jack grasped her arm reassuringly. "These bring back some good memories, really they do," he said with a small smile. "Take 'em. You'll be my wife, Sam, they belong to you now mom's gone. What's mine is yours, all that, Mrs O'Neill – well nearly."
His smile broadened and he kissed the tip of her nose affectionately. "Guess I ought to practice. Mrs O'Neill, Mrs O'Neill, Mrs O'Neill…" he repeated with a teasing grin. Sam was happy to see him smiling as she hadn't really expected that while they were sorting the box.
"Sounds good," she remarked, "but what do you think about Carter-O'Neill, or O'Neill-Carter?"
"Ack!" responded Jack, telling Sam everything she needed to know of his views on that subject.
"Yeah, pretty awful. I don't really want double-barrelled."
"So you'll just stick with Carter, huh?"
"Colonel Carter, Mrs O'Neill," she replied, making Jack beam with delight.
"Sweet! Could get real confusing, but I like it. Can't say I'm surprised. You've only wanted to be Mrs O'Neill since you were 13, after all," Jack mocked with a smirk.
Sam rolled her eyes. "I am so never going to live that down, am I?"
"Aw, come on Dorothy, let Mr Scarecrow have his fun." Jack pouted amusingly and Sam laughed. "I love that you had a crush on me, go figure."
"Well, it's gone way beyond a crush now, flyboy."
"You bet," Jack agreed with a grin. "Will you take the jewellery? I'd really like you to."
She nodded. "I'd be honored to wear it, Jack."
He kissed her briefly on the lips and then turned his attention to one of the smaller boxes. "Whoa!" he exclaimed when he opened it to find it filled with letters. "These are addressed to my mom in my grandma's handwriting."
Studying the envelopes, and briefly scanning the contents of some letters he chose at random, Jack sighed, looking thoughtful and tapping the paper against his hand.
"They seem to be from my grandma to my mom, telling her about me, enclosing photos… I never knew." He waved one in the air. "This one tells mom I joined the Air Force, tells her how proud she would be of her son. There's a photo of me in uniform. This one's from when I was in high school, telling her I'd met a nice girl and was doing well in my classes."
"So your mom took more of an interest than you thought."
"Apparently." Jack seemed shocked and bewildered by that fact and sank back in the couch, staring up at the ceiling and brushing through his hair with one hand. "Why didn't grandma ever say anything? Why didn't mom write to me? If she'd only… oh god!"
"Are you going to read them?" Sam asked, touching him briefly on his thigh.
"Sure, later. Let's finish the box, see what else is here." He sat up again, mind racing furiously about what he'd learned. Jack had never for one moment suspected his mom and grandma kept in touch. From what he'd scanned, the correspondence seemed sporadic, sometimes separated by years, and based around major events in Jack's life. But his mom must have replied because he had spotted a couple of references to her letters. It was going to be really weird to read the details of his grandmother's account and see how she viewed him.
He delved into the larger box and picked out another letter. The name "Jonathan O'Neill" appeared on the front in a woman's scrawl, addressed to him at his grandma and grandpa's cabin in Minnesota, but with no indication it had ever been posted. The paper almost looked new, but the letter was old, probably never having seen the light of day for many years so having little opportunity to fade or yellow with age.
Jack was filled with uncertainty, disturbed by the notion of reading this letter from his mom, intended for him but never sent all those years ago, only to resurface now his mother was gone. If she'd wanted him to read it she would have sent it, wouldn't she? But how could he refrain from reading it?
"Crap!" he muttered under his breath.
"Jack?" Sam's voice was filled with apprehension.
"I'm fine," he replied, taking a breath, opening the letter and starting to read. Sam watched as Jack's eyes moved over the page and was shocked to see tears in them, although he never let them fall, sniffing them back. He handed her the letter and she read it in silence.
"Jonathan, my darling son," it read.
"Maybe one of these days you'll get to read this because I surely won't be sending it to you, but it helps me to write stuff down sometimes. You're probably too young to understand anyway, and you're headstrong and unforgiving, although I can't say I blame you for that. You're my son and I let you down.
"I probably never should have had children. I never was much good at mothering and all my boys suffered because of that, especially you, my first-born and treasure. I'm too weak to be a good mother, too selfish, too afraid, and your father is too strong and overpowering. I wither in his shadow, and he scares me, but I can forget that when I'm drinking, pretend everything is all right and be happy for a while and then sleep peacefully.
"I'm proud you stood up to him, even though it means I lost you. But I lost you to a better and happier place, and much better people in your grandma and grandpa, or I hope so for your sake. You'll be safe there, can run wild like you should, and become a much better man than I could make you.
"I never was much of a one for words. I just need you to know I love you, son, although I doubt you'd realise it. I hope one day I can tell you that and you can forgive me for everything I've done, and even more for everything I haven't.
Your loving mother"
As she finished reading, Sam felt tears pricking at her eyes and wondered what Jack was thinking. Enfolding him her arms, she rocked him against her, soothing his hair with her hand.
"I'm glad you're here, Sam," he said after a lengthy silence.
"So am I."
"I never dreamed, never thought…"
"Never thought what? That your mother loved you, cared about you?" Sam probed.
"Yeah."
Sam waited for Jack to say more, but he didn't, so she didn't push. She just hoped the letter would help with his grief, help him to mourn the loss of his mother and perhaps that happy childhood he had missed, and bring him some peace of mind. Lord knows, he needed that.
***************
TE
Story Notes: Email: su_freund@ficwithfins.com
Website: http://www.ficwithfins.com/
An Adult Only version can be found on my site. Here's the link: http://www.ficwithfins.com/AA3_1/archive/3/neveralone6.html
Content Warnings: Use of relatively mild & vulgar language. Sexual situations (non explicit sex scene with some slightly graphic elements)
Season: 9 onwards
Spoilers: None
Sequel/Series Info: Sequel to Never Alone 30: Head to Head
Status: Continuing series
File Size: 31 KB
Archive: My site, Jackfic, SJD yes, Gateworld, FanFiction Net
Author's Note: Thanks to Lynette (Flatkatsi) for her encouragement and helpful suggestions in beta reading this story. The very young do not always do as they are told, so any remaining errors, omissions or peculiarities are entirely mine.
Website: http://www.ficwithfins.com/
An Adult Only version can be found on my site. Here's the link: http://www.ficwithfins.com/AA3_1/archive/3/neveralone6.html
Content Warnings: Use of relatively mild & vulgar language. Sexual situations (non explicit sex scene with some slightly graphic elements)
Season: 9 onwards
Spoilers: None
Sequel/Series Info: Sequel to Never Alone 30: Head to Head
Status: Continuing series
File Size: 31 KB
Archive: My site, Jackfic, SJD yes, Gateworld, FanFiction Net
Author's Note: Thanks to Lynette (Flatkatsi) for her encouragement and helpful suggestions in beta reading this story. The very young do not always do as they are told, so any remaining errors, omissions or peculiarities are entirely mine.
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 ]