Title: "Thine Own Self"

Author: Sally Reeve and Gunfodder

Email: sallyreeve@blueyonder.co.uk and/or gunfodderuk@yahoo.co.uk

Rating: PG

Classification: S/J romance, angst, action/adventure

Spoilers: Season Four (Set mid season five)

Archive: SJA and Heliopolis. Anyone else, please just ask so I can find you!

Summary: O'Neill's brother comes to town, and Carter finds herself caught in the middle when disaster strikes SG-1.

Notes: This story was begun by Gunfodder way back when...and has now, after many months, been finished by me! Hence, the first five parts are re-posts (since I doubt anyone will remember the beginning!) and the rest is all new. As always, the whole thing is now available on my website: http://uk.geocities.com/mystories_uk/

Thanks: To Erika and Ann, for pulling the ending apart and making me write a better one! And to Ann, for her detailed and methodical beta reading... One day I'll remember to write 'its' and not 'it's'! And to Gunfodder, for letting me finish her great story!
 
 

"Thine Own Self"

By

Gunfodder and Sally Reeve

Part One - by Gunfodder

Jack screwed up his eyes against the harsh winter sunlight. He'd left his sunglasses in the car and wasn't in the mood to go back for them. Leaning back on the park bench, he sighed significantly, arms stretched out in both directions across the seat back.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad, he thought hopefully, after all, it wasn't as if he saw much of what family he had left...if ever. And so what if his brother was a bit of a moron? It was just one afternoon...

"Hey, Jacky!" The voice lifted over the serenity of the park, causing Jack O'Neill to cringe as an elderly couple looked over their shoulders in disdain. "Jack! Jacky boy, over here!"

O'Neill waved resignedly to his younger brother, who was jogging towards him from the other end of the park. Jack didn't get up, waiting instead for Justin to approach. It gave the older O'Neill sibling a chance to observe his kid brother, taking in the baseball cap, jeans and jacket. He hadn't changed a bit, in dress or in demeanor, since the last time they had seen each other, which had to be what - seven years ago? Jesus, was it really that long? A pang of guilt ran through Jack as he realized how long it had been since the clan O'Neill had actually been together. Sure, they had exchanged the odd telephone call and Christmas card - well, Jack had received Christmas cards, without remembering to return the gesture - but other than that, silence had prevailed.

It was Jack's own fault. Since Charlie's death and the gradual dissolution of his marriage, he had withdrawn further and further from family life of all description, preferring instead to keep clear of anything that resembled such gatherings. Eventually, with the advent of the Stargate program, he had all but disappeared from the real world altogether, at least as far as his extended family was concerned.

Justin reached the bench as Jack finally stood up, an awkward smile on his face. Justin regarded him for a moment before pulling him into a typically manly embrace, thumping his brother on the back vigorously.

"Jack! God, it's good to see you, buddy - it's been too long!"

"It has. Good to see you too, Justin."

They sat side by side on the bench, Justin removing his cap and scrubbing a hand through his hair in a manner which would have reminded anyone else of Jack himself.

In fact, Justin was pretty much a carbon copy of his brother in the looks department, if slightly younger (and less weather worn), in every respect that mattered. Justin was perhaps a little taller, blonde hair a little longer than the military cut of his brother's. He was tanned a deeper shade than Jack too, otherwise featuring the same build. Justin's eyes, less lined than his older brother's, were nevertheless the same shade of brown - maybe a little more prone to a mischievous twinkle, but characteristically O'Neill nonetheless. In fact, it would be hard pressed to find anyone unable to pin them as brothers just from one glance at them together.

Justin had never been inclined towards the military mode of life, preferring instead to serve the US government in a different way. He currently held the distinction of Senior Ranger in the Yosemite National Park, following several years in arboretum research world-wide for the government. Jack never had been able to work out his brother's fascination for trees - and if any of SG-1 had even known that he had a brother, they probably would have understood his jokes about the species a little more.

"So, how's the plant life?" Jack asked, sardonically, "We still under threat from a sycamore invasion?"

Justin laughed, a deep throaty rumble that lit up his face. Jack wondered if he looked that happy when he laughed. It reminded him of someone else whose laugh could light up the sky like a firecracker...

"The Park's doing great - I love it out there. There's so much to save in the world, you know? It's good to be contributing a little."

"I know." Jack didn't really know what to say - this was always the worst problem when he met up with the various scattered remains of his family. He didn't seem to ever be able to hold a conversation. Worse, he never seemed particularly desperate to do so anyway. You're just a miserable jerk, O'Neill, he thought.

"Well, look, Jack, I don't have long - there's this fundraiser I have to go to tonight. But since I'm here in Colorado for a few days, it would be great to spend some time together, or something. It's been so long since we last saw each other - what, six, seven years? What have you been up to all this time?"

This was the other problem that they always had - the nature of Jack's career and the military stuff he was forever mixed up in was a sure-fire conversation stopper. "Umm..."

"Hey, tell you what, why don't we head off somewhere for coffee? I could do with a caffeine shot - I find flights so tiring, no matter how brief they are!"

Jack nodded, wondering if Justin really needed to be any more awake than he currently appeared to be, but opting to simply go along with the plan. Standing, they began walking back to the entrance of the park, Justin beginning to fill Jack in with various details of his life over the past seven years. Jack found it less boring than he thought he would - at least his brother seemed to have dropped his intensely annoying habit of quipping at just about everything that came out of his mouth. Yeah, he thought, maybe this was going to be okay after all...

They had just started crossing the car park towards Jack's car when Justin stopped dead. Jack looked around at him.

"Whoa. Look at that."

Following his gaze, Jack saw a woman getting out of her car, short blonde hair whisked back suddenly by the wind. She wore tight blue jeans on long slender legs, a pale blue sweater and sun glasses. She was beautiful, Jack could tell even from here, although the strong light in his unprotected eyes prevented him from a clear look. She paused after shutting the door, and appeared to be looking around for someone or something.

"Wow. She's incredible," Justin was still staring at the woman, who was pulling out a cell phone.

"Justin, from what I remember, you'd date anything in a skirt," retorted Jack, his brother's indignant comeback drowned out by his cell springing into life. "Jack O'Neill," he answered crisply, free finger to his ear in an attempt to block out the wind and traffic.

"Sir, it's me."

"Carter? What's up?"

"I'm sorry to bother you off duty, Sir, but we've got a bit of a problem with Daniel. I called by your place because your phone seemed to be out of range, and your next door neighbor said you'd gone for a wander in the park."

"Right." Jack screwed up his eyes again, glancing at his brother who was still transfixed by the woman at the other end of the car park. She held a phone to her ear, the other hand shielding her eyes from the sun. Jack's heart did a back flip, "Carter...you wouldn't happen to be at the park right now, would you?"

"Yes, Sir, I'm in the car park...where are you?"

Jack raised his arm and waved at Carter, who took a couple of seconds to realize who was waving at her. He heard her laugh, both down the phone and through the growing wind across the concrete. Hanging up, he started walking towards his Second in Command.

"Jack! What are you doing? Don't tell me you know her?" Justin was at his elbow in a flash.

"Sure do, little bro -"

"Colonel!" Carter approached, the bounce in her step and the beam on her face infectious, "I didn't recognize you! Nice jacket! But where's your sunglasses? Aren't they like your amulet, or something?"

Jack grinned, mostly to disguise the disconcerting feeling of seeing Carter out of uniform. She always looked entirely too feminine for her own good - or for his. "I left them in the car. So, what's up with Daniel?"

Sam looked curiously at Justin before replying, "It's not hugely serious, Sir. He fell down the stairs and broke his ankle at the base. They've set the ankle but he decided to stay overnight, so I said I'd pick up some of the books he needs for the research he wants to do. The spare key wasn't where he said it'd be, so I thought..."

"You thought it'd be easier to get mine than to go back to work."

"Right," She grinned, "Always thinking of the environment, that's me - no point sending all those needless fumes into the atmosphere!"

"Now, that sounds like a woman after my own heart," Justin, who was evidently desperate to say something - anything - to Carter.

"Really?" Carter looked at him for a second before sticking a hand out, "Samantha Carter, and you would be?"

"Justin O'Neill. It's good to meet you, Samantha."

"It's Sam," she corrected, eyes showing surprise as they shifted to Jack and back again, "Justin O'Neill?"

"Carter, this is my kid brother. He's in town for the evening." Jack muttered gruffly, for some reason extremely uncomfortable about introducing the two of them.

"Your brother? Sir, I didn't even know you had one!"

"Well..." Jack shrugged.

" 'Sir'?" Quoted Justin, "Don't tell me that my dear brother has the good fortune to actually work with you, Sam?"

Jack cringed for the second time in half an hour. Sam smiled.

"My title is Major. Well, one of my titles. I'm Colonel O'Neill's second in command".

Justin looked at his brother, who resolutely looked away.

"I knew there was a reason you joined the military, Jack, I just never thought I'd envy you for it!"

Carter grinned a slightly bashful smile, and dropped her eyes. Jack cleared his throat.

"I've got that spare key of Daniel's in the car, Carter, let me grab it for you."

She nodded, following as Jack headed off towards his vehicle.

"Sorry about that, Carter," Jack muttered, when they were far enough clear of Justin to be out of earshot, "my brother can be a little...coarse...when he puts his mind to it."

"No problem," she said, brightly, as if her attention had been somewhere else, "so, he's your...younger...brother?"

Jack suddenly wished he's never agreed to look after Daniel's spare house key. "Yeah, by five years," he answered, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a bunch of keys, "We don't see a lot of each other." Jack selected a key, pulled it off and held it out to Sam, "Here you go. Tell Daniel well done from me."

Sam laughed briefly, "I think he's secretly glad to be out of commission for a while. I mean, he gets all those nurses - not to mention Janet - running around after him, and all the time in the world to study those new 'glyphs we found!"

"You're probably right. I wouldn't put anything past him." Jack smiled at Carter, taking a mental snapshot of her out of BDU's for a change. "Well, I should get back to the family stuff. Justin's only in town for this evening, so..."

"Of course, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Trust me, Carter, I'd rather spend time with you any day of the week. Hell, I'd rather spend time with Maybourne!" said Jack as they returned together to where Justin waited.

"Sir!" Sam was amused but outraged, smiling as she looked up at Justin, "Well, it was nice meeting you, Justin. Have a good evening, you two."

Justin wasn't inclined to let her go so quickly, however. "Hey, why don't you join us for coffee, Sam? There must be a place close by..."

Sam looked surprised and then tempted, but made up her mind as she looked at Jack. "Thanks, but no. I really need to get over to Daniel's. Anyway, you two should catch up. Maybe another time, though." She waved slightly to both of them as she headed back to her car.

Jack and Justin looked after her as she went. "Wow. And you get to see her every day?"

"Well, it'd be a bit difficult to hold the team together if we didn't," said Jack, his exasperation threatening to show already. He turned towards his own car again, "Come on, let's go."

"Do you get to shower with her and stuff too?"

"Justin! Just get in the damn car, would you?"

***

Sam leant backwards in the steaming bath, enjoying the ebb of the water against her skin as it eased away the day's tensions. For a day off, it had been pretty hectic, mostly taken up with trying to sort Daniel out. Oh, and with locating Colonel O'Neill...

How strange that he had a brother he never spoke about. They didn't seem to be estranged in any way - distant, maybe, but then O'Neill had said they didn't get to see each other very often, so that was hardly surprising. Sam somehow found it weird that she didn't know about Justin, but then couldn't work out why that should be so. After all, she hadn't even known the Colonel had had his own family until Daniel told her about it six months after they all began working together. O'Neill just wasn't the sort to chat about his personal life, no matter how he had mellowed over the past few years.

Justin... He was amazingly like Jack, at least in the physical sense. Extremely good looking, in fact.

And he had been hitting on her.

Hmmm...What an interesting thought. A version of Jack O'Neill who seemed to smile a lot more, was interested in her and didn't have the trappings of rank. Why did that seem altogether too good to be true?

Sam sighed, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling. Because her life was complicated enough as it was, she reminded herself, without entertaining thoughts about pursuing her superior's younger brother.

Anyway, just because he looked like the Colonel didn't mean he would have his same qualities, and while that may be quite useful as far as some aspects of his personality, it would also be a damn shame.

Not that she was looking for a man like O'Neill. Why would she be?

The phone rang.

"Shit!" Sam exclaimed, trying to get out of the bath without slipping and cracking her head open. Grabbing a towel to throw around herself, she charged into the kitchen, and had to catch her breath before speaking into the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Is that Sam?" It was a male voice, somewhat confused from the sound of it. She didn't recognize it.

"Yes...who's this?"

"It's Justin O'Neill - we met in the park earlier today."

Justin?

"Oh...hi." Sam racked her brains for a clue as to why he was calling. "Can I help you?"

"Well," there was a laugh, "this is going to sound strange, but I wondered if you were free tonight?"

Huh?

"I have this conference to attend - a fundraising dinner - I thought perhaps you would like to join me. I have a spare ticket, and these things can be so boring..."

Oh.

"Ummm...Well..." Sam didn't have a clue what to say. Then suddenly an image of Justin flashed in front of her eyes, sun on his hair and eyes glinting.

"You'd be doing me a real favor, you know. I could ask Jack, but I'm not sure he has a evening dress, and anyway, he has this real problem with trees..."

Sam laughed at his wheedling, hearing some of the Colonel in the soft voice at the other end of the phone. "You know what? I'd love to. What time?"

"Great! Well, I've hired a car - how about I pick you up for around seven?"

Sam glanced at her watch: it was past four now. "Sure, I can do that. Do you have a pen and paper? I'll give you directions..."

She hung up a few minutes later, hand pausing on the telephone. A touch of something uneasy was lurking in the back of her mind, something like an instinct or a hunch urging her to be careful. Come on, she chided herself - what's the worst that can happen? He's O'Neill's brother, so you know he's got to be a nice guy. It's one evening - you're doing him a favor. This time tomorrow, he'll be gone again.

As she turned and made her way towards the stairs, Sam shook the apprehension from her shoulders. She could do with an evening out, it would be fun and there wasn't a reason in the world why Justin's invitation was inappropriate.

She was going, that was that, and she was going to have fun.

***

Sam stood in the center of her bedroom, eyeing her reflection in the mirror critically. Smoothing her hands over belly and hips, she turned around once, assessing the lines of the dress she had chosen. Not that there was a whole lot of choice available in her civilian wardrobe. It had been so long since she had seen herself in a skirt, let alone an evening dress - yet the feeling wasn't altogether an unpleasant one. Sam had never been one for frills and big skirts, but still, every now and then it was nice to see oneself in a different light.

The dress was simple, falling just above her knees, fitted and black. The neckline was flattering without revealing too much, running to a point between breasts that had temporarily been gathered into a Wonderbra. Sam usually avoided Gossard's invention like the plague, since to her it always felt as if she were wearing armor plating strapped to her chest. Tonight, though, she was in need of a slight confidence boost, and however liberated a woman Sam was, she wasn't at all averse to a little extra shape every now and then.

As a result of her rapid transformation since the surprise phone call two short hours ago, the woman who looked back at her from the mirror was a complete shock. Sam was always a terrible judge of her personal appearance, the result of spending far too much time in military fatigues. All she could do was hope that she looked at least presentable. From the brief description that Justin had given of the fundraiser, she had assumed it would be black-tie, and this was the closest she could get.

Applying her makeup, Sam began to feel the distinct flutter of nerves bubbling in her stomach. This multiplied as she realized that she was about to embark on her first date in...well, far too long. Her lipstick paused in mid-sweep as she remembered that the man who had broken her date drought was Colonel O'Neill's brother.

Jack's brother.

Sam frowned, and the woman opposite frowned back. She suddenly wondered if this was a terrible mistake. Dating your superior Officer's younger sibling had got to be a questionable proposition at the best of times, but in their situation?

She sighed heavily, finishing her lips and dropping the lipstick back in her makeup bag. Sam was so very tired of second guessing every move she made. Surely at her age she shouldn't have to be so cautious about making a simple date.

It was the ridiculous and sudden sense of guilt that galled her the most. What on earth did she have to feel guilty about? There were no promises between her and O'Neill - and any puerile 'understanding' that the two of them may have harbored at one point seemed utterly hopeless now. The war showed no signs of ending, and both of them had sunk themselves so thoroughly into their duties that for either of them to resign, particularly for so ignoble a reason, was unthinkable to both of them.

So, what did you do in the most important war in history, Sam? Oh, I fell in love and resigned my post...

Great.

Anyway, this was just a simple dinner - not even one-on-one, a fundraiser with hundreds of fellow diners in attendance. Then tomorrow, Justin would be gone again and her life would go back to the same old routine, the one where Sam was lonely and alone with no time and not much inclination to rectify the situation.

Her second sigh echoed away as the door bell rang. Glancing at her watch, Sam noticed that her date was early, and was still fastening the clasp on her necklace as she reached the door.

Opening it, she was greeted by a bunch of red roses and the smiling face of Justin O'Neill. Sam was taken aback, not just by the flowers (when was the last time anyone had bought her flowers?) but also by the undeniably handsome man clad in a very fetching tuxedo and standing on her (her!) doorstep.

"Sam! Hey, you look great!" Justin moved forward enthusiastically, pressing the roses into her hand and a brief kiss to her cheek.

"...umm...thanks.. And for the roses - they're beautiful. Come in, please." She ushered him into the house, waving at a passing neighbor who evidently found the spectacle of a man on her doorstep unusual. "You're early," she chided gently, shutting the door behind them.

"I know - I'm sorry, I was bored."

Sam laughed, offering him a seat as she went to find a vase for her flowers.

"Nice place," Justin observed, dropping on to the sofa and spreading his arms out in a gesture that instantly reminded Sam of his brother.

"Well, I like it. I'd probably like it even more if I actually spent some time here."

"Oh yeah. Well, that's the problem with Deep Space Radar Telemetry. It's just so damn time consuming, huh? One rarely has time for life outside the job, in fact..."

Sam reappeared from he kitchen to find her guest looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"Do I detect a hint of sarcasm, Mr. O'Neill?"

"Indeed you do, Miss Carter. I can call you 'Miss', right? To be honest, I find the whole military thing so tedious. Look, I know my brother, even if we don't see each other for long periods of time. So when he tells me that following the tragic death of his only child, he rejoined the Air Force to join their crack unit of Deep Space Radar Telemetrists...I know it's a load of rubbish. However, I know enough not to ask questions about it, so we'll leave it at that. What my knowledge does allow, however, is some pretty mean speculation about how you fit into the little scenario..."

Sam crossed the floor to sit opposite him, a broad smile on her face.

"Well, that would be classified too, so I shouldn't go speculating too wildly if I were you. It could land you in a lot of trouble."

"I have a feeling that being in trouble with you could lead to a lot of fun," Justin remarked, a twinkle in his eye.

"Or a lot of broken bones - and I don't mean mine," Sam laughed at his forthrightness.

"Well, we'll see. How about we just get through tonight, huh? With no military stuff lurking in the background, okay?"

Sam considered the challenge. It wasn't an easy one, in actual fact. Her whole life was the military, so much so that she wasn't at all sure where the division would come. Could she really lay it all down for one night and just be Sam for a change?

Well, she could give it a try.

***

The Hall where the Fundraiser was being held was pretty spectacular, an old colonial mansion right in the heart of Colorado Springs. Music played in the background of the brightly lit room, making the whole place seem airy. Justin led them to their seats around a large round table, laid up with elaborate cutlery.

"Make the most of this, Major," he whispered in her ear, courteously pushing her chair in as she sat down. "This'll be a far cry from military rations. Or Jack's cooking, whichever you consider to be worse."

The evening passed merrily, Justin's frequent jokes drifting into her ear throughout the worst speeches. He was attentive, Sam noted, listening to everything she said carefully and then continuing her train of thought. It was refreshing to have someone that actually took notice of what she was saying in a non-military capacity. Sam realized that the only people she really had conversations with that didn't involve MALP's or guns were Daniel, Janet and Cassie. She also realized with a start that she didn't really know what O'Neill thought about anything outside the tight constrains of SGC life.

"Am I boring you, Sam?" Justin was looking at her carefully as he forked a piece of dessert into his mouth.

"No!" She returned to the immediate with a start, realizing she had been daydreaming. About her date's brother...a guilty flush stained her cheeks for a second, "No, of course you aren't..."

"You just seemed miles away there for a moment," he continued with a smile, reaching over to pick up her spoon and capture a piece of chocolate cake from her plate. He held out the sweet encouragingly. "I don't want your hot fudge to go cold," he said, wiggling his eyebrows provocatively. Sam couldn't help laughing again. She ate the proffered cake with a smile.

"You are so much like your brother."

"I am?" Justin was nonplussed for a moment, looking at the spoon he had returned to her dish. "You mean Jack feeds you chocolate cake? Is that allowed?"

She nearly choked at the sudden image, covering her mouth with her hand.

"No," she gasped eventually, "That's not what I meant...."

Justin grinned at her, patting her casually on the back as she cleared her throat. "Didn't think so...on both counts...although I wouldn't blame the old boy for trying."

Sam couldn't help herself blushing, which annoyed her more than hearing her Colonel called 'old'.

"I bet he could beat you hands down, old or not," she challenged gallantly, without really understanding why she felt the sudden need to defend O'Neill from his younger brother.

"Oh, I'm quite sure he could - I've seen what he's capable of." Justin looked morose for a moment, before shaking his head with a smile.

"What does that mean?"

Justin looked at her for a moment, as if trying to assess to what extent he could trust her. "It's just...there are so many things in the world to save. So many things. But Jack always seemed better at killing them off. Or at least, that's the way he went when he joined up."

"The Colonel is a good man. He's an asset to the military - the best I've ever served with."

"I'm sure he is. But he shouldn't have gone back. When Charlie died...he shouldn't have gone back. He should have moved out to Yellowstone with me...he always said he wanted to fish more."

Sam smiled briefly, remembering O'Neill's many tales of fishing in Minnesota.

"We need him... He's doing an important job, Justin - believe me. He's saving things now. I promise you, he's saving things now."

Justin nodded, flicking a finger out over her wrist and smiling a sad smile. "I just wish he'd find something - someone to love. That probably sounds all happy-clappy...but of everyone I know, it's the most obvious in Jack. He's not alive if he hasn't got something to love, to live for. To defend."

"He has. He loves his job. And he's ok. Don't worry about him, Justin."

"Yeah, you're probably right. There was definitely something about him when we had coffee earlier - he was the same as when he first met Sara. Maybe he has got someone... Cagey, hiding something."

"Aren't we all?" Sam suddenly wanted to move the conversation on. She really wasn't up to hearing about O'Neill's love life. "Anyway, I thought we were going to keep out of all the military stuff? I don't want to talk about work - aren't you going to ask me to dance?" Sam indicated the area of the floor that had been cleared of tables. Several couples were heading towards it as the light lowered around them.

Justin beamed, standing and offering her a hand, "I would be delighted, fair lady, if you would do me the honor of letting me have this dance."

As they moved together gently, Sam thought about how nice it was to be held again - to be really held. No energy beings, no aliens, no agendas and no worries. Just a handsome man's arms around her. At the back of her mind, a dull ache had begun to develop. Did the Colonel really have someone? Is that what Justin had detected over coffee earlier in the day? That O'Neill had finally found a woman that wasn't beyond his reach to love? Her heart grew heavy, and without realizing it, she moved closer to Justin.

Sam was surprised by the pain she felt at the simple thought of O'Neill having a partner. She ran through all the things she had told herself earlier in the evening...no promises given...no understanding to uphold. It looked as if he had developed the same mode of thinking. Just be happy for him, part of her said. Just be happy.

Justin moved his hand on her back, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes with a smile. Sam found herself smiling back, with all the warmth she could muster, and rested her forehead on his chest as his hand reached up to caress the back of her neck.

Just be happy.

...Be happy.

***

Part Two - by Gunfodder

Next morning, Sam woke peaceful and was in her lab even earlier than usual. O'Neill found her there upon his arrival a couple of hours later, humming softly to herself as she fussed over the SGC's latest mechanical acquisition. The Major was oblivious to anything beyond her immediate task, and O'Neill paused for a moment, just watching her work before making his presence known. Her palpable happiness was soothing, and he couldn't help smiling himself.

"Something's put a smile on your face this morning, Major. "

Sam looked up with a force ten grin. Jack felt his heart catch absurdly at the sight, and crossed his arms across his chest as he leant against the doorframe.

He was startled to see something dark flash behind her eyes suddenly and she looked away almost immediately, the smile fading rapidly from her beautiful face. He was about to ask what was wrong when the phone rang shrilly, making them both jump. Sam went to answer it as he moved further into the lab.

"Yes, he's here...put it through." She turned around, holding out the receiver. "It's for you, Sir. An external call."

O'Neill felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. Who would be calling him at work? Everyone he knew was here...oh...right. He took the proffered telephone.

"Morning, Justin. You're up early." He was surprised again, this time by the look on Carter's face as she glanced up at the sound of his brother's name. "Well, process of elimination, really...yeah. What's up? I've got a briefing in a few minutes, so..."

As he spoke to Justin, Jack watched his Second in Command with naked curiosity. Sam had suddenly become a hive of activity, shuffling papers on her desk, fiddling with her computer...

"Bowling? Well, I guess... Ok, do that. I'll let you know later. Things have a habit of blowing up around here...Yeah. What?" Jack's voice tightened suddenly as he belatedly registered the last thing Justin has said. His brain seized up as the words streamed into his ear. "Yeah...she's here." Sam's eyes flashed up to his, and everything fell into place with a sickening thump. "Right. Hold on."

Jack thrust out the telephone towards Carter, their eyes locked. A flush stained her cheeks and suddenly all he could feel was a burning white pain in his stomach. When he spoke, his voice sounded dead, even to him.

"He wants to thank you for last night."

***

"You did what?"

"Don't look at me like that Janet," begged Sam miserably, slumped in a chair in front of the Doctor's desk. "Don't. Please. I've already had a terrible morning. The briefing was awful..."

Sam pressed the balls of her hands into her eyes, falling silent. The memory of O'Neill's monosyllabic answers thrown across the briefing table an hour ago surfaced in all their ugly glory. He wouldn't even look at her. Today's mission was going to be hell.

"Well what did you expect?" Janet asked softly. It was a good point, and the truth was Sam really didn't know. She hadn't thought that far ahead. Janet sighed, resting her chin on her hand and gazing at her distraught friend across the desk.

"Sam...honey...you know I love you. But this has got to be the most stupid situation you have ever put yourself in."

"I know...I know.."

"I mean - O'Neill's brother? What made you want to go?"

Sam took her hands away from her face and shrugged.

"I don't know - the call was so out of the blue, it took me by surprise. I was feeling a little low, I guess, and no one has shown the slightest bit f interest in me for a long time...and Justin seemed like fun..."

"You got that from the few brief moments you spoke in the park?"

"Well, yeah. He's a lot like Jack, and -" Sam stopped abruptly as Janet pushed herself back in her chair, nodding knowingly. "That's not why, Janet. God, I'm not that shallow!"

"I'm not suggesting you are, Sam But you mean to tell me that if Colonel O'Neill had been chatting to any other friend of his you'd never met who then called you up out of the blue for a date, you'd have said yes just as willingly?"

Sam paused before saying defiantly, "Why not?"

"Hmm...I know you, and I know you play things close to your chest, Sam. I'm not convinced. Tell me, in those hours you spent with Justin, you never once thought of Colonel O'Neill? You never compared them?"

"No, I - well, I noticed their mannerisms were alike a few times...but come on, I'm going to notice things like that! I -" Sam stopped again, shaking her head. She was determined not to accept that her reasons for dating Justin O'Neill were as shallow - or as shameful, even - as him sharing a physical likeness to the Colonel. "If you must know, I really enjoyed Justin's company. He's very interesting - well read, knowledgeable, passionate. He actually enjoys conversation, unlike Colonel O'Neill, and -"

"Hold on a minute, Sam." Janet interrupted her, standing up and walking around to lean against her desk beside Sam. "Just think about what you are saying. Here we have a guy that looks like O'Neill, is apparently as a good a man as O'Neill...but also pays attention to you...enjoys listening to what you have to say...and had both the inclination and the opportunity to ask you out. Am I right?"

"I guess." Sam sighed, knowing exactly where Janet's reasoning was leading.

"Could it be that Justin's arrival in town just happens to be fulfilling a few...shall we say...daydreams...that a certain Major may have been hiding in her subconscious?"

Sam stared moodily at the pile of patient reports on Janet's desk, turning over the possibilities in her mind. Was that really it? Had she just conveniently replaced the complications of O'Neill's character with his brother's more relaxed, unregulated demeanor? Surely not - she wouldn't do that! Still, the thought lurked uncomfortably in her mind.

"Janet, look. It was just one night. Nothing happened - he didn't even kiss me good night. As far as I know he's going back to California today, and I'll never see him again..."

"But what are you going to do about Colonel O'Neill? If you leave the situation as it is, it will permanently mar your working relationship. I don't suppose that Justin had any idea of the connection between you two?"

Sam snorted, bitterly amused by Janet's question. She couldn't even explain the connection she had with the Colonel to herself, let alone any one else. Sighing, she stood up. "I guess I'll have to talk to him somehow," she said, shaking her head, the absurdity of it all sinking on to her tense shoulders.

Still at the back of her mind, something hinted at her. She had genuinely enjoyed Justin's company - Sam had no doubt about that. And the thought that kept haunting her was:

Why not?

***

Jack stood in front of his locker, staring without sight into its sparse interior. He should not, strictly speaking, be here. It was only 0930 hrs after all - SG1's day hadn't even really started yet. Now was not the time to be taking a shower. For some reason that he didn't entirely understand, however, O'Neill had felt the compunction to drench himself in scalding hot water and scrub himself raw. Anyway, the day had been tough enough already. The thought of his early morning encounter with Carter made his stomach turn violently, while the subsequent briefing session remained a painful, featureless blur.

Now, his mind had settled somewhat. The shower had pounded much of the tension from his muscles, and he just felt weak, although Jack wasn't sure how much his physical depletion signified his deeper state of mind. To say that Jack's mind was quiet was a distinct understatement - in fact, he was drawing a complete blank in the higher thinking stakes. He kept rolling over and over the words that Justin had pumped into his ear, and then his brain would automatically visualize Carter's face contorting in the kind of pleasure he tortured himself would have produced her good spirits this morning.

It wasn't that he was angry with her. After all, he had been kind of preparing himself for a while - well, dreading, really - the moment that Carter finally found someone else. O'Neill just hadn't expected the guy to be quite so close to home. Or for it to hurt so damn much.

Should have known, he thought to himself dully, Justin always did go for exactly what he wanted. And he was checking out my phone. Looking up Carter's number, no doubt.

Burying his damp and cold-growing face in a towel he had pulled out of the black hole of his locker, Jack tried to drown out the images that flooded his unprotected brain. All those things he dreamed of for himself...

Eyes still squeezed shut, he slammed the locker door shut with a little more force than he intended. Pulling the towel away to check for tell-tale dents, he nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw Carter standing a few feet away, arms hanging limply at her sides. She looked apprehensive, wiping her hands on the pants of her BDU's as he regarded her.

When she didn't start speaking, O'Neill sighed tiredly and rubbed at his short hair with the towel. Maybe if he ignored her she'd go away.

"Sir, we have to talk about this."

"About what, Carter?"

"Come on, Sir, you know what I mean." Sam sounded a little impatient, which made his hackles rise. Why should she be upset? She was the one having all the fun...

"Do I, Major?" He carried on dressing.

"The 'phone call this morning."

"Is there something I should have noticed about it?"

Sam clucked her tongue in irritation. "Well, it's the reason the air is so cold in here right now, isn't it?"

" I don't know what you're talking about, Major. Now if you'll excuse me--"

"We just had dinner, Colonel. Your brother and I. He wanted company for the fundraiser."

"Right." O'Neill didn't look at her, continued almost as if he hadn't heard at all.

"Shit, Colonel! I didn't sleep with him, for god's sake! Is that what you think? Is that how much you think of me?"

Relief exploded in Jack's gut as Sam's angry words penetrated the fog around his brain. It was swiftly obliterated by his own particular brand of rage and stubborn pride. Was she pitying him? Heaven forbid!

"I'm sorry, Major - am I supposed to care? Go ahead and screw who you like, Carter. It's none of my business. I could probably suggest a few officers to you, if you want - you're quite the hit in this place, you know."

Sam's outraged silence wafted over his shoulders like radioactive fallout. Around them, the water pipes hissed and gurgled, and outside the insulation of the locker room Jack could suddenly hear the noises of the base going on as usual. Between them, though, the bitter cruelty of his words lingered, tearing into something he had held as the most precious thing in his life for some years.

They stood like that for a few moments, until Carter began to move towards the exit. O'Neill opened his locker again, tossing the towel back inside. As she reached the door, the Major turned again to say something and Jack looked up at her. Before her face slammed an icy mask down over her features, he saw indignation and hurt embattled with something terrifyingly akin to hatred flash across her face. His stomach turned again, this time with an aching nausea, but he said nothing, waiting for her to say her piece.

"I refuse to allow your puerile attitude to effect my work, Colonel. I do hope you can muster enough professionalism to prevent it from effecting yours."

He watched the door click shut behind her. This was sure going to be a fun day.

***

Half an hour later, it got a whole lot worse. The briefing that O'Neill had earlier spent most of the time ignoring was to discuss a short, six hour scouting trip to a planet which appeared to be rich in Naqueda deposits. Daniel, Teal'c and the Colonel were geared up and awaiting Carter's appearance in the gate room when Hammond arrived unexpectedly.

"General. What's up?"

"You three are going to have to manage this one by yourselves, gentlemen - Major Carter is going to be stuck in her lab for a few days, I'm afraid."

"Is that right?" O'Neill was immediately suspicious. Okay, so Carter enjoyed spending time in the lab - but she'd never willingly dropped out of a chance to travel through the gate because of it. A bad feeling began to bubble in his stomach for the tenth time that day.

"Is Sam ok?" Daniel asked, concerned.

"She's fine, Doctor Jackson, but it appears there is some kind of problem with the MALP. The Major doesn't feel happy leaving it to anyone else, so she has requested the job herself. Since your mission is unlikely to need her expertise, I saw no reason to refuse her request. That's if you are agreeable with that, Colonel?"

"No problem, General. I survived fine on my own before I met Carter -I'm sure I can manage it for a few hours now."

Daniel looked at him carefully as the General nodded and walked away.

"What?"

"Are you ok, Jack?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Is there something going on? Sam's never turned down gate travel before, has she?"

"Beats me what goes through her head," shrugged Jack, shouldering his pack and signaling to the observation deck for them to start dialing out. "But I'm sure we can manage without her for a day - even with you limping all the way."

Daniel nodded thoughtfully, following Jack up the ramp and through the gate.

***

Sam sat at her workbench, a pile of dismantled MALP parts in front of her. With her back to the door, she looked busy. But in reality her brain was miles away, working over problems that suddenly appeared far more pressing. Janet found her like this at midday as she was on her way to the cafeteria.

"Sam? Are you still at it? You want to take a break for something to eat?"

Sam looked up with a watery smile. "I'm not hungry, thanks."

Janet came closer, crossing her arms with a frown.

"Those MALP parts don't look as if they've moved an inch since the last time I stuck my head around your door. What's up?"

"Nothing, Janet. Why would anything be up?"

"What? Apart from the meltdown in your team this morning?" Janet made a face and grabbed the stool beside Sam's. "Come on, Sam. I know when there's something wrong. You never miss a chance to 'gate. This has something to do with Justin, doesn't it? Did you talk to the Colonel?"

Sam sighed, dropping the pieces of technology back on the bench. "Kind of. Well...not really...." She rubbed a hand across her face. "He was awful, Janet. I told him the truth and he acted like it made no difference. Practically called me a slut to my face."

"You're kidding?" Janet gaped at her friend, wide eyed. "He said that that?"

"As good as, Janet. Said that I could screw whoever I liked and offered to supply a few names that would be willing."

"That doesn't sound like Colonel O'Neill...that's bordering on sexual harassment!"

Sam shrugged. "What can I say? The guy's obviously a latent asshole. Maybe I'll take him up on his offer? I could do with a few nights of furious passion. It'd make me feel better."

"Sure about that?"

"Why not? Seems to be okay for guys to do it when they feel the need..." Sam sighed again, "Oh, I don't know. I've seen him angry before - just never at me, I guess. It just made me wonder why I was so bothered about what he thought in the first place. He obviously doesn't care what I do."

"If he didn't care, why would he act like such an ass?"

Sam shrugged. "If he *did* care, why would he act like such an ass?"

"Jealousy?" Janet suggested mildly.

"That's redic--"

"You're not going to see Justin again, are you?"

Sam looked away, frowning. And something that felt like broken trust turned her gaze cold. "I don't know. I think he's heading back to California tonight. But I've got his number..." She looked up, daring Janet to talk her out of it. "Maybe I'll give him a call? See what he's up to before his flight."

"Sam..." Janet's voice had a warning in it, but it was obvious worry that clouded the doctor's face.

"I had a lot of fun with Justin last night. What's wrong with a follow-up drink? Particularly since the person I was worried about doesn't seem to care about it anyway!" Having obviously made up her mind, Sam stood and pulled her jacket over her shoulders, heading for the door to her lab.

Sighing, Janet stood and followed her. She had a very bad feeling about this...

***

Sam sat at the bar, absently running a finger around the rim of her beer glass as she waited for Justin to return. It was quite late and the place was reasonably full, the soft hubbub of conversation billowing around her. The black mood that had haunted her for much of the day had lifted after a pleasant evening spent laughing with the younger O'Neill, and although she hadn't consumed a particularly copious amount of alcohol, Sam had to concede that her head was at least a little muzzy.

Looking up, she saw Justin wending his way back towards her from the men's room. Sam smiled as she caught his eye and indicated her glass to ask if he wanted a refill. He nodded and she turned back to order from the bar tender as Justin regained his seat beside her.

"You're a bad influence, Sam. It's a good thing the rental car went back today, or it would have cost me a fortune in taxi fares to collect it tomorrow morning!" Their shoulders brushed together companionably as Sam shrugged.

"Well, it's good to let your hair down once in a while," she argued, handing over a five dollar bill as their drinks were placed before them. "And as you may have realized, I don't get a whole lot of time for that."

"So it would seem - I was supposed to spend the evening with Jack, actually, but since he hadn't called me back, I figured I'd take you up on the offer of a drink instead."

"Ah - so I'm second choice, am I?"

"I wouldn't say that. Jack's loss is my gain. Although it's strange he didn't call to let me know that he couldn't make it. For all his faults, he's usually more reliable than that. One of the few bonuses of military training, I guess."

Sam frowned, "When was he supposed to call?"

"He said he'd give me a ring when his shift ended, which should have been..." Justin paused to look at his watch.

"The same time as me." Sam's brain began working overtime. She hadn't seen SG-1 after they were scheduled to return from their brief mission to P9X-526. But then, it wasn't as if she'd exactly gone looking for them. For once, Sam hadn't hung around the base once her duty shift ended, so she had probably left long before their buffer-time was up. If they'd been late returning and still within their allotted safety period, there was no reason that anyone would have thought to call her away from the lab.

But what if they hadn't returned at all? If it was so unusual for O'Neill not to call on schedule...

"Sam? Is there something I should know? You look worried. Look, if it's about Jack--"

"No, no, everything's fine," she tried to inject as much ease into her voice as possible while her heart began a swift decent into a well of concern, "if there was anything amiss, I would have been notified by now. No, it's just a stressful day catching up with me, that's all. Excuse me for a moment?"

"I must have started a trend," Justin quipped as Sam stood and headed for the ladies room, grabbing her purse as she went.

Once the door of the rest room had swung shut behind her, Sam pulled her cell phone hurriedly from her purse. She cursed as she realized it was dead. God knows how long it had been out - what if the SGC had been trying to contact her? With her phone out of action, no one knew where she was.

Sticking her head back into the bar, Sam saw with relief that Justin's attention was absorbed in conversation with the barman. Slipping out of the rest room as quietly as she could, Sam headed for the public pay phones.

It took a few minutes of frustrating formalities before she was identified and passed through to the SGC switchboard. As she waited her guilt mounted, coupled with an irrational fear that caused her gut to churn sourly. What if they hadn't made it back? What if they had needed her help and she hadn't been there for the team? What if.

Sam stopped herself with difficulty, pushing the fear down and forcing her rational side to take control. Don't be ridiculous, she told herself reasonably. It's just a missed telephone call. He was out of sorts today after this morning's fiasco... Anyway, it's not surprising he didn't want to talk to Justin. He'll have just forgotten. You're overreacting, and--

"Major Carter," Hammond's voice cut into her sharply. "Where the hell have you been?"

And a black hole opened up in her heart.

***

By the time she reached the base, Sam's head was about ready to implode. Hammond, obviously, hadn't been willing to divulge any information to her over the public telephone, but simply ordered her to return to duty as soon as possible. It was slightly humiliating to have to explain that she was well over the drink-drive limit and certainly wouldn't be officially fit for service. Of course, there was no real reason that she should feel this way: she was, after all, off duty. To Sam, though, it was like willingly admitting to some sort of personal weakness. Hammond's concerns were evidently elsewhere, however, a fact that caused her even more anxiety as she tried to make sure she was back home before the car the General was sending out to collect her arrived on her doorstep.

Her hurried departure from the bar was probably going to cause problems with Justin later - despite the arranged telephone call courtesy of Hammond that was waiting for her even as she returned to his side, his suspicions had been raised at her earlier reaction to his news of the Colonel's silence. After all, for all their distance, Justin was still the Colonel's brother and it wouldn't take him long to figure out that the older O'Neill sibling was incommunicado. Nevertheless, Sam was more worried about the current status of her team than about security.

The Major practically ran through the corridors of Cheyenne Mountain, punching the elevator buttons with impatience as she descended lower and lower into the depths of the installation. Reaching level 28, Sam's heart sank as the doors swished open to the steady, penetrating sirens of full alert status. Heading straight for the control room, she saw Janet hurrying along the route in front of her.

"Janet! What's going on, do you know? Is it SG-1?" Rather than forcing her evidently rushed friend to wait for her, Sam speeded up until she met Janet's pace.

"Sam! They've been trying to reach you for hours! Where were you?"

"Not home - my phone battery went dead and I didn't realize. What is it? They came back, right?"

"You'd better see Hammond first, Sam."

"Janet! Don't make me wait. Tell me they're safe, damn it!"

Janet stopped, breathing heavily as she turned to face Carter. "I'm sorry, Sam. Daniel made it back through almost in one piece, but Teal'c and the Colonel are gone." The doctor reached out and squeezed Sam's arm firmly, without allowing the professional look on her face to fail for a moment. "I have to go, I have some tests back from Daniel's exam."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"They're gone, Sam. The Goa'uld attacked. Daniel made it through but only because he was close to the gate and he's cut up pretty bad. I'm sorry, Sam, but you know the score."

Sam nodded dumbly, and then watched Janet begin to run again. She knew the score all right. Two soldiers against a Goa'uld attack force? The chances certainly erred on the worst side of bad. But then, SG-1 had been there before, right? Picking up her pace again, she headed for the control room, where Hammond stood glowering at the Stargate as Siler read out various readings from a screen.

"Major Carter reporting for duty, sir." She snapped to attention swiftly as the big man turned to witness her entrance.

"Major, I'm glad you're here. Come into the briefing room, I'll fill you in." Carter followed, noting the dejected slope to the older man's shoulders.

As the briefing room door shut behind her, Sam could feel the tension mount in the air. Through the window onto the gate room, she could see the frantic activity as several science teams worked on the gate. Two of the Chevrons smoked mournfully, remnants of whatever incident had caused all this uproar. Sam turned as the General began to speak.

"First of all, Major, I must apologize for my abrupt manner earlier. These few hours have been very fraught, as I'm sure you can understand, and having one of my finest officers go missing into the bargain was a little too much."

"I should apologize, sir - I really didn't realize my phone was out, or I would have taken steps to ensure you knew where I was. But General, please -"

"The situation is as follows, major. SG-1 were, as you know, on a routine survey mission. Apparently, they were not the only ones interested in the properties of the planet. They were attacked, as far as Doctor Jackson knows, by Jaffa under the control of an unknown Goa'uld. Jackson made it through, thanks to his broken ankle - he hadn't left the vicinity of the DHD. However, shortly after he came through the event horizon, the gate suffered a massive bombardment. Ours, as you can see, took enough damage to put it out of action for at least a few hours, so..."

"So God only knows what condition the other gate is in," Sam finished, voice remaining still over the quaking of her throat.

"Yes. And from the size of the attack force...well, you know what the odds are, major. Colonel O'Neill's good, but he's not Superman."

Sam didn't say anything, just stared out at the smoldering gate with a dull ache in her chest. Vainly she tried to think of the positives, of their chances, of fluke occurrences....but all her mind would allow her to think was 'he left angry at you, and now he's...gone.'

"I have to join the teams working on the gate, General."

"Of course, Major, you're dismissed." As she reached the door, the General's voice stopped her. "Major...I know how difficult this is for you and Doctor Jackson. I wish there was something more we could do."

Cater didn't turn, just nodded slightly and slipped out of the room before her eyes had a chance to betray her with tears.

***

Part Three - by Sally Reeve

Footsteps crunched in the dry leaves, mere inches from where Jack lay hidden in a shallow dip of earth behind a large, fallen tree. Dirt and dead leaves covered him, and he held his breath as the Jaffa patrol stopped.

He could see nothing more than their shoes, and dared not move to see more. Their leader barked something that was obvious as a command in any language, and his men moved off. Spreading out. Searching. Shit.

Teal'c was hidden a little behind him in the trees, but Jack knew that their cover was feeble and wouldn't bare close inspection. His P-90 lay awkwardly beneath him, but his fingers gripped it in readiness.

God, he'd have to breath soon. His lungs were burning for air.

More footsteps. Closer. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to any god who would listen. Don't let them find me, don't let them--

Apparently no gods were listening.

The butt of a staff weapon jabbed into his back. Shit. With a swift movement he flipped onto his back and squeezed the trigger. The Jaffa went down, and Jack was on his feet and running before the man hit the ground. Behind him he heard more shouts, and then a tree ahead of him exploded with a staff blast. The force staggered him, but he kept on running. Something hot and sticky trickled into his eyes and he realized that he was bleeding, although he felt no pain.

The staff blasts were closer now, and more frequent. Shit! He sprinted forward, adrenaline pushing him beyond his limits. Teal'c was around somewhere; he hoped he'd have the sense to keep hidden. On and on he ran, his lungs that had once burned for air now screaming with the effort of sucking in breath after breath as his heart hammered in his chest.

Mud rained over his back as a blast detonated at his heels, the force sending him stumbling forward. But he regained his momentum and kept going. It wouldn't end like this. It wouldn't.

Ahead of him he abruptly saw a cliff, rearing up through the trees. Its face was pockmarked with holes - caves. If he could just make it in there, perhaps he could lose them in the darkness? Hope spurred him on, faster and faster. But his breath was increasingly ragged, his feet stumbling over the branches and rocks on the forest floor. He could make it. He knew he could. If he could only...

Fire!

It burned through his arm, ripping a scream from his throat. Vivid, blood-red pain closed like a veil over his eyes as he felt himself falling. The stench of burned fabric and flesh filled his nostrils, and he dimly realized it was his own. No! NO! Not like this, not like this.

And then: "O'NEILL!"

The voice bellowed out of the darkness. Over his head streaked the blast of a staff weapon, once, twice, three times. He sensed someone above him, standing guard as he lay immobilized on the ground. Red turned to gray and gray to black. He was falling out of the world, sinking down into oblivion. And as he went, the only thing he could see in the darkness was a face. Her face. Her hurt, accusatory, beautiful face. And then there was nothing.

***

Sam felt frustratingly useless. They didn't need her. Siler had given her a look that was laced with sympathy, but assured her that he'd have the gate up and running in no more than three hours and there was nothing she could do to speed the process. There was nothing for her to figure out, no acts of technological heroism for her to perform. Nothing for her to do but wait.

She hated it.

Pacing her lab, she ran over the events of the morning in her head. Justin's call, the look of hurt and shock in O'Neill's eyes as he'd handed her the phone, his cold, nasty temper later in the locker room. His hurtful, cruel words. Her own anger - the flash of hatred born of sour disappointment.

And then, unforgivably, her single moment of disloyalty. The one time in five years that she'd put herself before the team. The one and only time. She'd passed up the mission, partly to spite him and partly because she couldn't bare the thought of his icy, barbed comments digging at her all day. She'd let them go out there without her to watch their backs. She'd allowed her hurt to guide her, and now they were gone. And her last words to him had been spoken in anger.

She kicked out angrily at her chair, sending it skittering across the room. Her team had been under attack, and she'd been sipping drinks in a bar! She knew the odds, she knew that if they weren't dead they were...something worse than dead. And it was her fault. If she'd been there...

Guilt bit sharply and she could have screamed with the anger and frustration welling up inside. If only she'd been there. If only--

The phone rang, its shrill tone jarring into her thoughts. She snatched it up. "Carter."

"Sam, it's Janet," came the calm voice. "I thought you'd want to know that Daniel is okay to have visitors."

Nodding dumbly at the phone, Sam managed to mutter. "Right. Thanks. I'll be right there." But she put the phone down with a sick sense of dread. Daniel. After the way she'd let down SG-1, how could she ever face him?

***

Colonel O'Neill was not a light man. Nonetheless, Teal'c moved swiftly and gracefully through the trees towards the promised haven of caverns ahead, with O'Neill slung over his shoulder. The Jaffa patrol had been relatively small, although the battle had been protracted. But he knew that more were on the way, for he had been unable to prevent the runner from breaking away from the group and heading back towards the Stargate.

The fact that the planet's pale sun was setting would aid their subterfuge, and Teal'c hoped that the Jaffa did not understand who they pursued. If they knew that the infamous Shol'va and the Colonel O'Neill, of Earth, were their prey then they would not relent in their pursuit. But these Jaffa seemed inexperienced and young, their markings unfamiliar. It was a slender hope, but one that he hoped would prove accurate.

At last he was free of the trees, and despite the weight of his friend, Teal'c forced himself into a run as he crossed the dangerous open space between the woods and the cliff. But no staff blasts followed him, and soon he had ducked into the cool comfort of the dank cave. Carefully, he lowered O'Neill to the ground. They had to move further into what Teal'c hoped was an extensive warren of caves, but first he needed to treat O'Neill's injury. The staff blast had caught him in the left arm, opening a sizeable wound. Teal'c pulled the emergency medical kit from his vest and applied a dressing. It was only as he tightened the bandage around O'Neill's arm that he noticed the slightly odd angle of the bones and realized that the blast had shattered more than flesh.

He didn't grimace. He had seen far worse. But he counted it a blessing that O'Neill was still unconscious as he strapped the arm close to the man's chest, not daring to do more for fear of doing more harm than good. What was clear, he realized grimly, was that O'Neill required medical attention. And soon.

Crouching before him, Teal'c tapped him gently on the cheek. "O'Neill," he called. "Colonel O'Neill. We must leave."

A soft groan. Eyes fluttered. "Teal'c.?"

"It is I."

O'Neill blinked, and tried to sit up. "Where's Carter.? Argh!"

"Lay still," Teal'c advised, a restraining hand on O'Neill's shoulder. "You were hit by a staff weapon. Your arm is broken."

Laying his head back on the rocky ground, O'Neill rubbed his good hand over his face. "Feels like it," he muttered. "Carter," he said again, sounding vague. "Is she...?"

"She did not accompany us on this mission," Teal'c reminded him. "And Daniel Jackson returned through the Stargate before it was attacked."

O'Neill was nodding now. "Right," he muttered. "I remember." His hand dropped from his face, and an odd look of sadness lingered in his eyes. "Guess it's a good job Carter didn't come after all."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Her assistance would have been welcome."

"Yeah," O'Neill grimaced, forcing himself upright. "Well - she had better things to do."

It was impossible not to miss the bitterness in O'Neill's voice, but Teal'c had no desire to query his friend's meaning. Besides, there were more important matters at hand. "Are you able to walk?" he asked. "We must move further into the caves before the Jaffa return."

"Nothin' wrong with my legs," O'Neill replied, struggling to his feet. He paused, "Is there?"

"There is not," Teal'c assured him.

Once upright, O'Neill wobbled for a moment before reaching out with his good arm and bracing himself against the wall. "Lost some blood, huh?"

Teal'c nodded. "I can carry you if you are unable to walk."

O'Neill fixed him with a steely look. "I can walk."

"Then we must go," Teal'c told him, pulling his flashlight from his vest. He whipped it around the cavern and soon saw a narrow passage leading back into the rock. "I shall lead the way," he announced, and O'Neill made no objection.

In silence they moved out, darkness and evasion the only things between themselves and the coming enemy.

***

Sam wore her guilt like a coat of lead, and Daniel could see its weight on her shoulders the moment she stepped into the infirmary. Her eyes were wide and haunted, and she moved towards him with an unusual hesitancy. He knew exactly what she was feeling; he'd known her for five long years. And so the first thing he said was, "Even if you'd been with us there was nothing you could have done."

His words stopped her. "What happened?"

Daniel let his head sink back into the pillow and closed his eyes. He knew nothing but absolute truth would satisfy her. "About half a kilometer from the gate Jack and Teal'c ran straight into a Jaffa patrol. Must have been there for the same reason we were. Jack radioed in as he was hightailing it back to the gate, I dialed up but..." He sighed, opened his eyes and looked right at her. "They had Deathgliders and...big guns. The works." Nodding ruefully at his broken ankle, he added, "I wasn't far from the gate, and when Jack saw the Deathgliders he ordered me to leave. I waited as long as I could, I saw Teal'c and Jack running for the gate before I left, but--"

He stopped and Sam looked away, her brow creasing. "But they didn't make it."
 

"No."

"General Hammond said something happened to the gate after you left," she said then, turning as she always did to the technological problems rather than the personal.

Daniel nodded. "Pretty heavy bombardment. Must have discharged a lot of energy into the wormhole to do the damage it did our end."

But Sam was shaking her head. "It doesn't make any sense," she said, coming closer to his bed. "Why would they risk damaging the Stargate? It's their only way home."

"Unless they had a ship in orbit," he suggested quietly. "The Deathgliders had to have come from somewhere."

He could almost see Sam's heart hit her toes. "A ship," she repeated softly. "Of course."

"And destroying the Stargate would keep rivals from the planet."

Sam nodded. "Yeah." She closed her eyes, fingers gripping the metal rails along the edge of his bed. Knuckles turning white. "Daniel," she breathed, with such grief that he felt tears choke his throat.

"I know," he whispered brokenly, reaching out a hand to cover hers. "I know."

***

The only things that were real during the long, dark night of endless passageways were the steady beam of Teal'c's flashlight and the constant pain in his arm. Everything else was illusion.

Carter. Nervous, a touch impatient. "Sir, we have to talk about this."

"About what, Carter?" Bitter. Oh, so bitter.

"Come on, sir, you know what I mean."

Their last conversation went around and around inside his head. At the time it had felt as though something was breaking, the words as cutting as a priceless vase shattering on the floor.

"Come on , sir, you know what I mean."

He had, of course. What she'd meant was the fact that she'd spent the night - or at least the evening - in the company of his oh-so-charming younger brother. He didn't even know why he was surprised; Justin saw something he wanted and he went for it. Always had done. But Carter...? He didn't have her pegged as vindictive, but if she'd tried to hurt him she couldn't have done a better job. Justin! Of all people.

Oh yeah, she'd hurt him. The pain was with him now, not as immediate but infinitely more profound than the fire and ice of his damaged arm. She'd hurt him. But that hadn't given him the right to say what he'd said. Damn it, but in the darkness of the caverns all he could see was the indignation and hurt in her eyes; the shock of betrayal. And an anger so close to hatred that it frightened him.

"Go ahead and screw who you like, Carter. It's none of my business. I could probably suggest a few officers to you, if you want..."

The words were branded into his head, as unwelcome as Teal'c's emblem of Apophis and far more shameful. Had he really said that? Had he really said that to Carter? To the woman he valued above all others? To the woman who's good opinion of him was the most important thing in his life?

Of course he had. It was what he did. Sara had certainly felt the sharp edge of his tongue more than once; it almost seemed that the more he felt for a person the more he pushed them away. In the end he'd pushed Sara right away, for good. And he'd probably done as much to Carter.

Unbidden into his mind came images of Justin and Sam together. They were images of fantasy, as painful as his own imagination could make them: smiling, kissing, loving. A wedding. Kids. Uncle Jack. God, no!

"O'Neill?" Teal'c stopped ahead of him and turned around.

Jack blinked in the darkness and shook his head to clear the vivid visions. "What?"

"You cried out," Teal'c told him.

"I did?"

Teal'c stepped closer and placed a cool hand on Jack's forehead. "Fever," he pronounced.

"I'm fine. Let's keep going and--"

"I believe we are as safe as possible," Teal'c replied, shining his wrist-light around the passageway. "This will suffice as a place of rest."

"Hey!" Jack protested as Teal'c began to push him gently towards the ground. "Who's in command here?"

Teal'c made no answer, simply fixed him with an incontrovertible look.

"Right," Jack muttered. "That's what I thought."

***

Sam was trembling as she stood in the control room. Not so much that anyone else would notice, but inside the core of her being she was quivering with dread anticipation. Next to her, General Hammond nodded towards Lieutenant Fredrickson.

"Dial it up, son," he said, his calm voice belying the tension that stretched the atmosphere in the room almost to breaking point.

The gate seemed to move in slow motion as it span, each chevron taking an age to engage and lock. And with each beat of her heart, Sam willed it to work. She had to get there. She had to be where they were, discover the truth for herself. See the bodies.

She shook that thought away. Not bodies. Not that.

"Chevron seven, engaged." At last! "Chevron seven, locked."

Relief was transitory. Something was wrong. It was obvious by the lackluster splash-back that struggled into the room. The event horizon shimmered and shivered half-heartedly for a long moment, but failed to stabilize. And in a sputter of light, it winked out of existence.

"What the hell was that?" Hammond demanded.

Lieutenant Fredrickson was scanning the data before him, but Sam understood instinctively. "The gate on P9X -526 is damaged," she told him numbly. "We can't establish a wormhole. We can't go back for them."

***

Teal'c allowed O'Neill to rest for three hours, before rousing him. So far there were no sounds of pursuit, no echoes in the dark caves. But his warrior's instinct told him to keep moving. Their only chance of survival lay in concealment.

"O'Neill," he called softly, shaking the man's shoulder where he lay motionless on the floor. "It is time to continue."

O'Neill's eyes flashed open, glittering in the glow of Teal'c's flashlight. "What happened?"

"You slept," Teal'c replied, offering him half a ration bar. "Eat this and we shall continue."

One-handed, O'Neill struggled upright, grimacing as he jostled his arm. "Not hungry," he muttered. "Thirsty though."

Water was sparse in the caves, which were dry as a bone. Teal'c reached for the canteen at his side. "Drink sparingly," he told his friend. "Our supplies are limited."

O'Neill gave a nod of understanding. Of all the members of his team, O'Neill's mind was closest to Teal'c's own way of thinking. Despite the apparent differences in their characters, in matters of importance they were as brothers. "They coming after us?" O'Neill asked then, handing the canteen back to Teal'c.

"I am unsure," he replied. "I have heard nothing while you rested."

"Seems kinda odd, don't you think?" O'Neill replied. "They gave up kinda easily."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "It is possible that we are of little concern to the Goa'uld on this planet."

"I guess," O'Neill replied, although he didn't sound convinced. Then, with a grunt of effort, he hauled himself upright. In the baleful glare of the flashlight he looked pale. His injury was severe, and a lesser man might have complained. But not O'Neill. Teal'c admired his stoicism.

Returning the uneaten ration bar to his pocket, Teal'c also stood. "With luck," he said, "we should be able to return to the Stargate under the cover of dark."

O'Neill just nodded, tugging his cap onto his head. "Sure we will."

***

"What do you mean, there's nothing we can do?" Daniel said as he lowered himself into the chair before Hammond's desk. "There has to be something!"

Sam looked anguished as she shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "But there isn't."

Looking from her to the grim-faced General Hammond, Daniel slumped back. "But the gate is still there. Right?"

"But it's not working," Sam explained for the hundredth time. "I don't know how, but it's as if the gate on P9X -526 has been depolarized. It's impossible to establish a connection." She frowned, searching for a simple way to explain it. "It's like a magnet that's been demagnetized. It won't stick. And we can't fix it from this end, because we can't connect to it."

Leaning forward, Daniel sank his head into his hands. "Okay," he muttered through his fingers, "we've been here before. There's *always* a way."

"Not this time." Sam's voice was very quiet, clipped. She was holding everything inside. He could see it in the tight set of her jaw and the ache behind her eyes.

General Hammond cleared his throat. "I've already sent a message to the Tok'ra," he said. "I'm sure they'll do what they can."

When it came to the Tok'ra, Daniel was only marginally less suspicious than Jack. "How long?" he asked, resting his chin on his hands.

"Until they reply?"

He shook his head. "Until a ship can reach P9X -526?"

Abruptly Sam stood up, moving to gaze out the window. Hammond's eyes followed her, his face creasing with a sadness that Daniel understood. This was hard on all of them, but especially Sam. She was the one they all expected to 'fix' it. She w