The Alien by Alli Snow

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Story Notes: Title: The Alien

Author: Alli (alli@ecis.com)

Rating: PG/PG-13 (language)

Category: Future story, SJR, angst

Archive: SJA and Heliopolis

The Andromeda Series
1. The Assignment
2. The Aide
3. The Afterglow
4. The Arising
5. The Allusion
6. The Attack
7. The Accident
8. The Anger
9. The Alien

* * * * *

|| Samantha Carter ||

From the get-go I had had a strange relationship with Martouf. In fact, the word 'strange' described just about everything I felt towards him and his people. They weren't human and they weren't Gou'ald, but they were a little too close to the latter for many people's comfort. Only biologically speaking, of course. In any case, they weren't your everyday allies.

Not a meeting went by that I didn't realize that, or wish in a small, secret way that Garshaw would choose another one of the Tok'ra to interact with us. Being around Martouf was hard, and always had been. I had Jolinar to thank for that, though I also had her to thank for introducing us to the Tok'ra to begin with. Certainly a bit of discomfort on my part was a small price to pay in exchange for such associates.

It was confusing, even after all these years in which you would think I would have been able to figure most of it out. Martouf was an intelligent, charismatic man; I was able to recognize that with a scientist's eye. But the rest of it: the compulsion to laugh when he did, my eagerness to help him and his cause, my implicit trust and liking of the Tok'ra in general... how much of that was me, and how much of it was what remained of Jolinar?

I'd been battling with that question for years, and I was no closer to an answer now than I had been the day these emotions had presented themselves.

A good soldier could bury anything sentimental, anything that didn't pertain to the here and now. Maybe I wasn't a good a soldier as I'd thought.

I followed Martouf into the room and closed the door behind us, watching with a smile on his face as he inspected my quarters with a great deal of interest. "This is where you sleep?"

"Sometimes, yes. Usually I'll go home, but there's sometimes, especially right after a mission, when it's just too late or I'm too tired to make the drive. Then I just crash here. I know it isn't much to look at, but..." I shrugged.

Martouf nodded, taking it all in.

"And you are... happy here?"

I opened my mouth, and then closed it, confused. "HERE here? Like I said..."

"Not HERE," he clarified, turning towards me. "On this base. On this planet."

"Oh." I smiled. "I guess. I mean, it's my planet. It's home."

Another nod. "Could you be happy elsewhere?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, shaking my head despite myself.

"Forgive me." Martouf paced in a small circle, hands clasped behind his back, still staring at the room's walls. "But I do have a request to make."

"If this is about becoming a host..."

"No, no," he insisted. "You've made it quiet clear that you have absolutely no interest in that, and as offensive as this seems to some of my colleagues, I do respect your decision, Samantha." He paused. "We learned a great deal about you and your people through Jadae."

"We were glad to accommodate her. Maretne, too."

"You could learn a great deal about us, as well."

For a few seconds I simply stared at him, confused. Then, with a flash, it dawned on me, and I was forced to take a step back, away from him. "You want me to leave the SGC?"

"Just temporarily," he explained smoothly. "You could live and work with us, as Jadae did with you. It could be extremely beneficial for both our people, and for us as well. Especially with the System Lords on their way. You could be instrumental in actualizing the strategy to stop them and save your world."

"I could be instrumental here," I chided him. "Tell me that this doesn't have anything to do with Jolinar."

Regarding me carefully, Martouf gave a grudging nod and walked a few steps away. "I would be lying."

I nodded in self-confirmation.

"I'll admit that I was drawn to you because of what I sensed remained of Jolinar. But that is no longer the only thing. You are like the woman I loved in many ways, and I acknowledge that there is a bit of selfishness in my request. I do care for you, Samantha."

His honesty was refreshing, I realized, letting him come closer and trying to imagine O'Neill in this position. Spilling his heart to me, telling me how he thought and felt and doing it eloquently. Never, not in a million years. Maybe what I needed was a change. Maybe I could fix what had happened... in time. "I care about you, too. I always have. THAT'S the problem. I respect you and like you, but as for the rest, I'm not sure what's me and --"

"And what is Jolinar."

"Exactly. You said yourself that the host and symbiote love as one, and I know Jolinar loved you deeply..."

My voice trailed off as I finally grasped what I was about to say, what I had to say. Martouf narrowed his eyes, trying to understand, guessing what I was thinking. His expression was even, his tone not leading in the least, and yet deep down, almost concealed beneath Lantesh's façade as well as his, was a glimmer of anxious hope. "Do you love me?"

Yes... and no. I shook my head vigorously, exuberantly wishing that I had never put myself in this position. "I... feel some... semblance of love towards you, yes. And that's what worries me about... about just running off... with you," I finally responded, giving a humorless laugh, feeling an embarrassed blush climb up my neck to my face. This was insane; this was disgraceful. I should have more control than this. I should be able to tell what I was feeling and what someone else was feeling...

Unbidden, O'Neill's face appeared in my mind.

And vanished as Martouf leaned forward and touched my cheek tenderly.

* * * * *

I jumped.

"Jadae told me that you have been having some... problems with Colonel O'Neill."

Closing my eyes, I nodded minutely, knowing that of course she had to tell someone, of course this couldn't remain a private matter. "I don't know why... I don't know what's going on with him any more. Or with me. I'm just... confused."

Martouf watched me intently, his hand touching my still-warm face. "Perhaps if you spent some time away from him, it would be for the best." I looked up. "Don't think of this as 'running off' with me. Think of it as an opportunity to allow things to work themselves out."

But I've tried that, I wanted to tell him. I've been trying to let things work themselves out since this all began. And it's gotten me absolutely nowhere. I just get angrier and angrier until all I want to do is...

He took a deep breath. "You could be happy with me."

A tiny chuck of resolve broke off and went spinning into oblivion.

He was right. I COULD.

"I'll have to get permission from the General," I murmured, avoiding Martouf's brilliant eyes, feeling his hand fall from my cheek to my shoulder.

Now his voice was most obviously eager. "But you will ask?"

"I'll ask."

I looked up and saw nothing more than the man's dazzling smile, a smile O'Neill would never bestow on me, especially now. I saw a future with the Tok'ra, a future that moments ago had been on this planet, dull and lackluster. Temporary, I reminded myself. And maybe when I return, things will be better. Things will have changed. The situation will have diffused.

It was an escape route, pure and simple, and I took it.

This time, when Martouf, still beaming, touched my face, I didn't jump. I smiled back, appreciating all the possibilities - and all the avoided pain - that this man represented.

How could I not feel love toward him?

How could I not give in as he pulled my face closer to his, his eyes trained on my lips?

The kiss was tentative, feather-light... a bad idea in all respects but one I was completely ready for. Playing by the rules had, so far, gotten me nowhere, and I'd watched as O'Neill had fling after fling - two in all - with alien women. Well, wasn't it my turn to break some regulations? To stop using common sense for a couple minutes? To throw caution to the wind?

Note to self: when throwing caution to the wind, remember to lock the door.

* * * * *

|| Jack O'Neill ||

Note to self: remember to knock.

No, that's not fair. I had a pretty good idea of what to expect before I barged into Sam's quarters. Her, Marty, bad things happening... which is precisely WHY I barged into Sam's room. That and my inclination towards self-abuse. Part of me wanted to see it, NEEDED to see it...

But that didn't make it any easier to take in.

Sam and Martouf standing toe to toe, his hand cupping her cheek, his lips brushing hers. Eyes open, staring into the others' face.

I wanted so badly to gag.

But before I could summon the necessary reflex the two broke apart, whirled, and gaped at me, standing there in the doorway like some kind of avenging angel. Marty looked flustered -- no more, no less. Carter, by stark contrast, appeared caught between wanting to crawl under the bed and wanting to rip my head off.

The image was emblazoned across my mind.

Why the hell had I wanted to see that? Why the hell hadn't I just knocked or, even better, not gone after her at all? I was trying to prove something to myself, that was why. Trying to rationalize everything, trying to confirm that when you hated somebody with your very soul, nothing they could possibly do could hurt you. Nothing.

But this hurt. Worse than a Zat gun, worse than a staff weapon. This hurt badly.

I hadn't needed to see it. I'd needed to stop it.

At least there, I'd succeeded.

All my exclamations and admonishments died unborn on my lips. I paused only a second more to take in Martouf's mild chagrin and Carter's furious abashment. Than I turned and walked away.

Three... two...

Right on cue, a door slammed behind me.

"Sir!"

I kept walking, not looking back, vowing that if Carter was going to stop me she'd have to do it physically. I made a beeline for my own quarters, fully intending to lock myself in until Garshaw arrived, rant and rave, maybe throw a couple things around. Yep. Sounded like a plan.

I almost managed to push the door shut before Sam caught up with me, and she must have simply thrown her weight against it because before I could hit the lock the blasted thing was flung open again. In stalked Carter, eyes flashing, face flushed, slamming the door behind her. "What the hell was that about?"

I walked past her and opened the door, indicating that she should leave. "I was kinda wondering the same thing."

She pushed the door closed again with a ringing that reverberated in the walls and down the hallway. "You even don't have any right to ask."

"Oh really? And here I was under the impression that 'Commanding Officer' meant something. Silly me!"

* * * * *

She lifted her chin. "Martouf wants me to go back with him and the other Tok'ra. To work with him like Jadae worked with us."

I blinked in utter amazement. "And that was what? A nice way of saying no?"

A small smile played on Carter's lips. I didn't like it, not one bit. It made me think of Martouf. "I didn't say no."

Something inside me screamed. I could do nothing more than stand there and sputter and she smiled again, sardonically, circling me like a shark. "You... what... you're going to go with him?"

"If the General approves it."

"But... what the hell are you thinking?" Righteous anger exploded within me, and Carter tensed, as though sensing the eruption. "Go with them?"

"They need me."

"WE need you! If you haven't forgotten, we are right on the edge of a massive undertaking here, and these Tok'ra are the same ones who so politely informed us that if we get our asses kicked by the Gou'ald, it's our own damn fault! They might be our allies but they are NOT our friends."

"This isn't about the Tok'ra," she sneered with just as much force. "This is about Martouf."

"What's that supposed to--"

"You've never liked him."

"What's your point?"

Carter sucked in a deep breath, narrowed eyes running up and down my face. She opened her mouth to answer, and then shook her head, trying to push past, towards the door.

I caught her arm and threw her back in front of me, stunned but furious. "You want to know why I don't like the Tok'ra? Hmm? It's mostly because of Almighty Jolinar, okay? Ya know, I don't care how high and advanced and peaceful these people are, she was willing to risk blowing up the embarkation room to save her own skin. She was willing to let you and a whole bunch of other people die!"

"You think I don't know that?"

I resisted the urge to shake her. "I talked to her, Sam, and desperate or otherwise she was NOT a nice person. I very much doubt she would have returned you if we'd let her go, and she didn't just give her life for you out of the goodness of her heart. She did it so you would have those memories, and try to find the Tok'ra. And Martouf."

Snorting, Carter wrenched her arm out of my grasp, forcing me a step back bodily. "And that's why you can't stand him. Because you know you'll never have a love like that."

I stared at her, incredulous. "Even if this is about love, it doesn't make it right. Apophis loved Ammonet,"I snidely hinted. She opened her mouth, but I cut in. "Why am I not comfortable around Martouf? It's because of YOU. When he's around, you're... different. It's like a part of you just flies off and becomes Jolinar. You can't see straight when it comes to the Tok'ra, or to him. You becomes someone who'll... well, who'll run off with the man at a second's notice. That isn't LOVE, Carter, that's obedience. The obedience of another woman, an alien woman."

Still shaking her head, Sam defiantly straightened her shirt. "I've become someone else? I don't even RECOGNIZE you anymore, Jack! And I still say you're jealous. Jealous of Martouf, of the relationship he has with Jolinar and with me."

I saw red.

Her accusing me of being different... The very concept of my being jealous of Martouf... The notion of the two of them having anything that could be termed as a RELATIONSHIP... It overloaded my brain. It was just more than I could take. That and her just standing there, insubordinate, irate, exposed emotionally and physically.

At least that was my excuse for what I did next.

Without thinking, acting on sentiment and instinct alone, I grabbed Carter roughly by the shoulders and kissed her.

I expected - welcomed - an incensed scuffle, blazing eyes, probably a stinging slap across the face.

I got none of that.

She struggled at first, taking a step back, but I followed, keeping her mouth pinioned to my own. Another step; I let her pull me along.

By the third step, she'd stopped struggling.

In some ways it took me back to a flurry of lips and limbs in the locker room, years and years ago. But oh God, it was more than that. This time I wanted her, intensely, and I could tell that she wanted me too... and wasn't under any influence besides that of potent wrath. Her mouth opened, tearing at mine with single-minded fervor, one hand latched around my neck, the other sweeping down my back and lower. My eyes closed tight, I worked by feel and sense, my fingers stroking the row of buttons fastening her BDU top. Idiot things... what was the military thinking, all those buttons? Why, it'd spell certain disaster if someone had to get out of their shirt quickly.

Or if someone had to get someone ELSE out of their shirt quickly. Damned inconvenient.

All I can remember feeling is passion and a measure of... relief. All I remember thinking is: 'if we do this, it'll all be over'. The anger, the stress, the never-ending pressure of being enraged 24-7.

Carter pulled back again, but this time she wasn't trying to escape my arms. The bed was only a few inches away.

I opened my eyes.

'If we do this, it'll all be over.'

Images of sexual harassment suits and court martial flashed across my mind like howling banshees. Daniel and Teal'c and Warren, shaking their heads in amazement. 'I knew he was mad at her, but I never imagined...' An adaequat career and a few brilliant friendships... just gone.

I'd lost Carter. I couldn't lose the others.

Just as roughly as I had begun the kiss, I ended it, and the look on Sam's face as I harshly seized her wrists tore my heart. My libido tilted and twirled and my breath came in thick, heavy rasps. "Garshaw's coming here to explain the game plan. Then she and the others are leaving, and I'm going home to get some stuff."

Roughly, I put her face in front of mine, our bodies still touching, our hearts miles apart.

Lost to me.

"When I get back," I hissed. "I want you gone."

* * * * *

Coming soon... The Archeologist

The more feedback I get, the more I write... it's a vicious cycle...

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