TITLE: ACCIDENTS WILL HAPPEN. EPISODE 1.

AUTHOR: BARBS

EMAIL: barbssg1@yahoo.com

RATING: NC17 -- WARNING –EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT!!! IF YOU'RE NOT LEGALLY OF AN AGE TO DO IT, PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T READ IT! I'M A MOM MYSELF AND I DON'T WANT ANY GUILT-RIDDEN SLEEPLESS NIGHTS!

SUMMARY: SAFE MISSIONS AREN'T ALWAYS SAFE; ACCIDENTS AREN'T ALWAYS UNPLEASANT

SPOILERS: NOTHING SERIOUS

ARCHIVE: SAM AND JACK,SJNC17, OTHERS PLEASE ASK.

DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING THAT MAKES MONEY BELONGS TO MGM, GEKKO AND LOTS OF OTHER FOLK MUCH MORE IMPORTANT THAN ME. ONLY THE LOVE IS MINE, AND THAT IS FREE.

FILE SIZE: 134KB

SEASON: FIVE-ISH, DURING DANIEL'S TIME.

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"What d'ya mean, run out of addresses? I thought Daniel said on Abydos that there were thousands of Stargate addresses. I know you've done a few without me, but even so, we haven't covered thousands yet! What's the problem, Carter, lost your address book?"

He wasn't really angry; I knew that well enough, but to listen to him yelling, and to watch him pacing, was enough to make any outsider fairly intimidated.

"I'm sure Major Carter is not personally responsible for this hold- up, Colonel, and that she is doing her best to expedite the situation," said General Hammond in my defence, not that I actually needed his help dealing with Colonel O'Neill. I knew exactly where his weak spots lay.

"If you remember Daniel's words on Abydos that clearly, sir, you will also remember the conversation we had regarding interplanetary shift, and the necessary factoring in of the Doppler effect. We have already explored and /or mapped all the Stargate worlds nearest to ours. The farther into the galaxy we reach, the greater the degree of shift, so the computers have to calculate exponentially…."

"STOP already! I give in. No more gating for a couple of weeks! That's all I needed to know" and O'Neill sat down wearing his sulky little boy face.

He'd surrendered earlier than I'd expected; I generally reckoned to be able to use at least three 6-syllable words before he begged for mercy. I loved that sulky expression, it made me smile that an all- grown-up USAF hero could look so like a spoilt child. But then, I suppose, I loved all his expressions, from the grim-faced, ready-for- anything CO one right through to the "ha, ha, got you again" one when a Daniel- targeted practical joke came off just right. I was still waiting (and hoping, and, truth to tell, longing) for the expression which said "Sam, honey, I can't live without you, come to me, and let me ravish you senseless," but I was darn ready for it should it ever light that handsome face.

Hammond's voice brought me back to reality, even though I only caught half of what he said. "……will be an invaluable exercise for both of you, and it will be of benefit to the trainees to see such highly-ranked and well-respected officers as yourselves taking an interest! You ship out tomorrow at 08.00. Dismissed!"

I glanced sideways at O'Neill, wondering how I could cover the fact that I hadn't been paying attention. I didn't really want to admit that the thought of him ravishing me took precedence over ANYTHING General Hammond could ever say. A little feminine guile was called for. "So what's your opinion of our little jaunt, sir?"

"British Columbia is damn cold at this time of year, and if I'd wanted to be an instructor, I'd have asked! Still, if Hammond thinks we should go, who am I to argue?"

And so, at 08.00 the next morning, the grumpy Colonel and I were ferried up to a very remote and very classified part of B.C. to watch rookies put through their paces. The only worthwhile thing about the trip from his point of view was that he got to fly the C-27J. The only worthwhile thing from my point of view was that I got to watch him enjoying himself. The Spartan was a lumbering beast that normally flew like a camel, but in Jack O'Neill's hands, it pranced and cavorted through the sky, and landed like a butterfly on a rose.

We were paraded in front of the SGC rookies who made suitable noises of admiration and respect, and then taken to our accommodation, a shared tent!

"I hope this is OK, Major, Colonel, space is rather at a premium here. I could turn somebody out …." huffed the florid-faced Quartermaster.

"No need, thank you, we're quite used to sharing on missions," I said, before the Colonel could open his mouth.

"Fine, good," the old guy huffed again, and we dumped our gear and followed him round the walk through, mess hall, sanitary block, medical post, comms room, armoury, lecture theater, all very grand titles for a collection of tents of all shapes and sizes. The camp was home to about sixty men and women, all early twenties, all shining with health and energy, and all the very best of their classes. Some were pilots, some were soldiers, some were scientists, linguists or anthropologists, but they were all united by a common ambition, to step through that event horizon to other worlds. Not all would make it, they knew that as well as we did, but the ones who did would live through experiences way beyond human knowledge, as well as facing some of the most terrifying enemies their imaginations could find for them.

We were allocated a small office (that looked a lot like a tent) and the CO of Camp Horizon, Lieutenant-Colonel Des Wells joined us to explain what he hoped our visit would achieve. "These guys are keen, but they need a reality check. They're hung up on the idea of space exploration without rockets, of boldly going to infinity and beyond, but war with the Goa'uld, and technological exploration, seems to be passing them by"

"Talking at them won't help, Des," said Jack. "The only way they'll learn is to see and to do. That's pretty much how we had to do it."

"Agreed, sir, but every bit of intel they can glean must be useful, surely?"

"Oh, yeah!" said Jack mischievously – I waited, knowing what was to come – "and don't call me Shirley!"

Lt. Col. Wells looked puzzled, both at Jack's remark and my hysteria; he obviously was not a big fan of `Airplane.'

"I have an itinerary for you both, though of course you can amend it as you see fit. I'll leave you to read it through, and perhaps you'll let me know of any changes you wish to implement or further requirements you may have. My command post is directly under the flag."

Wells left us and Colonel O'Neill sighed heavily. "The reason his office has to be under the flag is that he's got the flagpole so far up his ass it's keeping his cap on!"

"A little humourless," I said in my best Teal'c manner.

"Indeed!" said Jack, smiling now, "Let's see what this itinerary has to offer!"

It seemed to be the usual sort of Boot camp stuff, navigational exercises, timed marches, battle simulations, all very worthy. Apparently we could join in, or just observe, as the fancy took us. Oh, and Colonel Jack O'Neill was to give an address to all present on "An appreciation of the Stargate programme and the SGC's place in today's Air Force."

The Colonel's reaction to that announcement was not for tender ears! I felt a change that we might be wanting to implement! Fortunately I was saved from any further colourful descriptions of Wells' scheduling by the bugle calling "Come to the Cookhouse," so we washed up and joined the rest of the camp at dinner.

Considering how far they were from civilization, Camp Horizon did themselves pretty well. The Spartan came in weekly with supplies, and the meal was actually recognisable as beef stew, thick and savoury, with mashed potatoes. When the dessert turned out to be apple and cinnamon pie, I could almost see the Colonel writing out his transfer request. Perhaps this mission wouldn't be too tough after all.

After two cups of very good coffee, Colonel O'Neill got up and stretched, "Fancy a stroll before lights out, Carter, settle the stomach and all that?"

It seemed an odd suggestion, but that's what he did best, so I followed him outside to explore his hidden agenda.

"Get your cap from your gear – cover your hair, it'll show up like a beacon in this moonlight!"

I did as he asked, surprised he'd ever noticed my hair, and returned to find he'd put his cap on too.

"What's up, sir?" I asked quietly.

"We're going to explore the camp perimeter, Carter, and see how many of these fine young people we can kill."

We stood back to back as we had done so many times before, and surveyed the terrain. I suddenly found myself wondering why I could feel the warmth of his hip against mine, and realised it was because we carried no weapons or packs. It was a lovely feeling, if a little distracting. I reached back and touched his wrist gently, "There, sir." I had spotted the area where the shadows lay thickest and our departure from the parade ground would be least noticed

"Good, well done, let's go."

We ambled across the dusty square, and almost without even me seeing, the Colonel just seeped away into the darkness. I followed quickly and we made our way through the rows of tents to the perimeter line.

"The guard posts are more than 100 yards apart, it's too far, they're not in direct visual contact with each other, but they do have radios. They're armed, but under orders not to fire without permission! I suppose they have to talk any ambushes to death instead."

"With respect, sir, they all know they're in a classified area. This isn't a real combat situation for them."

"But isn't that exactly the point, Carter? If they can't hack it when their lives aren't on the line, how will they cope when it is? You don't get the chance to rehearse real life – you just do it!"

"So what's the plan?"

"We see how close we can get to them, note their weaknesses, then we can sharpen them up a little."

We slipped quietly over the line and followed it out towards the nearest guard post. We could clearly see the two sentries outlined against the fire they had lit to ward off the evening chill; didn't they know enough to keep any light source between them and the probable direction of attack? They were sitting ducks with their backs to us. The fire crackled and spat, they must have built it with damp wood, and the noise helped to mask our approach as the Colonel tapped the young Lieutenant on the back and said "Bang, you're dead!" I was leaning over the shoulder of the other sentry, a young man of Asiatic appearance, and stilled his hand as he reached to his radio.

"Gentlemen, consider yourselves casualties of war. We will spare you the indignity of being bound and gagged, but you are honour bound not to contact anyone regarding this attack until you have my clearance! Understood?"

Receiving two rather subdued "Yes, sirs," we moved on. The next pair were doing without the dangerous luxury of a fire, but had bundled themselves up in blankets to keep warm. By the time they had unravelled themselves, Colonel O'Neill was half way through his `no contact' speech, and we moved on, leaving another embarrassed pair of sentries.

The third pair were embarrassed enough before the Colonel started the speech. The more senior officer of the two was a raven-haired Captain, about 24 years old, and about 38-24-36.The lieutenant was a slightly younger man, but looked like he had the edge in experience, at least in terms of tonsil-hockey! Colonel O'Neill opened his mouth to ream them out about Frat. Regs, then took a long hard look at me and went quiet and thoughtful for a moment. Then he delivered the `no radios' lecture and we moved on again. I so wanted to ask him about his change of heart, but silence was necessary for our mission to be successful, and we crept on to Post 4.

The colonel's clenched fist signal stopped me in plenty of time to observe the next post. The two sentries there looked alert enough, no fire, no blankets and no Frat. Regs violations, so we needed a diversion. Colonel O'Neill stood in front of me and laid a finger on his lips for continued silence. I nodded, trusting him implicitly, as always. He reached out and took off my cap, ruffling both his warm strong hands through my hair, and then stepping back to consider the effect. Nodding in satisfaction, he closed in again and very cautiously unbuttoned my tunic at the neck, pulling the collar apart a little. He must have noticed earlier that I wasn't wearing a t- shirt.

Stepping back for another assessment, he put out his hand to the third button, and got a slapped wrist for his trouble; we didn't need that much of a diversion! However he still wasn't quite satisfied, and while I stood staring at him in the moonlight, he moved in close under my guard, and kissed me long and slow! Moving away again, he turned me in the direction he wanted me to go, and with quick signals, gave me my instructions.

In a complete fog of bewilderment, I moved around the small encampment to the far side of the post, stepped forward where the two sentries could see me clearly, and with arms akimbo and one hip thrust forward, purred "Hi, guys!" They were suckered in like a dream, and Colonel O'Neill could have landed a division of Marines by helicopter without them noticing! As it was, he prowled up behind them, `stabbed' them both in the back with his pen, and said softly "Don't ever expect your opponents to play fair. Thank you, Carter!"

I rebuttoned my tunic, still heated and bemused, and we moved on. We had a little trouble with Post 5, and actually had to get our hands dirty. The two young men there were alert and confident, saw us coming, but made the wrong tactical choice in taking us on before getting a warning off, and once we were sitting on their backs, they had lost the opportunity.

The last post had decided to split their watch, one sleeping, one waking. The only problem with that was that the waking sentry was sleeping too, and the Colonel satisfied himself by stealing their weapons and tent before returning to camp.

There was still a light on in Wells' command post, so we explained our evening's activities to him. He was not best pleased!!

"With respect, Colonel' I do not consider this a fair test of my officers' capabilities. They were not warned that this exercise was to take place, and with your Special Forces training, and many years experience, it was hardly an equal contest!"

Oh dear! I was so glad it was not going to be me on the receiving end of what was to come!

"Yes, of course, Wells, I should have thought of that! When we're out in the field, off-world, any hostiles always give us at least 48 hours notice of a planned attack. The Goa'uld are particularly scrupulous about fair play! And of course, we exchange sit-reps of each other's capabilities to ensure a fair fight! War is not fair, Colonel, and your people have to learn that very quickly if they are to have any chance of surviving!"

Lt.Col.Wells was purple in the face, but could not argue. I was still waiting for my Colonel to reveal the Frat. Regs incident, but he just about-faced and marched me back to our palatial shared quarters.

"That man is not only an ass-hole, he's a dangerous ass-hole. He's allowing complacency to take hold here, and that's not going to keep these youngsters alive!"

"Perhaps that's why General Hammond sent us up here, sir, to tighten things up a little?"

I wanted to add "and why did you kiss me back there?" but the question seemed glued to the back of my throat.

Colonel O'Neill checked his watch "It's nearly lights out – if you want to turn in first, I'll make myself scarce for a while." Of course, off-world it was more often than not a case of boots off and flake out. Here we could afford the luxury of undressing and being relatively comfortable. I visited the sanitary block (large tent!) and then stripped off my BDU, fetching out my t-shirt to sleep in. The comfort of a camp bed was unheard of off-world, and I snuggled down in my sleeping bag as the bugler blew `lights out'.

I felt rather than saw or heard the Colonel re-enter the tent, but I could smell fresh coffee as he sat down next to me. "Carter, you awake?"

"Just about, sir."

"I brought you a coffee, if it won't keep you up."

"Thank you, sir, that's very thoughtful,"

The coffee was strong and sweet, just the way I liked it, and its warmth went right through me. It was a good feeling, sharing a moment with him like this, with no danger from anywhere.

"If you'd care to avert your maidenly gaze for just a moment, Carter, I'll get ready to turn in."

I closed my eyes and buried my nose in my coffee mug, but as I heard various items of clothing being discarded, the temptation to take a peek and to inhale his citrus-musk cologne was almost overwhelming! God, how I loved that man! What had I ever done to deserve such exquisite torture, to have him next to me in t-shirt and boxers (yes, I did peek!) and not be able to touch, to feel or even to tell him!

He slid into his sleeping bag, head pillowed on muscular forearms, and wished me Goodnight. The lights went out throughout the camp, and I lay listening to his breathing, waiting for the change to a deep steady rhythm that would tell me he slept. Instead he fidgeted! He tossed and turned, shook his pillow, unzipped his sleeping bag and then zipped it up again, before starting the tossing and turning again.

"Is something wrong, sir?" I asked.

"This bed is too damned comfortable – I can't sleep like this." With that he got out of his sleeping bag, pulled his entire bedroll off the camp bed and collapsed the canvas and metal into a heap, shoving it out through the tent flap. Shaking out his bedroll again, he climbed back into his down-filled bag with a contented sigh and began to settle down. I closed my eyes too, but within minutes it was me doing the fidgeting. He was right; these beds were just too comfortable for camp life.

"Was I right or was I right?" came his voice out of the darkness, as I too shoved my collapsed bed out of the tent. The bedroll felt so much more familiar and reassuring, particularly with his warm body and rhythmic breathing right alongside me.

"May I ask you something, sir?" thinking now or never, and easier now when I couldn't see his face.

"Sure, whatever."

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Oh, that, well, erm, I thought you'd be more of a distraction if you had that, erm, sort of, you know, just kissed look. You know?"

"So it was a tactical ploy and nothing more, it had nothing whatsoever to do with you wanting to kiss me?"

"Yes! No! Pardon? Of course not! Well, maybe a little! Well,no,actually quite a lot! Oh, Hell, Sam, I've wanted to kiss you like that for years! I just couldn't think of an excuse until now!"

"You could just have asked!"

"Oh, sure! Here's the duty roster for next month, Major, oh, and while I'm here, may I kiss you please? I think not!"

"OK, so skip the part about the duty roster and try again,"

I was amazed at the way this conversation was going, but I wasn't about to head it off. Everything seemed so much easier to say in the safe darkness of Camp Horizon, as if it wasn't part of the real world at all.

"You mean, just say, may I kiss you, Major? May I kiss you, Sam?"

"Yes, Jack."

"So, is that, yes, that's right, or yes, I can kiss you?"

"Jack, will you please stop gibbering and kiss me, here, now, immediately, forthwith, at once and without any further delay. Is that clear enough? Do you copy?"

"Roger that!"

He said nothing else, but I felt a warm, strong hand curl gently round my neck and draw me slightly forward. The scent of that musky cologne grew stronger, and then his firm lips were on mine, not demanding, not forcing, but just tasting, as though feeling the way in a mist. I reached out to hold him, and he rolled closer, breaking the connection between our mouths for a moment. I sighed in protest, and his mouth was back, this time firmer and yet more mobile, playing with my lips and demanding access to my mouth. This I granted willingly, and felt his tongue stroke the length of mine, and then dance back to play with my lips once more. Damn, he was good at this!

"Jack," I sighed his name on a long exhalation, and felt his arms close around me, drawing me ever closer to him.

"So," he said very, very anxiously, "What happens now?"

I opened my eyes to stare at him in amazement, but of course could see nothing but his outline in the darkness. "I'm sorry?"

"What happens now? Where do we go from here?"

For a moment, I didn't understand. Did he want me to draw him diagrams, or perhaps read him passages from the Kama Sutra? His hands on my back were shaking, his breathing was ragged and his voice husky with strain, so what else did he need to know?

Then, in a flash, I DID understand. He needed me to tell him that it was OK; that I knew what risks we were taking, and was prepared to carry on. This loving, chivalrous, stupid man was giving me the get- out clause he thought I might need. Oh,yeah, did I need it NOT!

Freeing my arms from my sleeping bag, I first unzipped his and then mine. With a lot of pushing and pulling, I rearranged them so that one was on top of us and one underneath us. "OK, Colonel, I'll tell you what happens next. First we get naked, by whatever means you feel is most suitable. Then we're going to make love! It's going to be wild, passionate, frenzied, sensual, prolonged, ecstatic and unbelievably erotic, but above all, it's going to be very, very quiet, because all that separates us from all those guys out there is one layer of Tencate!"

He chuckled in the darkness and I could feel the tension draining out of him. His touch became more sure as he lifted the hem of my t- shirt, and his breathing, though quickened, was steadier. He coaxed the shirt over my head and pushed it behind me, then took my hands to the bottom of his, so that I could return the favour. I pushed my palms up his abdomen and across his chest to his shoulders, and he squirmed out of the shirt, leaving it on the pillow.

I thought he would immediately take off my briefs and get down to the nitty-gritty, but he had other ideas. He pulled me over on top of him and held my head, kissing me lovingly, and then eased me back just a little so that he could hold my breasts. He held them so, so gently, and then as my nipples stiffened, he took them in his mouth, sucking on them to draw them out still further. I felt like crying with the exquisite agony of it, and bit my lip hard to keep the cry inside. When both my nipples were hard and moist, Jack took them between his fingers and joined them with his own smaller ones, rubbing them around together between his long, strong fingers and causing bolts of erotic lightning to course down my body. His breathing quickened still further. Keeping up the friction on our joined nipples, he growled, "Take them off!" in my ear. It was not easy, because he did not want to let me go, but eventually I wriggled out of my briefs and kicked them aside. "Now mine!" growling again. I had never heard his voice this way before, resonant with a mixture of love and lust, and I hurried to obey. This time he had to let me go, but as I slung his boxers the way of my briefs, he took my shoulders and rolled me over, looking down at me with passion-darkened eyes

"How?" he asked urgently, "Come on, Sam, how?"

I was stunned by his consideration; despite the desperation of his own need, he wanted to make sure I was pleasured as I liked best.

"Finger me, Jack, get those beautiful fingers inside of me. Do it to me with your fingers first."

I could feel him smiling; this obviously suited him as well! His right hand trickled slowly down my body, pinching a little here and there, before settling in my pubic hair and combing through gently. Stopping only a second, it crept lower, and wonderfully agile fingers spread me apart. My legs followed of their own volition, leaving me literally wide open to his gentling assault. I gasped as he began rubbing and stroking with care, never too hard, always hard enough, and then gasped again, deeper and louder as he found my G-spot as though directed by GPS. I felt his chuckle ripple through his chest as he lay against me, and he dipped his head to mine, murmuring "Sssh!"

"Can I touch you?" I gasped

"Not wise! Much as I would love you to, if you did, we wouldn't have a lot of time for anything else, if you catch my drift."

This time it was my turn to chuckle, but not for long, as those incredible fingers went back to work.

"Oh Jack, that is so good" I sobbed, biting his shoulder gently to stifle my ecstasy.

His hand stilled for a moment and I wriggled in protest, trying to get that one fingertip back where it belonged.He bent over me again, and tugged my earlobe between his teeth. "You know what I would really, really like to do now?" he whispered.

I shook my head; I'd already gone beyond words.

"I'd really like to put this," laying his tongue against my face, "Where that is!" moving his finger a little. "Is that OK?"

Just the thought of him going down on me was almost enough to bring me to orgasm. I nodded vigorously and felt that rumble of laughter again as he moved down my body and slid his hands under my butt, to lift my slit to his waiting mouth. If I thought his fingering was good, his tonguing was Masters standard. It was just a pity I couldn't enjoy it for longer, but within a few seconds of him insinuating that gorgeous supple tongue into me, I came with a vengeance, like nothing I had ever experienced before! I grabbed Jack's arms, pulling him back up my body and then reached for him, desperate to have him inside me.

I heard Jack say something, but couldn't spare the time to interpret the sounds. I took possession of that so- powerful erection, locking my ankles behind his back to prevent escape. Jack only hesitated for a moment, and then stroked into me, every pulse going from tip to base and back, driving his rigid shaft up through my centre. The cords of muscle across his shoulders stood out as he strained to fill me.

"Not long now, Sam, not long." he groaned, as if in apology.

I stroked his head and held his shaking arms. "Do it now, Jack, let it go, please, come with me!"

As if my words were the trigger, he threw his head back, biting his lip to stifle the cry that would otherwise have erupted. I felt the torrent of his seed wash through me and came again, crying and laughing his name, kissing his face, neck, arms, anywhere I could reach as he collapsed against me and lay helpless and sated in my arms. I could have lain there forever, locked away from reality, but after a while, breathing became a little difficult.

"Jack, you'll have to move a bit, I can't breathe."

He murmured an apology and rolled over, but still kept me in his arms.

"What do we about cleaning up—mosey across to the sanitary block like this? I asked.

Jack reached behind him and grabbed his t-shirt. "I don't mind sacrificing a t-shirt in a noble cause."

I patted myself dry and then lovingly performed the same service for him, wiping him clean while he lay with a gentle smile on his face.

"Oh, by the way, what was it you said earlier? I heard you speak, but I don't think my ears were in touch with my brain at the time." Yet again that low chuckle rumbled through him. " It's not really relevant now. I was asking about protection!"

"Well, we both know we're not carrying anything contagious – Janet would have found it long ago. As for pregnancy, Jan doesn't think that's an option – something about Jolinar's protein marker!"

"Geez, I'm sorry, I didn't know!" He hugged me a little tighter and genuine distress showed in his face.

"Why should you know? It doesn't affect my operational capabilities." This was a prickly subject for me, and I spoke sharply.

Sick hurt showed on his face. "You know that wasn't how I meant it! I thought we'd put aside the military thing for a while. I'm sorry for Sam the woman, it must be tough for you, knowing something like that."

For a guy who normally found emotions so hard to deal with, this was a real opening –up. I supposed he might see a parallel somewhere between me losing any opportunity to have a child, and him losing the child he'd had. Whatever, his sympathy and distress were real, and I hated myself for having hurt him. I drew his head to mine and kissed him tenderly. "I'm sorry, Jack, you took me a little unawares. When you don't have a sex-life, not being able to conceive isn't really much of an issue."

"Yeah, well, now you have, so next time we'll just have to be a little more careful!"

"So when's that likely to be?" I teased, drawing my fingernails lightly across his stomach.

"Tomorrow at the very soonest. Don't forget, I'm an elderly Colonel! Reveille will be at 06.30, shall we get some sleep?"

I've never hated any stranger as much as I hated that bugler! I woke to find that during sleep we had rearranged ourselves, and Jack's head was now pillowed on the curve between my shoulder and breast. He was awake, but looked so content that it felt like a crime against humanity to disturb him.

"Good Morning." I whispered, and tilted his face for an early- morning kiss. The feel of his stubbly cheek against mine was unbelievably erotic, and the kiss lasted a lot longer than it should have done.

"I guess that answers my next question," he said, stretching luxuriously.

I raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Any regrets?"

I laughed, "None, except for how we're going to arrange things back home."

"Hah! Don't forget what good old Des called my "Special Forces training and years of experience." Covert Ops. are my specialty. Come on. We don't want to be put on a charge for being late for breakfast!"

The meal was a fairly relaxed affair. Each of the 6 man teams sat together, and Col. Wells used the time as an informal briefing and feedback session, both commenting on the previous day's performances and setting them up for the day to come. He obviously had a good rapport with his young Command, and communicated well enough, but his approach lacked drive and energy, and I could see Jack itching to speak. Wells' attitude seemed to be ` there, there, dears, never mind, everything will be OK' whereas Jack was always prepared for the dark side, accepting any good breaks as a pleasant bonus.

As the meal ended, Wells detailed the assignments for the day, and passed us the printed list. Reading it through, Jack asked, "What do you fancy, Major?"

Way under my breath I replied, "You, buck naked on a bearskin rug!" and out loud I said, "Search and retrieval with Team Delta, sir?"

Jack flexed his right knee carefully, "Yep, that sounds good, particularly as there'll be six fit guys to carry me if this knee gives way!"

He was nearly right! Team Delta was 4 guys and 2 women, one of them, the ranking officer, being our raven-haired tonsil-hockey player from the previous night. Captain Francesca Russo was stunningly attractive, and I didn't care to imagine how hard she had to work to be taken seriously in this man's Air force. Her opponent in the tonsil-hockey match, Lieutenant Matthew Mason (were his parents crazy, or did they just have a weird sense of humour?) couldn't look Jack in the eye.

"At ease, son! I never eat lieutenants so soon after breakfast, they give me gas!"

The other lieutenant was the other woman. Alicia Franklyn was, to put it bluntly, not attractive. Her body was square and rather squat, her complexion poor, and the only kind thing that could be said about her hair was that it stayed faithful to her head. Fate had obviously been in a really spiteful mood when it put her in a team with Russo. I felt glad that we would be working with her today, since Jack O'Neill was one of the few people I knew who genuinely took no notice of outward appearances. He saw the person inside and judged solely on their merits, not what they looked like. He gave Franklyn a friendly grin, and the poor girl was lost.

"And what's your specialty, Lieutenant?"

"Weaponry and armaments, Colonel, sir!" Even her voice was ugly, high-pitched and scratchy.

"Ah, a woman after my own heart --- one for real warfare, not this geeky computerised techno-crap!"

"I suppose so, sir!" Franklyn had become so instantly besotted that if Jack had told her that the moon was green and the Goa'uld travelled with the Tooth Fairy, she would have agreed.

The other three guys were Hellman, Sanchez and Bright, all 2nd Lieutenants

"Sounds like a law firm!" said Jack.

All three smiled obediently, if a little warily. I still wasn't sure that Team Delta was ready for Jack O'Neill!

"OK, Captain,er,Russo!" said Jack, checking his notes, "I believe you have the mission briefing. How about you outline the situation for us?"

"Yes, sir!" barked Russo like an overanxious Rottweiler. "Our objective is to retrieve a small amount of naquadah from a Goa'uld storage facility approximately ten clicks northwest of this point, sir. Along our course, there are eight small explosive devices which must be located and made safe, sir. We have the details of these devices, and must determine the best equipment to draw from stores to detect and defuse them, sir!"

Jack held up his hand to interrupt her machine-gun -like delivery, and made a big show of checking his notes. "Whoa there, Captain. I see from the intel I have been given that your team's complement of the word `sir' for today is, erm, 12. Between you and Franklyn, you've already used up half, and we haven't moved out yet. How about leaving some for the other guys?"

I had to turn away and hide a grin as Russo worked this out. "Oh, yes, si.. Colonel, thank you!"

"My pleasure, Captain, please continue."

"There are caps on the devices, and for our mission to be deemed successful, we must return with all eight caps and the naquadah. That's all, Colonel O'Neill."

"No, Russo, it isn't. For your mission to be successful in my eyes, there is one further item you must return with." said Jack, suddenly very serious.

All six members of Team Delta scanned intently through their briefing notes. No one spoke and all looked puzzled. Finally Russo said, "With respect, sir, I don't think so! Our primary objective is the naquadah, and the secondary is the explosive. The briefing notes mention nothing else."

"For your mission to be truly successful, Captain, you must return with all your team, preferably intact. This is one of the SGC's prime directives – no one gets left behind! You've been briefed on the possibility of Jaffa resistance – bear that in mind! Now, carry on!"

A slightly shame-faced Russo started giving orders. Hellman and Sanchez were the terrain experts, and went off to draw what equipment they thought we would need to reach our target. Bright was the comms guy, and went for radios.

"Bring us a couple, Lieutenant." I called as he strode away.

"Yes, Ma'am!" came the prompt reply, at which Jack growled "Oh, well, it makes a change from sir!" Russo was the group's tactician, and Mason's area of expertise (apart from making out with his CO) was explosives. It would be his job to make safe the devices and retrieve the caps. Franklyn was poring over the schematic of the devices, with Jack looking over her shoulder. The lieutenant frowned and shook her head a little.

"Problem?" I asked, looking at the plan, and seeing nothing that should prove difficult to anyone with even the most basic knowledge of physics.

"No, ma'am, on the contrary, it's too easy!"

Jack looked at the plan with me. "Oh, yeah, pitifully obvious. Anyone's gonna see that straight away – what is it?"

Franklyn replied before I could – it was weird to watch someone else deliver the technobabble."The devices are designed to emit a faint electro-magnetic pulse, sir. All we need is an E.M. detector, nothing could be easier."

"Good, Franklyn, well done! Go to!"

She trotted off towards the armoury, her plain face glowing in the reflection of his praise.

"She'll be rolling over to have her tummy tickled, soon." I said quietly.

"There's only one tummy round here I'm interested in, Major, and it ain't Franklyn's." he replied, the expression on his face making my insides go all peculiar.

The team came back from their scavenger hunt and equipment was shared out. Jack was obviously pleased that they had remembered the basics like water and energy bars, and also that someone had done enough research to equip him with a P90, even if it did only fire blanks. He checked the weapon thoroughly before slinging it on his hip, and then took his cap out of his pocket.

"Whenever you're ready, Captain."

"Do you wish to be part of the tactical formation, sir?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't think so. I think Major Carter and I will just mosey along at the back, and watch what happens. Just keep us apprised of anything interesting!"

Russo deployed Franklyn and Hellman at point and Sanchez and Mason on the flanks, with herself and Bright taking the six. I could see Jack mentally awarding her good marks. It made sense to have a map- man leading, and the E.M detector had to be out in front where it was needed most. Mason had to be close to defuse the devices Franklyn found, and in keeping Bright at the rear and with her, Russo was protecting her line of communication. Not bad.

I had gone back to our tent briefly and fetched my own little EMP detector. I knew that it was way more sensitive than anything the USAF could offer Franklyn, and a little edge never did any harm in the field. Team Delta moved out of camp at a sensible pace, and before we were over the perimeter line my EMPD quivered.

"Anything?" asked Jack.

"Not sure, sir. It may just be collecting residuals from the camp equipment. On the other hand, there's nothing in the rules to say these things have to be miles away, is there?"

As we moved forward in Delta's wake, the signal grew stronger.

"Franklyn must be picking it up on her clockwork gizmo by now!"

Sure enough, we saw a halt sign go up, and heard the radio conversation. Franklyn was sure her trace was genuine; Russo was reluctant to believe it would be so close to their starting point. As we watched and listened, they all gathered in a huddle to debate the issue, all clustered round Franklyn and her EMPD, and all trying to interpret the results.

"Oh,crap!" sighed Jack, and thumbed down his radio button. "Team Delta leader, this is Sierra Golf One-niner. The EMP is discharging from a piece of Goa'uld technology just to the left of your present position. It was left as a lure by a 12 strong Jaffa raiding party who have just wiped out your entire team as you played pass the parcel with Franklyn's EM doohickey. Shall we try again?"

"Yes, sir, thank you."

This time, as they gathered, the four men formed a defensive cordon as Russo and Franklyn checked out the EMPD. Satisfied that it was a genuine reading, Mason successfully located and defused the device, slipping the all-important cap into his pocket. The second one went easily enough too, though he did have to get his hands dirty digging it out from its hiding place. The route itself went reasonably well too, though once or twice I could tell that Jack would rather have been on higher ground. Some of the paths Hellman and Sanchez chosen were overhung by rocky outcrops and would not have been easy to defend. I could see the notes being written on the highly efficient O'Neill mental laptop.

As we neared the base of another small cliff, the path opened out into a clearing. My EMPD had been trembling for a while, and I knew the next device must be close. Franklyn at last spoke up. "We have another device close by, Captain. I'll need to sweep the clearing."

Russo rearranged the team to give protection and Franklyn began her sweep. The area was pronounced clear of hostiles and Russo gave the welcome command to Hellman to light a fire and brew some coffee. Franklyn's sweep had placed the device at the cliff, but none of them could spot it.

"Oh, there!" said Franklyn suddenly, pointing upwards. About 25 feet up the sheer face was a darker patch on the rock, obviously a small hole where the device had been secreted, so not only did it have to be defused, first they had to reach it. Jack and I sat together drinking coffee, while they contemplated everything from a human pyramid to C4'ing the rock. There was no way round to the top of the cliff, so even though there was a tree you could use as an anchorage for an abseil rope, it was no use if you couldn't get there. Eventually Russo decided to use all the resources available to her. "Any ideas, Colonel O'Neill?"

"Do you have enough rope to reach round the tree and back?"

"Yes, more than enough, but…"

"But nothin', watch and learn!"

Jack rifled through his pack to find a smooth angled piece of wood, with a tiny hole in the centre of the leading edge. Next he delved through another pouch to come up with a reel of light fishing line, which he tossed to me.

"Guys, I need to know how high that cliff is!"

Hellman and Sanchez set to with their instruments and soon came back with the answer.

"Right! Carter, I need twice that plus twenty feet spooled off that reel and free, and I need the rest on the reel free-running in case we've underestimated. Go!"

Jack took the free end of the line and tied it tightly through the hole in his piece of wood, while I measured off the free line he needed against the span of my arms. Team Delta sat on the ground watching like children at a Punch and Judy show. Standing back from the base of the rocks, Jack looked up and measured the distance again. He rubbed the wood between his hands, almost as though developing a rapport with it, and then with a sharp flick of his wrist, sent it singing into the air, towing its cargo of fishing line.

This time I was as amazed as Team Delta as the small wooden boomerang swept round the tree at the top of the cliff and spun lightly back to Jack's left hand, humming like a bee in flight. We all burst into a spontaneous round of applause, and Jack bowed deeply before declaring "And for my next trick, I shall require the assistance of a young lady from the audience! Captain Russo, the rope, if you please!"

He cut the line at the reel, and joined the heavier rope to it firmly, and then untying the line from the boomerang, he re-threaded it onto the reel. Winding gently, he pulled the heavier rope up and around the tree, and secured it to another tree at the side of the clearing.

"There you go, kids! Playtime! Can you climb, Mason?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Then you go up the cliff, find somewhere you can rest your feet, defuse the doohickey and collect your little red button. The rest of us, meanwhile, will sit and drink coffee, and make disparaging remarks about your progress."

"OK,sir,I can live with that."

I felt a moment's anxiety as Mason tied himself on to the rope. Although as the bomb expert, he was the logical choice, he certainly wasn't the lightest among us, and the tree did not look all that strong. Still I had trusted Jack's judgement in much worse circumstances than these, and there was little to go wrong. I knew that Team Delta had all done their parachute training, and even if Mason did fall, a 25foot drop onto grass wouldn't kill him if he remembered his emergency drills. He was certainly an able climber, and made quick progress to the hole, giving us a thumbs-up to indicate the bomb was there and getting straight to work defusing it.

"Anyone want more coffee?" asked Franklyn, getting up to go back towards the fire.

Jack reached out his mug, "Please, but I'll have to make room for it first," gesturing towards the bushes on the far side. Franklyn blushed crimson as they walked across the clearing together, and I smiled, remembering the early days when he had been able to make me blush like that. We had come so far since then, and now, after last night, a whole new life was opening up in front of us.

So what happens when you get smug and complacent?

It took me days to get clear in my mind the next sequence of events, either because everything happened so fast, or because my mind just didn't want to accept the reality of what I witnessed, but I had to get it right for the Board of Enquiry, and this is how it went.

Matt Mason seemed to be having a little difficulty getting at the device, and hauled up on the rope to get a bit of extra height. There was a very sharp crack as the tree split and started to topple. On its own, it would not have been too bad, but its dry, groping root system brought away a huge piece of the cliff edge, which bounced down towards the clearing. Mason landed heavily and the tree trunk followed him down, falling across his mid-section with a sound I can still hear today.

We leapt up to go to him but Franklyn's scream transfixed us. She was right in the path of the falling rock, and like a rabbit caught in car headlamps, she was paralysed with fright. I saw Jack come out of the bushes and weigh up the situation with the speed of a hyper drive. If he had stood still, done nothing, Franklyn would have died, a promising young officer whose career would never have come to fulfilment. I knew that wasn't how it was going to be, and shoved my knuckles into my mouth to stop myself screaming his name!

He nearly made it! He oh so nearly made it! His flying dive knocked Franklyn right out of harm's way, with no more than a sprained ankle and some gravel rash to show for her adventures. And Jack? My Jack? My heroic, selfless, stupid beyond measure Jack? The rock caught him as he landed, only a glancing blow, sure, but even a love-tap from a rock that size was going to hurt!

As Russo and the others went to Mason, I went to Jack alone. He was conscious, but very, very pale, breathing with some difficulty, and was obviously not going to stay conscious for very long. His left leg, his so-called good leg, was bent at an unnatural angle at the knee, and he was bleeding heavily from a deep gash across his hairline. All in all, it did not look good.

"Franklyn?" he asked, weakly.

"She's fine, sir, you got her clear." She was sitting in the middle of the clearing howling like an air-raid siren, but she was alive.

"Good." He tried to nod and smile, but suddenly it looked like he'd forgotten how.

"Carter," he began again, and I had to bend lower to hear his words "I love you! Get them home!"

I caught my breath as he passed out "I love you too, Colonel!"

Mason was dead. The tree must have caused internal injuries on a massive scale. It took a while for the Med-Evac helicopter to get to us, but Jack hung on, as if determined to get a free ride. I had done what I could for him, stemming the blood from his head wound, but I didn't touch the leg. Memories of Antarctica were still far too fresh, and I couldn't cause him that much pain again.

The Med-Evac team didn't worry too much about pain relief or setting the leg either. They checked his eyes and his vital signs, scooped him on to a stretcher and away so fast I didn't even have time to ask where they were taking him. They didn't bother about Mason either, saying that a vehicle was already on its way to pick us all up, but they did leave us a body-bag! Between the six of us, we managed to clear away the tree trunk and bag the corpse. That way, at least, we didn't have to look at him.

Franklyn had stopped screaming, and was now deathly quiet, and deathly pale. Only the wracking shaking of her body showed she was still alive. Russo and the law firm were also in shock, but at least they could still walk and talk. I just felt cold, sort of dead on the inside, but I had to get these kids home – nobody gets left behind!

"Russo, look after Franklyn. Try to get her warm; you'll need thermal blankets and weak hot coffee if she'll take it. Have some yourself! Bright, you keep radio comm. with the camp and the transport. Talk them in if necessary. I want them here sooner rather than later. Hellman and Sanchez, build up the fire and keep it going. The warmth will help the shock, the flames will keep away animals and the smoke will make us easier to find. Oh, make sure you rake away an adequate firebreak; we don't want to be responsible for a forest fire! And keep the coffee coming. I want you all to eat your energy ration – no arguments!"

I set an example by drinking a mugful of coffee and eating my ration. It was like trying to chew a sponge, but I got it down eventually. The remains of Team Delta went about their tasks mechanically, but glad to have something to do. I kept watch over Mason's body, and let my heart fly with the Med-Evac chopper, wherever it was!

The promised transport seemed to take forever to reach us, but as soon as we could hear its low-pitched engine growling up the trail, I set the team to extinguishing the fire thoroughly and packing up their gear. I took responsibility for Jack's stuff, knowing how particular he was about having everything packed away ready for the next time he'd use it ---- if there was ever going to be a next time.

Lt. Col. Wells had come with the rescue truck himself and took me on one side straight away. "You'd better have a damned good explanation for this little episode, Major. None of my people have ever so much as broken a limb up to now; you and O'Neill arrive and within twenty four hours I've got one boy dead and the rest of the team deeply traumatized."

"With respect, sir, that's COLONEL O'Neill to you, and if he hadn't been here, you would have been two people down. No one else reacted quickly enough to save Franklyn, and Colonel O'Neill himself is gravely injured. Do you know where they have taken him?"

"No, and at present I don't really care. No matter what your status at the SGC, Major, I still outrank you, and you'll keep a civil tongue in your head. Now, let's get these kids out of here to where they can get some real help."

I so wanted to tell him that I'd hike home, that I wouldn't ride in a truck with him if it was the last one leaving hell, but I needed to find out how Jack was, so after we'd respectfully loaded Mason's body, and stowed our gear, I climbed in with the others for the miserable journey back to Camp Horizon.

I was down from the cab before the truck had stopped, and went straight for the Comms. tent. "What's the news on the Med-Evac flight? Where have they taken Colonel O'Neill?"

The radio operator looked about twelve years old. "No news yet, Ma'am. They just said there was no point touching down here, he needed to be taken direct to a suitable facility. I suppose that'll mean Vancouver or maybe Seattle."

"Don't suppose, airman, find out! Now!" My ferocity surprised even me, and the look on the poor guy's face told me I'd gone way over the top, but I had no future until I knew what had happened to Jack. I jumped at the touch on my sleeve. Francesca Russo stood behind me, huge dark shadows bluing her eyes, and tears very close.

"Major, come to the Medical Centre, you're as shocked as the rest of us."

As we walked across the camp, she said "Colonel O'Neill didn't say anything to Col. Wells about me and Matt!" It was a statement, not a question.

"No, he didn't, and I won't."

"And that's because you're in the same situation yourselves," she said perceptively.

I dropped my head, and couldn't answer because of the huge stopper of grief closing my throat. Russo put her hand on my sleeve again. "It was in his eyes every time he looked at you, even when he was giving orders, his eyes kept telling you he loved you."

I sniffed and nodded "I wish I knew where he was, and how he's doing. Not knowing is worse than anything!"

She nodded back, and I remembered that she knew exactly where her lover was. I turned to her, and in the middle of the camp, sisters in grief, we wrapped our arms around each other and wept.

Horizon's CMO was about as different from Janet Fraizer as he could be. About six feet six tall, and black, with deep brown eyes like Jack's behind gold-rimmed glasses, he shared only one quality with Janet, a fierce determination to do the very best for those in his care, even if they didn't like it much.

Franklyn was already in bed and sedated, her sprained ankle in an elevation cradle and covered in cold packs. The gravel rash did nothing to improve her unlovely appearance, especially as it had been cleaned and dressed with some off-white gunk, but she was indisputably alive. The law firm was in an adjoining bay, all checked out and being given orders and sedation to settle them for the night.

Dr.Munro beckoned Russo and me in, and gave us both thorough physicals. "OK, girls, I'm satisfied that physically you're both as well as you can be, but what you've been through today is going to cause some trauma. I want you both to get a damn good night's sleep, and that means sedation. OK with that?"

I got the feeling that if we'd said `no' or `why' he would just have gone ahead and done it anyway, so I climbed onto the bed next to Franklyn's, and took the proffered pills. Everything went black remarkably quickly!

When I awoke, it felt like morning, and a check on my watch showed 06.00. It also showed that two days had passed since the accident, and Dr. Munro had put in an IV line after I'd fallen for the pills. The fluid pack was empty, so Dr Doing-it-by-Stealth must have decided I could wake up now. Jack and Daniel were both far better at self- removal of IVs than I was, having had far more practice, but it wasn't too hard, and once I'd got a dressing on it, I was ready to roll. Fortunately my clothes had been left in the cubicle – Janet was always scrupulous about hiding them to prevent escape!

My first thought was the Comms.tent, but that would alert the Command to the fact that I was on the loose. I sneaked across the parade ground to the tent I'd shared with Jack, and hunted out my cell phone. At the Springs it would be just after 07.00, and Janet would be getting ready to leave for work.

"Sam? God, Sam, we've been so worried about you. Where the hell have you been? When we couldn't raise you, we thought something awful had happened. Is the Colonel's cell phone out as well?"

"Jan, what are you talking about? Don't you know what's happened?"

"What do you mean, what's happened? All I know is that Graham Simmons tried to contact you the day before yesterday about some problem with the computer program running the new addresses, and your cell and Jack's weren't answering, and the camp said you must be out of range at present, and they couldn't pass on any messages for a day or two! So what's wrong?"

I had never felt so alone in my life. I couldn't understand Col.Wells' reasons for holding me incommunicado, or for withholding the news of Jack's accident from the SGC, and I had no way of knowing what was to come. As the first notes of Reveille sounded, I swallowed a large lump of misery and gave Janet as brief an outline as I could of the situation I was in, and of the accident to Colonel O'Neill. Her stunned silence lasted no more than a few seconds before her military bearing reasserted itself.

"OK, Sam, I want you to stay calm, and don't waste your energies worrying. First of all, I'll go up to the Mountain and apprise General Hammond, so that he can get Wells off your back. We'll get someone up there to you as soon as we can. I'll get hold of Med-Evac, find out where the Colonel is, what condition he's in. He's probably making a whole wardful of nurses miserable even as we speak!"

I really hoped that could be true, but I had seen him loaded into that helicopter, Janet hadn't. As she signed off with a few more cheerful words, a dark hand lifted the tent flap and Dr. Munro looked in at me.

"Major Carter, how are you feeling?" "Like someone sedated me for 48 hours! Why was that necessary?"

"I'm sure you know that sleep is one of the best remedies for shock, and I couldn't really see you agreeing to it voluntarily."

"But isn't that technically an assault?"

"Not if in my opinion as your managing physician it was necessary for your recovery."

"Dr.Munro, I have lived through experiences far worse than that and had to go on functioning for days on end. You had no right to steal two days of my life from me! Now, where is Colonel O'Neill?"

"I don't know, Major, honestly I don't! Med-Evac radioed in to say they'd had to get him to a specialised trauma facility. That's the last we heard. I can only assume that any further reports on his status have gone straight to the SGC."

"That's bullshit! I've just spoken to the CMO at the Mountain, and she didn't even know that Colonel O'Neill had been injured!"

"I have no explanation for that, Major, I'm just the medic around here. Perhaps you ought to speak to the Colonel?"

"The only Colonel I'm going to speak to is Colonel O'Neill, when I can find him, that is! Meanwhile I'm staying here, in this tent. If Wells wants me, he'll have to come here."

So I spent a few miserable hours on my own, packing up the bedrolls and the rest of our kit, smelling the scent of Jack and our passion on the sleeping bags as I rolled them. Three days ago, that's all it had been, was that all there was ever to be? I had never before experienced love like his, I knew now what it was to give and receive, body and soul; was it to be a one-time gift, never to be repeated? I tried to convince myself that the bond between us was so deep, so mystical, that I would know if he had died, but I could hear Jack's voice laughing at me – he never did have much time for abstract concepts!

I waited, sad and solitary, without even knowing what I was waiting for. I couldn't cry anymore, because I didn't know yet what I had to cry about, and I didn't dare try to carry on as normal, because if Jack WAS dead, there was nothing left on Earth worth carrying on for. Looking back, a lot of this was probably the effect of the prolonged sedation, but at the time, someone holding the remote for my life had pressed the pause button!

The hum of rotors broke the spell. Perhaps everything was OK, and they were bringing him back to me! God, Carter, get a grip! The broken leg alone would hospitalise him for at least six weeks, maybe more. He wasn't about to come flying back to Horizon after three days!

I left the tent and walked up to the landing strip, to see the two other most welcome faces in the world. I ran into Daniel's arms, and while he held and patted and soothed, Teal'c rumbled reassurance and I cried.

"Do you know where he is?" I almost shook Daniel in my anxiety.

"He's in Vancouver General Hospital for initial treatment and stabilization. Janet will tell you more. Let's get your gear and get you home."

"No, Daniel, you don't understand, I have to see him. I have to go to him. I must, I need to be with him, you've got to…" My voice rose hysterically, and I was only brought back to myself when Teal'c slapped me gently.

"Major Carter, Danieljackson and I are under direct orders from General Hammond to return with you to Cheyenne Mountain immediately. It would not be wise to disregard his instructions."

As I stood deciding whether to mutiny, Francesca Russo and the law firm appeared with our gear. "Colonel Wells is looking for you, Major Carter, you might do well to go while you still can!"

"Thanks, Russo, give Franklyn my best."

"Sure! She feels really bad about all this."

"It wasn't her fault. It's just the way things go. The Colonel won't blame her" – if he gets the chance, a small evil voice said in my ear.

The three of us trotted back to the helicopter, conscious all the time of the gap in our line-up. The pilot had us airborne in no time at all, and pointed the nose for Colorado.

I don't think I noticed the flight much. I spent it in one or other of my best friends' arms, Teal'c broad and strong, Daniel more angular but somehow more comforting, and I must have slept, still trying to rid my system of the sedation. Daniel passed around coffee from a Thermos, and real cookies from a secret stash, and eventually we reached home. A Jeep waited at the strip to take us down to the gates, and General Hammond and Janet were waiting for us outside the elevator.

"Dr. Jackson, if you and Teal'c could stow the gear please, you can join us in the briefing room in thirty minutes. Major Carter, Dr. Fraizer would like to check you out first, if that's OK with you?"

"Of course, sir, though I wasn't injured myself."

"I understand that, Major, it's just for my peace of mind."

Janet ran through all the usual post-mission tests, and then said "Want to tell me about it?"

I tried to play dumb, but she wasn't my best friend for nothing.

"He's been hurt, seriously hurt before, Sam! Hell, he's even been dead before now. Why is this different? Why, instead of fighting for him, are you falling apart?"

That didn't seem fair, but I suppose she had a point. "We made love, Jan, at the camp, the night before it happened, we finally made love. He loves me, he said so, and then he was gone!" She didn't contradict me! I waited for her to start with the comfortable platitudes, but she didn't! There was no `Oh, don't worry, he's strong, he'll pull through!' Nothing!

We joined Hammond, Teal'c and Daniel in the briefing room, and the General had me run through the story from front to back. He questioned me on one or two details, made notes, and then said, "Well, as far as I can see, it was just an unfortunate accident. You'll need to make a statement for the Enquiry, Major, but that should see an end to it. You might like to know that I have already refused Colonel Wells' somewhat forceful request that you return to Camp Horizon. I can see no valid reason for your return, and you're definitely more use here. Now, as to the status of Colonel O'Neill, Doctor?"

"Thank you, sir. I understand that the Med-Evac flight took the Colonel straight to Vancouver General, this being the nearest specialized trauma unit. He has a fracture/dislocation of his left knee and this has been stabilized, but not yet replaced and set as the orthopedic team have to wait for the swelling around the joint to reduce a little more. It is likely that he will be transferred to the UBC hospital for the ortho.work. They have a great team there. He also has a couple of broken ribs, which have been strapped. These are causing no concern."

I waited for the other shoe to fall, and reached out to hold Teal'c's hand.

"The head injury, however, is more worrying. Colonel O'Neill has yet to regain consciousness, and the neurology team has drained an extradural haematoma, but they feel there might be a further extradural, or even a subdural bleed. Another worrying factor is his poor respiratory effort; at present a ventilator is assisting his breathing. I really hate to be a Jeremiah, but reading between the lines, this does not look good."

"Jack's strong, he's come out of worse than this before," said Daniel, while Teal'c added "If the use of a symbiote would assist O'Neill for a short time, I would gladly offer mine!" My contribution was "The healing device, that would help, wouldn't it?"

Janet shook her head sympathetically but firmly "The biggest problem is that Colonel O'Neill has been taken to a public hospital, a civilian facility. The Med-Evac team did the right thing clinically, but it does put the block on all alien remedies, I'm afraid."

"Then we'll fly him back to the Academy hospital." said Hammond.

"No, sir, we can't do that either. No clinician in his or her right mind would even consider moving a patient in so critical a condition. We'll just have to wait and hope."

"Can we go and see him?" Daniel asked, his blue eyes behind his spectacles glazed with concern.

"No, there's no point I'm afraid. I understand his parents have been flown from Chicago, and his ex-wife has been informed." said Janet.

I wanted to protest; I wanted to scream and rave and shout that we were his family now, that Teal'c, Daniel and I had more right than Sara O'Neill to be there at his bedside, that he loved me, not her, but all I did say was "Thank you, sir, permission to be excused?" Hammond nodded and we left. The enquiry was held into Mason's death, and it was officially declared an accident. The board accepted my statement and did not require me to attend, so there was no need to fly to Vancouver. Janet provided us with almost daily updates on Jack's condition, which soon dwindled to weekly as there was no change. A team from the UBC hospital had gone in and fixed the knee as best they could, but it was going to leave him permanently lame, and whatever else happened, his active service was over. I found in his unconsciousness just a tiny crumb of comfort then; at least he had a respite from knowing that he'd lost the career he loved so much.

Hammond wiped SG1 off the rotation board – no one could take Jack's place. Daniel and Teal'c were loaned out to other teams as necessary, and I worked in the labs, turning down the chances that were offered me for trips with other teams. Without Jack, for me at least, the sun had gone down over the event horizon.

After about eight weeks, we were allowed to fly up to the hospital. Jack's parents, after much soul-searching, had asked the hospital to remove the ventilator/respirator and leave it to Jack whether he lived or died. We held hands around the bed as all the tubing was removed, and after a brief pause he drew a shallow breath and then shakily exhaled, but he still didn't wake up.

A second bleed had been isolated, drained and sealed, and he was being scanned regularly for any further signs. There was nothing, but he still didn't wake up.

The doctors were gloomy. Words like paralysis, impairment, brain damage, amnesia, flew from them like rooks round a graveyard and I began to wonder whether I wanted him to wake up!

The flight back to the Springs was sombre to say the least The news had been depressing, we had been unable to offer any comfort to Jack's elderly parents, and to cap it all, I was airsick! Me, with over one hundred hours in the Gulf War, puking like a first-time flyer! Daniel was concerned, but didn't get too close – he didn't do vomit!

Back at the Mountain, I felt totally washed-out. I knew it was just the emotion of seeing Jack so helpless and wasted, plus the fatigue of the flight itself, but all I could do when we got back was crawl to my quarters and sleep. The next morning, I still felt nauseous, and called the lab to say I'd be working in my room. I tried to go for breakfast, but the smell from the Commissary hit me halfway up the corridor and my stomach rebelled again.

"Are you unwell, Major Carter?" asked Teal'c from behind me.

"No, I'm fine, thank you. I wonder, could you fetch me a cup of herb tea?"

"Of course! Do you intend to drink it outside the Commissary door?"

"No, I'll take it back to my room, thank you."

I could see him itching to ask why I suddenly couldn't cross the Commissary threshold, but his innate courtesy held him back, and he fetched the tea without question, handing it to me in silence before turning back to join Daniel in the breakfast line.

The tea helped the nausea a little, and I was well into some problems with wavelength modulations when Daniel called from the door "Sam, can I come in?"

I turned and smiled "Sure, what can I do for you?"

In his usual hesitant, slightly vague manner, a manner that masked a mind as keen as a scimitar blade, he said "Erm, Teal'c said you weren't feeling well. I just wondered if you needed anything?"

"Thanks for your concern, Daniel, but I'm fine, really. Yesterday took a lot out of all of us, I just need some recovery time!"

He perched on the edge of my desk, obviously there for the duration. "It didn't really look like Jack did it? I don't think I've ever seen him so still, he's never still. His hands, they've got a life of their own, haven't they? I swear he doesn't even realise he's fidgeting half the time."

"I know what you mean!" I said.

Daniel reached across the desk and picked up the chips from the wavelength modulator I'd been working on, and tossed them from hand to hand. "The number of times I've had to take things from him in my room, before he broke some three thousand year old artefact."

" Or a wavelength modulator," I said, stilling his hands with my own and putting the chips out of reach.

"Oh, sorry!" Daniel blushed and shifted his glasses, "I didn't realise it was contagious!"

"I'd give anything to see him in here now, wrecking any piece of research he chose, just to have him back. Oh, Daniel!"

Tears came far too readily, and Daniel gathered me to him and let me cry. In his way, I knew he loved Jack as I did, they had been through so much together, and it helped to cry with someone who understood. Eventually, we both sniffled to a damp halt.

"Look at us, for Pete's sake!" Daniel said "He's not dead yet, he's hanging on, and we're mourning him. He'd hate this!"

He was right, of course. Public displays of emotion didn't suit Jack at all. He would get embarrassed and the fidgeting would crank up a notch or two. That was something else I had to be thankful for; at least I'd had the chance to meet the emotional O'Neill.

The weeks turned, the news didn't improve, but at least it got no worse. Jack remained unconscious, and the reports received from Vancouver started to mention Persistent Vegetative State. We visited once or twice, and started sending tapes to be played to him, but it was difficult to find much to say that didn't mention work. Janet supplied us with as much information as she could, and kept repeating that as long as there was brain stem activity there was still hope, that he could just wake up one morning demanding Froot loops for breakfast, but looking at him, lying so still and quiet, it was very, very hard to believe.

We didn't actually forget him, he'd been such a huge part of all our lives for too long for that to happen, but he sort of got eased to the back burner of our minds to simmer gently while the rest of our lives boiled away at the front.

And boy! Was my life boiling! It had now been fourteen weeks since the accident, and some serious decisions had to be made. I stopped at a pharmacy on my way into work to buy what I needed. I knew Janet would be more than happy to do this for me, but I wanted to be sure before I spoke to her. Holy Hannah, wanted to be sure, who was I kidding? I was sure all right; I was a scientist, for cryin'out loud! Oh, God, where had that come from?

I sat in the women's' restroom at the base, and looked at the piece of plastic in my hand. My mind went back to another time when blue crystals had been so important, when the Energy crystals gave Jack the chance to say goodbye to Charlie. Now, blue crystals were giving him the chance to say hello to another O'Neill child, but would he ever be able to take it? I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, couldn't decide whether this was the best day of my life or the worst. It ought to be the best of course, discovering that the man I loved had given me his child, but with things as they were, I faced bearing and raising this child alone, and I didn't know if I was strong enough to do that.

My miserable musings were interrupted by Simmons' voice over the tannoy. "Major Carter to the infirmary stat. That's Carter to the infirmary stat."

Forgetting I still held the pregnancy wand in my hand, I raced to the infirmary. It could only be news about Jack!

"Sam, he's woken up! Only very briefly, and he didn't seem very aware, but he has opened his eyes for a little while. This is a real breakthrough ----- what's that in your hand?" Janet's eagle eyes had spotted the little plastic wand.

If I'd borrowed the microphone from Simmons and spoken over the tannoy, I could hardly have announced my pregnancy more publicly. Teal'c, Daniel, Janet and Hammond all looked at me, waiting for me to speak, and only Teal'c looked puzzled.

"It's a pregnancy tester, I'm pregnant!"

I braced myself for someone to ask who the father was, but no one did. Hammond looked concerned, Teal'c still puzzled, Janet just a shade envious, and Daniel, bless him, thrilled to bits!

"Sam, that's great news, congratulations. Jack is going to be so proud. He'll make our lives a misery, gloating."

Then he remembered that Jack was already making our lives miserable enough without gloating, and quietened down a little.

Janet went straight back to business. "You'd better stay and let me check this out, Major. Gentlemen, if you'll excuse us?"

It seemed that the minute my pregnancy was out in the open, things started going wrong. Janet had warned me years ago that Jolinar's protein marker might make things difficult, we just never knew how much. Threatened miscarriage followed threatened miscarriage. Janet tried everything short of fitting blast doors to keep the child in my womb. As the news of Jack improved, he had opened his eyes on command, he had lifted his head, he had spoken a few words, I begged and pleaded to be allowed to see him, but Janet would not countenance my making the journey by any means of transport, so I had to rely on second-hand reports from Daniel and Teal'c. Jack was still not aware I was pregnant, and I was too sick to be told of his condition, so we were at stalemate.

I worked through continuous vomiting (whatever happened to MORNING sickness?) constipation, swollen ankles that almost reached my knees, circulatory problems and backache so severe it made me scream. If this child was as difficult post-natal as it was antenatal, I was beginning to doubt I wanted it!

At 36 weeks, Janet decided that we had all had enough, and with my enthusiastic agreement, decided we would induce the birth and get the whole horrible business over with. Baby Apophis (named by Daniel for all the grief he/she had caused us) really wanted to be out in the world, and with pre-eclampsia threatening, we arranged a suitable time, when no off-world teams were due home and the infirmary was quiet. Dr.Warner was on hand in case of emergencies, but Janet really wanted to deliver my baby herself.

I'm afraid I'd lost track of Jack's status in all this. I didn't love him or miss him any less; it was just that I was using up so much time, effort and concentration holding on to his child. Daniel and Teal'c had visited regularly, but Janet was censoring their reports – I really didn't need any more aggravation from O'Neill senior when O'Neill junior was doing such a good job of making my life hell

My only hesitation was that Daniel was not here. He had volunteered to be my partner at antenatal classes and had breathed, panted and sang with great enthusiasm. I supposed he must be off-world, and asked Janet if we could wait for his return, but she was reluctant to leave Apophis where he/she was for another day.

We had discussed natural childbirth, and at first I had been quite eager, but as just carrying the child became more and more painful, I opted for whatever pain relief was available, short of an epidural. Whatever discomfort the little beast had caused me, I wanted to know it was out!

At 10.30 Janet made me as comfortable as she could, and ruptured the membrane holding Apophis in place. The amount of fluid that escaped amazed me – it felt like half of Niagara down there. The poor kid must have been swimming like Mark Spitz! The oxytocin infusion was injected and we waited. And waited. And waited. Janet had a fetal heart monitor and an ECG hooked up, and both beeped with monotonous regularity. I read a while, dozed a while, and then Cassie came to keep me company a while. We chatted about this and that, and as we discussed her latest physics project, I felt a ripple of pain cross my lower abdomen.

"Ooh, I think something's happening!"

"Should I get Mom?" Cassie asked anxiously.

"No, it's OK, honey, let's see how we go."

Before too long, the pains were coming regularly, but were still pretty bearable, and I was getting quite complacent. So what was so hard about childbirth? Cassie had fetched herself a chicken sandwich and some potato chips from the Commissary, and was now making impolite conversation with her mouth full.

Janet looked in every half hour, and seemed quite satisfied, and in truth, things got a little tedious. I had just decided to get up and go to the bathroom when a large wrench, bigger than anything Sgt.Siler had to offer, gripped my abdomen and twisted hard. I yelped and hit the panic button, and Janet came at the gallop.

"OK, honey bun, now we're cooking. Cass, you'll have to leave, doll." She left without protest, a first for Cassandra Fraizer. "Right, Samantha, this is where you start work." Another contraction gripped and I reached for the entonox, to breathe through it. Janet examined me and shook her head. "You're not quite fully dilated, yet, Sam, you're going to have to keep going just a while longer, OK?"

It was good of her to ask, but I didn't see that I had much choice. The next few contractions were pure hell! Pethidine took the edge off a little, and I remembered my breathing as best I could but I just wanted it to end!

At one bizarre moment I opened my eyes to find General Hammond next to me, holding my hand. I wanted my Mom, I wanted my Dad, I wanted Daniel and most of all I wanted Jack, but I got George Hammond, who wiped the sweat from my face and murmured words of encouragement.

"OK, Janet, this is enough! I don't want to do this anymore. I can't take any more of this, and I want to leave. For God's sake do something, don't just stand there smiling!"

"Sam, you're doing fine…"

I interrupted her "Well, pardon me if I disagree! I don't feel fine, and I don't want to have this baby. Now let me get out of here!"

Gentle hands eased me back on the pillows, and Janet examined me again.

"Sam, we're ready, we can start to push now!"

"What's with the `we?'? As far as I can see, I'm the one doing all the work here!"

Another contraction took hold and I had no more breath to complain.

"OK, now push! Good! Good girl, now relax till it's time for the next one!"

Oh, yeah! Relax, sure!

We went through this a couple more times, with Janet getting a little anxious and me getting tearful.

"Sam, you've got to concentrate on this, you've got to make more effort, you've got to push!"

"For heaven's sake, I am fucking pushing! Do something, you useless bitch!" I screamed at her in desperation.

From somewhere behind me I heard a familiar low chuckle, and then I knew I'd really lost it. The next contraction swept through me, and a very cool, very gentle hand touched my face.

"C'mon, Sam, push, chin to chest and push!"

I pushed, pushed like I never knew I could, and the cool hand stroked my brow.

"Well done, good girl, now relax a minute. Breathe quietly, breathe with me."

I felt the next one on its way, and reached to take hold of that cool hand.

"OK, ready?" The voice was low, almost hypnotic, and it filled me with strength. I couldn't open my eyes, because I knew this couldn't be real, and I didn't want to face the reality.

"Push, honey, you can do it this time."

I dug my nails into the hand I held, and his other hand now rested lightly on my abdomen.

"Yes! Come on, Sam, keep it going, just a little more, come on girl, we're there!" Janet's voice seethed with excitement, and suddenly the awful pain stopped and a loud cry of protest filled the air as Apophis objected to the sudden eviction!

"You have a beautiful, beautiful daughter. Would you like to cut the cord, Colonel?" Now I knew that Janet had lost it as well. Childbirth hallucinations must be catching! Suddenly this squirmy, sticky, damp thing was placed on my chest, and I had to open my eyes. I looked up into the brownest, warmest, most loving gaze I had ever seen.

"Hey Mom!" he said, stooping to kiss me gently.

"Hey, Dad." I answered, and we both turned our heads to look at our daughter. Jack picked her up and held her to my breast as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and with just a little help, she fastened onto my nipple and began to suck.

"Jack, would you like to step outside while we deliver the after birth and tidy Sam up a little?" asked Janet.

"Nope," he said, "I'm just fine here, though a chair would be nice."

He looked gaunt and weak, his eyes were hollow and the left-leg limp was very pronounced as he fetched a chair. His hair was very short and seemed much greyer than I remembered, but the smile was the same, and his heart was the same.

"Look at you! I leave you alone for five minutes and what do you do? Run off and produce babies!"

"With the very utmost respect, sir, it's only one small baby, it has been a little longer than five minutes, and if memory serves me right, you did have more than a hand in the matter!"

"You can lose the sir, Sam, I am very, very officially retired (again)!" He didn't seem all that upset at the thought. "However, I do have a couple of new roles lined up. The one is confirmed, I'm going to take up the new position of father!"

"And the other?" I asked.

"Well, that one is subject to approval from the governing body."

"Yes?" I persisted.

"I understand that there might be a vacancy for the position of husband. I'd very much like to apply!"

My reply was drowned in a protesting bleat from the Apophis-child as she lost her grip on my breast, but I guess he knew it would be a yes!"