samandjack.net

Story Notes: Author's Notes: Thanks to all of my betas (there's lots of them; I'm insecure): Jojo, Audrey, Becky, Liv, Vicky, and Cathy. I'm sorry if I left anyone out. Thanks also to the friendly sadists of SG1Badfic. This is the first fic I've posted; I hope I get the formatting and headers right.


The echoing footsteps of Anubis' executioner could be heard now, faint but growing louder.

Jack faced the hieroglyph-coated wall, leaning against it on one arm, almost welcoming the discomfort of the sharp-edged shapes digging into his palm. He was resigned to this; he knew death was a chance they all took every time they stepped through the gate, but the knowledge that Carter was sharing his fate turned his veins to ice.

He'd been so determined to not let emotion cloud his judgment that he hadn't assessed the risks properly and given up on a hopeless mission. He'd failed her trust in him.

The only objection she'd raised when they marched into this was, "Sir, are you sure?"

And Jack didn't know what to blow up on this new mothership without Carter's help. Hating himself almost as much as the goa'uld, he'd replied, "We have to try."

One quick bob of that blonde head, click the safety off her p-90, and she followed him to her death.

He should have realized it would all turn out like this; that one day there would finally be no last-minute rescue, no falling force shield or perfectly-timed Asgard intervention.

He should have realized before now that she would die with him.

He'd seen the executioner, hooded and dark-shrouded in Anubis' ninja- Jaffa garb. As the proclaimed "artist of death" entered the cell block, his footsteps slowed as he passed through the multi-layered force shields.

Jack wrenched himself out of his guilt and away from the wall. Carter sat on the black pseudo-stone floor nearby, arms wrapped around her torso, staring into space. Her gaze flicked to his, then to the floor; she knew this was it. He reached for her, pulling her to her feet. Her hands were cold and trembled faintly, although her face was resolute. What a damn fine officer, he thought, watching the muscles of her face as she gathered her strength. Even more, what a damn fine woman.

She deserved a better death. To hell with "leaving it in the room"; there was no future they could wait for anymore. But he could still give her one thing.

"Hey, Sam." His voice sounded like rolling gravel. "Let's die with style." He cupped her chin in the crook of his forefinger and looked for permission in her eyes. God, she still trusted him.

She reached out, stroking his stubbled cheek with the back of her fingers. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him and gently lowered his lips to hers. She responded hesitantly, then, as the heavy tread paused outside their door, she tangled her fingers in his hair and crushed him to her, kissing with a harsh grief.

As the cell door whooshed open, Jack slid one hand down to her hips and pulled her tighter in an attempt to meld to every inch of her for these last few seconds of life.

This was definitely the way to die, Jack decided, the scent of Sam Carter's sweat and the faint jasmine of her shampoo filling his nostrils, the muscles of her back and sleek hips tensing in his hands, her lips and groin hot against his.

"Jack?"

Lips still touching, they froze, their eyes open and staring into one another's. In just a fraction of a second, Jack saw shock and relief wash over Carter's face, followed rapidly by guilt and horror.

"Sam! What the hell...?"

Crap, crap, crap. Yes, this was definitely the way to die, and he *was* going to die, alright. Carter's eyes closed as he turned his head to look at their rescuer, his left hand still cupping the ass of the daughter of the angry Tok'ra.

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