Here's a fic for SamandJack by Request 2001 Jack snaked challenge (for Caroline) Muchos Muchos Gracias to my Beta/sounding board/idea generator Michelle

Title:Consequences

Author:Jodi Marie

Email:ag4bk@juno.com

Rating:PG

Summary:Jack thinks he's lost Sam for good

Classification:BWC, S/J, UST, H/C

Spoilers:teeny tiny early ones but does take place in season seven

Archive: SJD, yes

Disclaimer:Stargate/SG-1 and the characters thereof are the property of MGM/UA, Gekko, and Double secret Productions. This was written for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands.

The past few days had been hell for Carter. Not only did she have to oversee a mundane project being constantly screwed up by some inept technicians, her own project wasn't working out like she planned. She might as well start over from the beginning; she'd made some basic assumptions that turned out to be wrong. Add to that she never did finish her report from the last mission and wasn't ready for the briefing she needed to give come Monday morning. Well at least it was Thursday, she had plenty of time to get her act together. That would be if O'Neill stayed out of her lab for more than a few minutes at a time. The man was a menace to anything that wasn't nailed down. She griped to herself that if he really respected her he'd leave her alone.

The soft rap at the door made her jump and she shook her head. Here we go, another round at the short-attention-span-theater. She was surprised to look up and see her father's face.

"You ready to go?"

"Huh? Go where?" Her mind rapidly shoved aside equations and probabilities and found the tidbit she'd lost. Mark's birthday was Saturday; they were supposed to go spend a nice four-day weekend at his place getting to know the kids and being a `family'. Oh, crap, she thought, this thing was planned six weeks ago, how could she have forgotten?

"Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry, I forgot. I didn't even ask General Hammond for the time off."

"Don't worry about that, I just came from his office, we're good to go. He was a little surprised, but in the interest of international relations how could he say no?"

"International? You?"

"What else would you call it?" He grinned in that smug way only Jacob Carter could pull off. When she lowered her eyes to ponder the question he continued, "It's a rhetorical question, Sam, c'mon, I can't wait to see how the kids have grown."

Even though she was less than prepared to go she knew she'd regret it if she put up any fuss; besides since she was going to have to start her project all over again anyway, she figured she might as well start fresh on Monday morning. It didn't take long to close it all down and soon they were on their way out of the mountain.

After a quick run by her house to pack a bag they were off again.

Mark and his wife were overjoyed that the visit was actually happening and the kids were beside themselves. Of course Jacob took every opportunity to spoil them, more than once earning him a stern look from Mark. Sam found herself continually laughing or at least smiling at their behavior; she liked this `family' thing.

Sunday afternoon found her sitting on the back porch sipping a cup of coffee and wondering if she'd really made the best decisions in her life or if she was just fooling herself. Who wouldn't want to be in her position? A great job, interesting and challenging, great people to spend time with, also at work, and if that wasn't enough, a great future to look forward to, again related to the job. She frowned as she recognized there was a trend here. The job, the job, the job. So when was it *not* about the job? And was it really so terrible if it *was* only about the job?"

She was yanked out of her reverie when a bright yellow spongy ball came sailing her way and bounced off the side of her head. She picked it up off the deck and tossed it back out to the kids in the yard. They squealed with delight as Jacob caught it and dangled it over their heads and just out of reach.

She sighed and walked back toward the house and slumped into an Adirondack chair, leaning back and closing her eyes. Her sister-in- law came outside and slid the glass door shut behind her with a soft whoosh.

She grinned at the scene in the back yard. Her daughter let loose with a particularly high-pitched scream and she shook her head. "You don't get much of that down in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain do you?"

Sam smiled up at her. She liked Marcie, they woman was a perfect match for her brother; they had a hundred things in common yet were different enough to see issues from opposing sides; a quality that made their marriage as solid as a rock. "Yeah, no kids down there. Sometimes I think I'm really missing a lot of things while I'm down working in my lab."

Marcie eased herself into one of the chairs. "Do you ever think about having kids of your own someday?"

"Well, *someday*, sure. I guess."

"You'll make a great mom, I can tell. My kids adore you."

Sam looked out into the yard wistfully. In fact she had been thinking about having children and whether her career was worth giving up that hope indefinitely. "It's not possible for right now."

"Why not? Mark and I have friends who are in the military and juggle a family life. It may not be easy, but nothing is that's really worthwhile."

When Sam didn't respond Marcie decided to probe just a little deeper. She peered over the rim of her coffee cup. "So have you met anyone you could see yourself with for the rest of your life?"

The question seemed so innocent. Not are you dating anyone? Or, is it serious? Just a simple can you `see' yourself with someone. Sam shouldn't have been surprised at all when her first thought was of O'Neill.

"So, there *is* someone."

Sam blushed. "No not really."

"You're a terrible liar. If it means anything I won't say a word to Mark or his Dad."

It was a tempting offer to be able to talk to someone freely about something so totally forbidden she couldn't even let the thought creep into her mind. Most of the time. "Okay, there is someone that I care about quite a bit, but he's off limits."

Marcie took a guess at the obvious reason. "He's married?"

"Oh, no, not that. It's more a military thing."

"The Air Force can tell you who you can and cannot be involved with?"

"Exactly."

"That doesn't sound right. What if you love him?"

The shadow that crossed Sam's face was all Marcie needed to see and her eyes narrowed. "You *do* love him, but you can't be with him because of some lame regulation." She blew out a snort. "Seems to me you've got two options, get over this guy and move on to someone you *can* have or get out and keep him."

Sam suddenly found the dregs in her coffee cup interesting. Marcie was right, she had to move on in her life; the question was would she move on with O'Neill or without him. She blinked back a tear and noticed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Honey, I'm sorry. That wasn't any of my business, but since I'm already butting in- if he cares for you at all, you owe it to each other to make a decision here. It's not fair to either of you."

Sam nodded quickly once and pressed her eyes tightly shut. The warm hand became two warm arms wrapped around her, "Just remember you don't have to make any earth-shattering decisions right now and if you ever need someone to talk to, you know where I am." She squeezed then released her grip.

From somewhere only mothers know Marcie produced a tissue and blotted at Sam's face. "Now, come on, help me get the kids in, it's almost time for you two to leave so we've got to get your Dad to give them up."

The rest of the afternoon went too quickly and soon Sam and Jacob were loading their things into a cab bound for the airport. Every time Sam caught Marcie's eye since their short conversation she'd returned her gaze with a knowing look. When Sam hugged her goodbye Marcie whispered into her ear; "Anytime, night or day."

On the plane ride back Jacob slept; it seemed two energy–laden youngsters were a match even for Selmac. It didn't bother Sam though; she was deep in her own thoughts. She decided she truly liked her job. Even so, when she considered where she'd be ten years down the road all she could see was a vast empty spot where the word `family' should have been.

The trip home was quiet and after saying good-bye to her Dad she headed home. All that night she tossed and turned, trying to decide what to do.

Monday morning's briefing turned out to be delayed thanks to the unscheduled return of SG-4 with problems and concerns to be addressed. Carter gladly returned to her lab after being turned away from the briefing room. She couldn't believe she wasn't ready for the briefing; she'd been playing around all weekend and never got to finish her notes.

The rest of the week turned out to be only moderately productive. Her project proceeded like clockwork now that she'd worked out the bugs and by Friday noon she was done. Completely. Nothing to do. At all.

On a whim she asked Hammond if she could leave early and took off for home. She didn't really know what she was going to do once she got there but she'd figure something out. On the way she stopped by the local motorcycle shop to see if they ever got in those super hot spark plugs she liked.

The parking lot was full and she realized a meeting of some kind was going on. Instead of driving by, she pulled in.

"Hey Sam!" It was Joey, the proprietor of the establishment. "Long time no see! You're lookin' great! Come on, we're just getting' started." He pulled open the door of her Volvo and with a sweep of his arm invited her to join them.

The `meeting' turned out to be laying out the route for a weekend road trip. Including wives and girlfriends there were about thirty people, all die-hard cyclists. They were going to ride all day Saturday, find a place to camp out for the night then head back by a different route Sunday. No fast rough riding, just the joy of the open road. They were currently discussing traffic patterns and just how to get as far away from civilization as they could.

"You know, route 30 is under construction, everybody's been avoiding like the plague since the road is so rough but a bike could handle it easily as long as nobody got overly enthusiastic on the bad spots. And they won't be working on it over the weekend.

A tall lanky man with a touch of silver at his temples leaned over the table. "And you are?"

She thrust out a hand but before she could introduce herself Joey stepped in. "Sam, meet Tony. We served together in the Gulf."

"Sam, is it?" Tony took her hand and smiled. "From this point on, don't believe anything Joey says about me."

She grinned, possibly for the first time in a week. "What do you think about route 30?"

He glanced at the map then back up at her. "Looks like a winner." He looked around the room, "Anybody else? Okay then, everybody back here at 0700, that's *seven A. M. * to those non-military types-" He winked at Sam, "so don't be late."

Joey elbowed Tony and whispered into his ear as the crowd dissipated. He actually looked like he flushed a little when his eyes met hers. While Joey was checking on the plugs Tony came over and spoke to her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be a chauvinist jackass. Joey says you're a Major?"

She couldn't help but grin at him. "Air Force, Cheyenne."

"You do national defense stuff?"

"Uh, deep space radar telemetry, actually." Someday she was gonna come up with a better cover story.

"Yeah, right. By the way, I wasn't in combat in the Gulf; I was in Public Relations. I'm the guy who told the reporters what they could and could not say on the air."

She nodded once, still smiling.

"You ought to come with us, several of us are riding solo, you could take your pick."

"Actually I just might. But I'll bring my own ride, and tent." She giggled as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Far be it from me to get between a woman and her bike."

The ride up to the mountains was glorious, the camaraderie around the campfire was relaxed and comfortable and by they time the group had polished off a few dozen hot dogs cooked on sticks over the campfire Sam was sorry the trip was only two days long. The only equations she'd thought about were engine compression ratios; no Naquadah, no wormholes, no `c'mon Carter, think of something'. She felt completely rested and rejuvenated.

Monday morning came way to soon and during the briefing she was barely able to keep her mind on the subject, which was very unfortunate considering it was *she* who was giving the briefing in the first place. When O'Neill corrected her and was actually right, she knew she had to get her act together.

Afterward he had to rub it in a little. "So, Carter, long weekend? A little too much partying?"

"Sir," she groused, "No, I was out of town. I just didn't get enough sleep last night." For some reason she didn't want to tell him what she had been doing.

"Don't sweat it, everybody's entitled to an off day now and then, Hammond didn't even notice you were reading from the wrong file."

She jerked her head down and scowled. She had just gone over the statistics for the project that had failed, not the one she just finished last Friday. Luckily she had ad-libbed everything except the actual numbers so the most important information she gave them was accurate, in a round about way.

"Thank you Sir for pointing that out, I'll be sure to correct it at the next briefing. I really have to go." With that she swung around and stalked out of the room. `Shit', she thought to herself as she went, `he didn't deserve that.' For once her CO had revealed that he really did pay attention to her reports and she shut him down. "Crap. Stupid. Dammit." She punctuated every few steps all the way to her lab.

They had a mission off world the next day and were gone two nights, getting back early Thursday morning. Sam was behaving more or less like herself, when she was moody that is, so the guys all gave her a wide berth, especially O'Neill. She figured he must have told them it was `that time' of the month but she didn't care. She didn't want to talk to any of them anyway. She finished her sample taking and soil analysis way before Daniel was done so most of the last afternoon she spent just walking around and enjoying the quiet planet.

It wasn't that far different than the scenery she took in on the road trip. She found herself thinking about the people she'd met and how much she liked all of them, especially Tony.

He was ex-military so he understood `classified' and never pressed her to know what she *really* did in the mountain. He was smart, funny, and had a great bike. What wasn't to love?

She surprised herself to use *that* word in *that* context. Not love, no way, but intrigue, yes. When she got back she was going to pump Joey for some information.

When she got home Thursday evening there was a message flashing on her answering machine. "I hope you don't mind, I got Joey to rat you out for your phone number. He's way to easy, don't tell him I said that. He said you go out of town a lot so I don't know when you'll get this, but Friday night the group is getting together for some guitar pickin' and laughs out at the park on the north side of Petersen Base. I don't know the name but Joey said everybody knows where it is. Why don't you come on out and join us? I promise I won't be doing any of the singing. Hey, we're gonna grill up a mess of hot dogs so if you come BYOM, for the non-military around here that's Bring Your Own Mustard."

She grinned as the message ended. What a nut! The whole next day at work she couldn't stretch her attention span past three minutes. She was continually looking at the clock and counting down the time. It wouldn't do any good to leave early, the gathering wouldn't start until after dark most likely, so all she could do was bide her time until then. Even O'Neill coming and going several times throughout the day didn't keep her in her routine. He'd come in and watch her flit from one project to another then decide she *must* surely know what she was doing and leave, completely unaware that her actions were only a charade.

When she got to the park Tony was there sitting with a small group, not singing but he was playing a guitar with great finesse. When he saw her his face lit up. "Sam! You made it!"

He handed the guitar off to one of the others and greeted her warmly only to be surprised when she pressed a bottle of mustard into his hand. He looked at it and grinned. "Dijon Vu!"

She looked back at him oddly so he continued, "I think I've seen this somewhere before. Oh, here!" He pulled an identical yellow bottle out of his jacket and held it up with the one she'd given him.

She shook her head and grinned. "Do you guys ever eat anything else?"

"What? There's something wrong with Harley Steaks?"

The coals were ready and they were just opening the packages of wieners when two police cars showed up. The group was informed in no uncertain terms that the park *closed* at sunset. There would be no cookout tonight.

Since most of them had been there for a few hours already they just broke up instead of moving off somewhere else.

"So are you really hungry or did you just come for the dogs?"

"That and the singing." She drawled out the word `singing' in her best hillbilly twang.

Tony grinned then looked down and scrubbed his toe in the dirt. "I, uh, know we really just met but, you want to go get something to eat with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask." With that she moved beside him and curled her arm up under his, "I know a great place with *real* steaks."

She didn't get in until 2 AM and promptly slept until noon. When she got up her message light was flashing again.

"Sam, it's me. If I'm being too forward tell me to shove off Okay? I'm a real Sci-fi buff and that new flick just opened in town. You want to go? I don't really want to do the whole dinner and a movie thing but if you'd like to go ring me back. Here's my cell number-"

She quickly jotted down the number on a pad. As she picked up the phone she paused. What was she doing? Dating? She set the phone down and stared out the window for a moment before picking it up again. So be it. Sam Carter was dating.

Over the next few weeks the `dating' continued much to Carter's elation. She didn't stay late at work even once and was actually pushing for a speedy return home every time SG-1 went through the Gate. Her absence was not unnoticed by O'Neill who found himself increasingly bored. He hadn't realized until now just how much he enjoyed not knowing what Carter was doing but still being able to watch her do it.

He actually got his reports done. All of them. With bullet point summaries. Even Hammond was impressed.

Early the next week SG-1 was scheduled for a morning briefing. As O'Neill climbed the steps he could already hear Daniel and Sam talking. She was obviously very excited about the subject and was speaking with a lively tone in her voice about someone named Tony.

Daniel was responding to her. "But how do you keep the conversation going? I mean you can't talk about anything that goes on around here. I can't believe you have much in common with some biker."

"He's not *some* biker. He's a nice guy and he's ex-military, he doesn't push me."

O'Neill stood at the doorway and cleared his throat. Carter's mouth snapped shut and she lowered her eyes to the table. She knew this would happen. She had to confront it sooner or later; she just didn't expect to feel so guilty about it.

As soon as the briefing was over she moved directly into O'Neill's path and blocked his way to the door. "Sir. I need to speak with you about something."

"Of course." He turned back into the room.

"No, uh-" She reached out and barely touched his arm. "Not here. Maybe we could go somewhere?"

He turned and looked at her, not blinking. "We could go to the surface if you'd like. It *was* a beautiful morning when we came in."

She winced but nodded. All the better to be completely out of the complex. They walked side by side to the elevators and on up to the surface never breaking the silence. Once outside he turned around and faced her, "Carter?"

"Colonel." She looked away down the path. "Can we walk a while?"

He nodded and they moved away from the entrance, still walking side by side. The path was narrow enough their proximity made their shoulders brush occasionally but she barely noticed she was so intent on her explanation.

She started by talking about her visit to her brother's home and how she felt about seeing a real family in action. Her priorities had changed with those revelations she had that weekend; now she wanted more than just the `job'. "It's not that it's not rewarding, it is, it always will be to me, but there's more to living than work. I just don't want to wake up ten years from now and wonder where the time went. Like life just passed me by while I was buried in my lab."

"The old `biological clock' ticking away is it?" He didn't really mean to be snarky; it just came out that way. He was most surprised when she agreed.

"In fact, it is. I'm not getting any younger and that mountain will be there long after I'm gone." She proceeded to tell him about meeting Tony and how much fun she had just being herself again.

"You're always *yourself*, just sometimes a little preoccupied."

"Okay, poor choice of words. Since I've been spending time with Tony I feel- well, free, unfettered by rules and-" She paused to decide if she should really say it. "Regulations."

"Um, hmm." He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step off the path facing away from her. The sun was breaking through the trees in patches and here it was warm and bright. "You're happy, right?"

"Yes, I am."

He jerked his head up and looked directly at her. "Good. Then I wish you well."

She frowned and shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Of, course not." As they looked into each other's eyes the truth was laid bare. She'd already left.

They left on a short six-hour mission the next day. O'Neill was in full military command mode the whole time and one would think he had a hot date waiting for him at home, or at least tickets to some sporting event.

After the umpteenth order barked in his direction Daniel had had enough. "What is it with you today? We're only gonna be here a few hours and we all know that! We're working as fast as we can. Back off, would you?"

O'Neill turned to counter the younger man's assault but suddenly stopped himself and stalked off, leaving the scientists to their work. "Jeez, did he get some bad news or something? He's been a bear all day."

Sam bit her lower lip and thought a moment before replying. "In a way, maybe he did. I talked to him about Tony."

`You're saying he's acting like this because he's jealous?"

"No. No. Not that." She was stammering. "It's just hard sometimes to put things behind you." As she spoke she realized she was speaking as much about herself as her CO.

The post-mission briefing was put off until the next day and as per her now usual routine Carter didn't hang around. O'Neill was bored; Daniel was still pissed at him and even Teal'c had somehow managed to make himself scarce. So, O'Neill headed for home, knowing he'd be just as bored there; at least he had something to look forward to; after going over their last mission they'd be prepping up for a new one right away. He'd already looked over the preliminary MALP surveys and knew it would be much longer, at least several days if not a week. There would be plenty of time for him to repair whatever damage he'd done on this last one, and besides, Carter wouldn't be running off early every evening. He glanced over the survey photos at the plentitude of trees and smiled, he couldn't help but look forward to this mission.

Carter's lack of presence when he arrived at the next day's briefing was irritating to the Colonel. He couldn't believe she was late again; guy or no guy, she still had a job to do. Irritation gave way to outright annoyance when General Hammond broke the news Carter would not be attending at all. She had requested leave on short notice and would be gone for two weeks.

After the briefing, now made much longer and dryer since it was run by Daniel, O'Neil decided to blow off some steam in the gym. Teal'c arrived shortly after him and seeing the Colonel deliver several hefty punches to a bag asked if he would consider a short spar.

"Sure, why not? Maybe what I need is a good ass-kicking. Let's do it."

Teal'c inclined his head at the odd answer and gestured to the mat. At once Teal'c could see the man was in prime form today; he was actually getting through a few jabs. For just a moment Teal'c let down his guard and was suddenly assailed with a hard punch to his solar plexus knocking him back and the wind out of him. He teetered off-balance but before he could fall O'Neill locked his arm around the big man's forearm and pulled him back up. "T! Whoa big guy, where ya goin'?"

He leaned forward to catch his breath. "O'Neill, it would seem you have an advantage today."

"Advantage? Over you? And just what would that be?"

"As I continue to observe your culture, I have noticed that frequently when males vie for the attention of a single female their physical prowess often exerts itself."

"What did you just say? " O'Neill looked back at him with confusion.

"I have noticed-"

O'Neill cut him of with a wave of his hand, "I got it. I heard what you said. That's not what it is."

Teal'c inclined his head and looked back silently.

"Okay, I've been a little jumpy lately and I needed to blow off some steam. That's all. Comprende?"

At the blank look from Teal'c he shook his head, "Do you understand?"

"I understand." The Jaffa stood upright and turned to walk away. Before he left he mat he turned his head back over his shoulder and added, "More than you, it would seem."

He left O'Neill standing there taken aback at his remark.

Later that evening O'Neill found himself standing at the door to Teal'c's quarters, staring at the blank grey door. After several moments he dragged himself out of his stupor and rapped lightly on the cold metal.

"Enter."

Once inside he closed the door quietly and stepped into the ever- present candlelight. "T, I wanted to apologize for being a bit short tempered lately." As he talked he absent-mindedly played with a drop of wax on one of the candles and subsequently burned his fingertip, jerking his hand back from the flame and sticking it in his mouth to suck the heat out of it.

Teal'c only blinked at the perceived silliness before him. Sometimes it was painfully obvious to him that he had many more years of experience than even this grey-haired seasoned warrior. He stood and approached his friend. "There is no need to apologize, you should, however, realize there has been a change in your behavior as Major Carter has spent less time here."

O'Neill looked back at him surprised and gestured with his hands, "What change?" He didn't give the Jaffa time to respond. "Okay, you're right. I've been bored, what can I say? I didn't realize how much time I spent in her lab, not that I knew what she was doing in there anyway." He pause and lightly tapped his fist against the wall. "Crap, is it that obvious?"

"It is."

Leave it to the original `man of few words' to be blunt. O'Neill looked back at him and pressed his mouth into a thin line. "You're right. It is. She said she was happy and here I am moping around about it. I should be glad for her. She deserves to be happy, we all do." He reached out and grasped Teal'c's upper arm. "See you tomorrow. We've still got a `go' for the mission, just us boys this time."

The mission turned out to be scrubbed for the time being as the General decided it would be too difficult to replace the Major on this one. The mineral surveys alone would be quite extensive and he couldn't spare a geologist from another team right now.

Let down and still bored, O'Neill was intent on not giving in to any more unprofessional behavior; he literally threw himself into his work. Two weeks could go by pretty quickly if you knew where the needs were. He volunteered to take on a couple of Cadet training exercises and even signed on for some night watches at the SGC in addition to his usual schedule.

On his second night shift he was surprised by the blare of the klaxons announcing an unscheduled Gate activation. Since he was the senior officer on shift he was already present, using the General's office to go over personnel reports. At the sound of the harsh alarms going off he turned to the window and watched the first two chevrons lock before darting out of the office and down the steps to the control room. Once there he rested a hand on the shoulder of a very young lieutenant who was manning the console. The kid looked scared to death, as if he expected a hundred Jaffa to storm through the gate.

O'Neill scanned the panels and spoke in a purposefully even tone. "Make sure you're set to receive any incoming signals. Could just be SG-4 coming back a bit early. Here we go."

As he spoke the final word the seventh chevron locked and the Gate whooshed open. As soon as the event horizon settled back on itself he gave the order, "Close the iris."

The lieutenant slammed his hand on the control more forcefully than was needed. All eyes were on the young man as he tapped commands into the keyboard and listened carefully on his headset. "Sir, incoming transmission."

"Identify."

"Tok'ra IDC, confirmed."

"Open the iris." O'Neill leaned forward to the desk microphone, "Team stand down. Friendly traveler." He wondered if the Tok'ra even cared to keep track of the hour here on earth. Most likely not, he just hoped it wasn't Anise with some technology she wanted to dangle in front of them and lure them into helping her with an experiment.

He was relieved when a single human male exited the wormhole and strode down the ramp. He took the steps down two at a time and was in the Gate room before the wormhole dissipated.

"Jacob! I don't suppose you know it's 3 AM here?"

"Nice to see you too, Jack. Uh, time couldn't be helped. What are you doing up and about if it's the middle of the night?"

"Long story. I'm betting you didn't come here to check up on my nighttime activities."

Jacob cast him a smirk. "No, I don't think so. You think George would be in a totally foul mood if we woke him? I really do have a good reason for being here."

A few minutes later O'Neill and Jacob were in Hammond's office speaking with the General via the speaker on the phone. "So how long have you been out of contact with your people?"

"Six hours. I know it may seem a little soon to be concerned but the Jaffa at that base keep to a rigid schedule. We are positive our operatives have been compromised."

"So what do you need?"

"Well other than an assault force, a ton of ammunition and a lot of luck- " He stopped when he heard a snort of the other end of the line. "All right, seriously, I know you can't spare that kind of manpower on short notice, it would be nice though. I actually did have something specific in mind." His eyes locked with O'Neill's across the desk. "George, I understand your 2IC has extensive Black Ops experience which I think could be extremely helpful under these circumstances. We are dealing with a minor Goa'uld who is one of the most paranoid I've ever come across. We need to get into the complex and I'm sure we're going to run into every kind of booby trap that's ever been conceived. We need someone with the instincts for dealing with this kind of thing. I thought Teal'c might be of help too."

O'Neill nodded slightly then spoke into the speaker, "General, it's not like we've been doing much the past few days. You know how grouchy Teal'c gets when he's stuck in his quarters for too long."

"Colonel, I'm hesitant to send only the two of you off, I'd rather have all of SG-1 together, and have back up."

"Well, Daniel could go."

Jacob's eyebrow went up at the obvious exclusion of his daughter. "And Sam?"

"She's not here. Out of town, got a `mission' of her own." O'Neill's face lost some of it's animation. "We'll be Okay without her." He turned back to the phone, "Sir, SG-14 is due to go out in less than four hours, if you weren't opposed to scrapping their mission-"

Jacob was still thinking about where his daughter might have gone off to when Hammond's voice came across the speaker. "Colonel, you have a `go', notify Major Collins their mission has been changed to search and rescue under your command."

Jacob was pacing in the back and forth in the briefing room. In his mind this was taking too long. He didn't fault Hammond for not sending more troops but he really wanted to get going now that a course of action had been determined. He barely waited for everyone to be seated and O'Neill to begin the briefing before he spoke.

"This mission is to recover Tok'ra hostages within a compound controlled by a contingent of Jaffa. The Goa'uld they serve is Paka'a, mean anything to you Daniel?"

The archaeologist stroked his chin, "Well, that would be a minor god, maybe Polynesian, of the air or, more specifically, wind."

"You're right." Jacob answered. He didn't see O'Neill turn to Daniel and mouth the word `gas?' and Daniel's subsequent glare of exasperation.

"And he is as changeable as the wind can be. He's one of the most paranoid we've ever dealt with. He keeps his Jaffa on a tight leash but he himself comes and goes on no set schedule whatsoever. We can only hope that he doesn't show up while we're there; if he did the number of Jaffa would be tripled."

"What have you got on the compound?" O'Neill was ready to get straight to the planning stage. Jacob set a 3-D holographic imager on the table and turned it on.

As it came to life revealing an image of the compound exterior, Jacob continued, "As you can see there are three entrance portals, here, here and here. The cells are in this wing so we'll need to go in here." He pointed to various spots on the image as he spoke.

"And you don't think the actual presence of Jaffa will be the greatest threat?"

"No, I don't. We have no operative on the inside, which puts us at a distinct disadvantage, but we know this Goa'uld is known for shoring up his forces in unconventional ways. We expect to run into a large number of traps and other obstacles but not that many guards."

"Any idea at all about these booby traps?"

Jacob smiled as he watched Teal'c's eyebrow rise. "Better than that, I brought one with me." With that he pulled a small orb out of his pocket and rolled it across the table to O'Neill. Just before it got to him it suddenly stopped by itself and split open to reveal a multitude of tiny darts inside just bristling to be released.

"Holy-" O'Neill shouted as he jerked his hand back.

"Don't worry this ones been disarmed."

With his voice higher and louder than normal O'Neill responded, "Still looks a bit `armed' to me!"

Jacob reached out and flicked one of the bristles with his finger, "See, it's not going anywhere. But if it had been active, everyone in this room would be either unconscious or dead, depending on the chemical they used."

Major Collins was seated beside O'Neill and gingerly reached past him to the device. He touched it, barely, and then slid it closer to their side of the table. "The tips look barbed, I bet they'd stick into anything with minimal force."

"Yeah, just don't go testing one." Jacob cautioned. "It's been disabled but I won't guarantee all the chemical has been removed."

Collins blew out a breath and with a grimace slid the object away and back to the center of the table.

"Okay, so we'll run into some of these little dart blasters, what else?"

"Not sure, he seems to like setting things off with motion detectors and lasers; that's why we haven't gotten in very far."

"No problem." O'Neill nodded to the two ex-Special Forces members of SG-14. Both Collins and his 2IC, Williamson had been in Iraq as well as South America, lots of experience there. "We'll kit up with some `extra' things we don't usually bring along." Collins nodded back, already making a list in his head of the small mirrors, wires, clips and assorted hardware he'd need. This mission might actually be fun; he hadn't done anything remotely like this in years.

After a few more minutes of planning O'Neill dismissed the briefing, they would move out at 0700. As soon as he got out of his chair O'Neill grabbed Daniel by the arm, "Hold on, I got something I`ve got to talk to Collins about, wait for me a minute okay?" With that he turned and gestured to Collins to join him in Hammond's office.

Daniel scowled, he just knew Jack was going to pull him off this mission, too dangerous for the archaeologist, let the big boys who know what they're doing take care of it. He slammed his folders back onto the table and flopped into a chair to await his dismissal.

Collins emerged with a complete lack of expression on his face and went straight to the stairway, not even giving a nod in Daniel's direction.

"Daniel." Jack was back in the briefing room leaning forward on the heavy table with both hands. "You understand this is turning out to be a highly specialized mission. I've decided to reduce our possible losses; you and-"

"You're pulling me off the mission."

"Not just you, all the non-military personnel."

"You can't do that! I'm as able as anyone else! Just because I'm not Special Forces doesn't mean I can't handle a gun. I don't have to go in first; I can be back up. What if you run into this Paka'a?"

"You speak Polynesian now?"

"Well, no, but I know a lot about their culture."

"I don't think that's going to help us this time."

"I want to go." As their eyes remained locked O'Neill had a sneaking suspicion there was more to Daniel's request than he was letting on; it was something more personal, between them.

"Daniel," He spoke slowly, "You're not feeling sorry for me are you?"

"No!" He answered too quickly. "I'm part of the team, I should go."

O'Neill lowered his eyes to the table then back up at the younger man; he knew what this was really about. Daniel had noticed how lost he was without Carter being around all the time and wanted to let him know the whole team wasn't breaking up because of it. "You should be glad I didn't `order' Collins to drop his two civilians, I asked him to explain the mission in great detail to them and give them the option of sitting this one out. If it had been an order I would have to hold myself to the same."

"You're gonna let me stay?"

"Call it a moment of weakness." He shrugged then pointed at him. "But you will follow orders explicitly even if I tell you to go."

He nodded quickly suddenly very much aware he was going to be in way over his head this time.

Hammond showed up in time to have a few words with Jacob and wish them Godspeed. As expected Collins' two civilians had no stomach for Black Ops and did not even show in the Gate room when their companions left. The force Jacob recruited from the SGC turned out to be a five-man team: O'Neill, Teal'c, Collins, Williamson and Jackson.

On the other side of the Gate, Jacob immediately dialed another site. They Gate-hopped one more time after that and emerged in the center of a large encampment. Though the Tok'ra living quarters were all underground, out of necessity for a place to harbor their small fleet and do some repairs tents had been set up as well. The scene was reminiscent of a temporary base often set up when the Air Force moved into an area where a landing strip was needed. Obviously General Carter had been busy explaining the finer points of military strategy to his compadres.

O'Neill stopped at the top step just beyond the event horizon and adjusted his cap to shade his eyes better. "Jake, if I didn't know better I'd swear we were on earth, Arizona maybe."

The older man chuckled, "You mean the Tel'tacs aren't a giveaway? My ship is over there." He pointed to a medium sized cargo ship off to the right of the main compound. "We'll be joined by two other smaller ships for a three sided attack wing."

O'Neill nodded. If anything he rarely could argue with Jacob's tactics, the combination of Jacob's human military background and centuries of experience from Selmac made him a force to be reckoned with any day of the week.

They didn't waste any time getting settled on Jacobs ship. They were glad they'd only brought what they could carry in packs; the hold was tight. Somehow Jacob had managed to get a glider in there.

"I thought you said three?"

"Well, three and a back up."

"You didn't forego the escape pods did you?" O'Neill eyed the standard two seated craft.

"They're here. Don't worry. " He patted the silvery blue wing of the glider, "This baby is only here so someone can go get help if we *do* go down."

Within the hour they were on the way to Paka'as planet. Major Collins was already repacking his things after having pulled his entire pack apart to make sure nothing was missing. At first Daniel stayed back but the odd assortment of items intrigued him. He scooted closer and with no further prompting Collins began to explain what each device was and why they just *had* to have one for this mission. O'Neill smiled at the exchange, Collins had three sons, all of which doted on every word he said to them. It was almost a natural thing for him to take Daniel under his wing and explain the basics of surveillance and defeating someone else's surveillance.

Jack joined Jacob in the control room, assured that Daniel was in good hands.

"Have a seat, Jack. We'll be enroute for a few hours yet. Anything new back home?"

He slid into the co-pilots seat and ran his finger over the console, careful to not activate any controls. "Oh, you know, same old same old."

"So where's Sam?"

Leave it to Jake to get right to the bare bones. "On vacation."

"As in away from work? We are talking about my daughter here, right?"

"She's, uh, expanded her interests lately."

"As in?" Jacob wasn't going to let it go and the answer popped out of Jack's mouth before he could stop it. "Tony."

Jacob just looked at him. He knew all to well how close his daughter was to her CO. Jack leaned back a bit further in the chair and clarified, now that he'd already stuck his foot in it. "His name is Tony. Ex-military, I don't know what branch, rides a Harley."

"Not someone at the SGC? You know I didn't realize how much not being able to talk about stuff cut into our father-daughter relationship until I joined up, now I can't imagine being a part of all this and not talking about it. What the hell do they have in common; what do they talk about?"

"Stuff I'm sure. Motorcycles, I don't know what else."

"Well I for one cannot see Sam getting on with someone who is very far removed from the Stargate program. She's always loved her work, I can't see her leaving it behind."

O'Neill looked down with almost a pout on his face. "Yeah." Unfortunately he could imagine it all too well. Not only was she leaving it behind, it was making her happy to boot.

The planet was heavily forested which was a good thing and a bad thing. While it concealed their landing and would give them cover on the ground they had to set down much further away than was originally planned. It was decided to leave behind two men to guard the ships and alert the others of any problems. Daniel was sure he'd be chosen for this unglamorous task but two Tok'ra volunteered before it could be discussed.

The crew from the second Tok'ra ship joined the humans as they made their way into the forest. Their entire ground force now consisted of five non-blended humans and four Tok'ra.

The camp was a good ten-mile hike with no road or even a path in sight. Like good little soldiers they all hunkered down under their packs and walked it out. They took turns at point slashing through the brush occasionally and having to `trail blaze.'

Finally they arrived at a ridge overlooking the compound and lined up to view it. It was actually just a small base camp with only a few permanent structures. All around it were dozens of small tents. O'Neill turned to Jacob. "Visiting Jaffa?"

"No, more likely this is the standard set up of this base. Paka'a likes to move his people on short notice; it pays them to be mobile. With his paranoia you can expect him to show up anywhere at any time."

"Sweet. A delusional Goa'uld. Where do we go in?"

They had landed at night and the sky was just now beginning to lighten a little. "We'd better get down there, according to our Intel, they'll change guards in less than an hour. Right after that will be or best opportunity to get inside."

O'Neill glanced at Collins to verify he'd heard Jacob's words then motioned for the group to move out.

Jacob's Intel was right on and they were able to quickly subdue the few guards much to everyone's relief.

To get to the holding cells they'd need to move out the central part of the building and down one level. This Goa'uld was apparently one of the old school that still believed in dungeons. Once they were inside they were amazed at how much it looked like an old English castle back on earth. There were no inscriptions of any kind whatsoever on the walls; only a few heavy tapestries with golden threads woven into the designs belied the penchant for extravagance so common to the Goa'uld. For the most part the walls were simple gray stone polished smooth like glass.

O'Neill and Jacob led the small party, pausing every several feet to listen. Even though they were careful to be quiet their own footfalls echoed back at them. At one point O'Neill stopped and glared back at one of the Tok'ra who was allowing a buckle on his belt to chink softly with every step he took. He sheepishly realized he'd been making the noise and quickly adjusted his clothing to silence it.

There was a guard station at the main intersection manned by six Jaffa; not an overwhelming force but sure to make a racket if they were engaged. Collins motioned to O'Neill and gestured toward a secondary hallway. Jacob's Intel had shown a series of ventilation shafts, each with a huge fan providing airflow to the lower levels. They'd been able to hear the occasional soft whumping of the blades whenever they neared one. O'Neill moved closer to where Collins indicated and noticed there was no sound out of this particular shaft. The fan was either non functional or had been shut down for some other reason. They couldn't be certain it would stay off for long but it would be a better risk than facing the Jaffa.

Collins produced a tiny quantity of C-4 barely the size of a pencil eraser and pressed it to the latch of the fan cover. Instead of detonating it in the usual way he pulled a simple alkaline battery out of his pocket with wires soldered at the terminals at each end. He held the wires a few inches back from the exposed ends and touched them together right over the little blob of explosive. It immediately ignited with a soft fizzle and in a moment a single `chink' was heard as the latch gave way.

As soon as Collins removed the grate one of the Tok'ra started to move in closer but O'Neill waved him back. This was just the kind of place he'd put a booby trap if he were in charge of security, an unlikely entry point that by sheer design was not easily monitored nor checked frequently by the guards.

His instincts proved correct. He slid forward on his stomach and shone a flashlight beam down the shaft. When it revealed nothing he switched over to the red laser sight of his P-90 set on wide beam. When he swept it across the opening it immediately lit up two microscopically thin wires across the shaft only inches from the end of his weapon. He grimaced at how close he'd come to touching one. He turned the flashlight back on and scanned the walls for the wire attachments. There was most likely a current applied to the wires and interrupting it would set off an alarm.

There was enough room that he really only needed to remove one of the wires. After locating both ends he attached a jumper wire to maintain the connection and then removed the original wire. The work went quickly as Collins had moved in closer and was handing O'Neill whatever he needed to complete the task. They were so precise they would have made a good surgical team.

Once the barrier was breached O'Neill let Collins take point through the shaft. They let him get several feet on down then followed single file behind him. When he got to the fan blades he slid a makeshift stop block into place to hold the blades if the fan motor did start up. Hopefully the guards would think an animal had wandered into the shaft and blocked the blade.

On the lower level Collins had to use a propane torch to cut through the latch from the inside. When it was done Teal'c slid past the others and assisted him to lower the grate to the floor without a sound.

Once all of them were clear of the shaft Jacob motioned in the direction of the cells. He took one step but was stayed by O'Neill who then pointed out a slight recess in the wall at chest height.

This time it was Williamson's turn to go first. He slid along with his back against the wall, crouching to keep himself low and stopped when he was just within reach of the recess. He glanced back at the others and seeing them ready, held his P-90 out and waved the muzzle across the opening. Immediately a long arrow shot out and lodged in the far wall.

Williamson began to stand but O'Neill waved at him to hold fast. A moment later one of the Dart Blaster Balls popped out and landed in the center of the hallway. Without a moments hesitation O'Neill pulled off his vest and lunged toward the orb landing directly on top of it with his vest now folded on itself between his chest and the device.

It detonated just as they expected but the darts found nothing but thick Kevlar in which to imbed themselves. O'Neill gingerly lifted one corner of the vest and peered beneath it to see at least sixty miniscule barbs poking out of his vest. He glanced back at Jacob and blew out a hard breath. Jacob had to smile, Jack wasn't making a sound or even moving his lips but it was obvious by the look in his eyes he was cursing to himself vehemently.

He rolled off the vest and waved the others out of their hiding places. They continued their trek down the hall very slowly, looking out for any more traps along the way. The guard station on this level turned out to be manned by only two Jaffa so O'Neill decided it would be best to just take them out with Zats. Besides it was time to give Teal'c and Daniel something to do; they both were looking decidedly left out of the Special Ops stuff. He half whispered/half gestured what he wanted them to do and gave them the go-ahead when he was sure they understood. A moment later both Jaffa were unconscious on the ground.

O'Neill nodded his approval then turned to Jacob. "Let's find your men."

They spread out, each taking a block of cells and looked for the missing Tok'ra. Williamson was the one to give a short high-pitched whistle to alert the team he had found something.

The cell was a typical castle dungeon with cold dank walls and the pervading smell of mold and decay; hopefully it was only from the rats that had crawled in then gotten trapped and died there.

There were five Tok'ra, all in rough shape with torn and bloodied clothing. And though the symbiotes had been hard at work to heal their injuries the multitude of bruises was a clear indication of what they'd been through. All but one was conscious and sitting up leaning against the hard stone walls. They barely looked up when the heavy door creaked open to Jacob's hand.

O'Neill and Collins were next in and stepped aside to allow the others entrance and to tend to the wounded. Teal'c stayed in the hallway to look out for any Jaffa that might come upon them unexpectedly.

Selmac homed in on the one prone figure in the room and frowned when he knelt beside him and saw he was barely breathing. This one was the leader of the unit and as such was the most important one to survive and report back with what he had learned.

After assessing the condition of the injured men and conferring with Jacob, O'Neill decided exiting via the shaft was no longer an option; they'd have to go out through the main hallway. Teal'c was given the task of carrying the unconscious man while the others were assisted to walk. That left O'Neill, Collins, Jacob and one of the Tok'ra to scout out their exit route and deal with any resistance they met along the way. The first task was to get past the heavily manned guard station on the main level.

O'Neill decided a diversion was in order and dug two bricks of C-4 out of his pack. He and Collins went back to the vent shaft and climbed up to the main level. Once there they planted the explosive in a hallway opposite where they'd have to go to exit. O'Neill tapped his microphone switch twice to alert his teammates to get ready to move.

When the C-4 went off it was as if an earthquake hit; the walls shook and shifted slightly allowing clouds of dust to fall from the ceiling. O'Neill and Collins had hidden in an alcove and stayed put until several Jaffa went past them then quickly moved out and down the hallway. By the time they met up with the others just arriving from the lower level Jacob and one of the Tok'ra had already moved ahead toward the exit.

All but two of the Jaffa left to investigate the explosion and they were easily neutralized by Jacob and his cohort. Now they faced the harder task of getting out of the complex and into the forest.

They paused just inside the exit to see just what they'd have to go through. Teal'c took the opportunity to rest a moment and lay the still unconscious Tok'ra on the ground. Jacob once again knelt at his side and checked his pulse. "Dammit, I knew we should have borrowed that healing device from the SGC, there were bound to be some severe injuries. Why didn't I think of it?"

O'Neill heard him grouse and crouched beside him. "How bad?" Jacob already informed him that this particular Tok'ra was extremely valuable to their cause and *must* at all costs be returned home.

"Bad enough." He noted the hesitant look that flashed across O'Neill's face and quickly added "Don't worry, Khalil can hold on for a while, we just need to get moving."

"Right." O'Neill nodded. They decided to go with another diversion while the Jaffa were still trying to figure out what the first one was all about and radioed back to the ships. The Tok'ra were not eager to get into the line of fire with their small ships but when Jacob explained how badly their teammates were injured and the fact that ten miles might as well be ten thousand miles, they relented. The plan would be to strafe the area, set down quickly, get everyone aboard and get out. Unfortunately to expedite the escape they'd have to leave one of the ships behind, there wasn't time to ferry someone back to fly it out. Even more unfortunately it would have to be Jacobs larger ship. Luckily the Tok'ra had concealed the ships in case of an aerial patrol and the ship they'd have to leave behind was well hidden.

A few minutes later on Jacob's mark the two scout ships came flying fast and low over the complex. The ships appearance took the Jaffa on the ground completely by surprise, first taking out several gliders and a cargo vessel then making a run on the main complex. As they lay down cover fire the path was cleared before them. Several of the Jaffa were able to get off blasts from their staff weapons but they were not powerful enough to penetrate the enhanced shields of the ships.

O'Neill, Collins, Jacob and the other Tok'ra ran forward and took cover behind crates and water barrels out away from the building. They were far enough out that one of the ships could land right at the entrance and be able to be protected by their cover fire. As soon as the first one came down three of the injured Tok'ra were rushed aboard and it took off again in a cloud of dust and debris from the engines.

As soon as the first ship was airborne the pilot moved off to a discrete distance and pivoted 180 degrees to be able to provide cover for the second ship.

It was becoming difficult to see on the ground; the many staff weapon discharges had initiated a number of small fires throughout the compound and the air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of charred wood and metal. The early morning sun barely cut through the haze.

A dark shadowy shape descended almost exactly where the first ship had been. O'Neill squinted through the debris and saw it was the second scout. He turned his face away and cupped his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice. "Teal'c! Come now!"

The big Jaffa was standing just inside the entry and stooped to pick up the unconscious man. He wondered if it was really worth the effort, surely this Tok'ra would die in transport if he wasn't dead already. He certainly felt like dead weight. He ducked a close blast and ran from the building; Daniel was just ahead of him helping the last injured man.

Reinforcements arrived for the Jaffa troops and it seemed the staff weapon fire was becoming constant. When O'Neill saw them moving up with something that looked like a canon he spun around and shouted, "That's it! Move now! Jacob!"

Jacob and the Tok'ra beside him were already moving toward the ship and O'Neill stood to join them.

The moment he was out from behind his cover he felt it, the searing white-hot pain of an energy blast impacting his right flank. He went down on one knee with a grunt but caught himself before he fell all the way down. He knew if he went down he would not get up again. When he looked up Teal'c was paused at the hatch to the ship, the unconscious man still draped over his shoulder like a dead animal being brought home from a hunt.

O'Neill could easily see the hesitation on the Jaffa's face; continue to move forward and save this most likely already dead man or drop him where he was and make a run for his friend.

The colonel forced himself up and gave an encouraging nod back telling him it would be all right to go ahead, he'd be right there. In another moment Teal'c's large shadow disappeared into the ship.

O'Neill was faltering, trying to move toward the ship but having to walk backwards so he could continue to cover himself the last few feet. The twisting of his torso made him grimace as the smoldering burn in his side tore open a bit further and he could feel something hot and wet tracking down his skin. Funny how there wasn't all that much pain just yet, the nerve endings had literally been burned off the worst part. He had the odd idea that he hadn't really been shot, shot *at*, but not shot.

Suddenly the amount of flying debris seemed to triple and a wind whipped the nearby tent flaps wildly. When O'Neill took a second to glance over his shoulder at the ship he saw it was already a few feet off the ground. He had a moment of horror as he imagined them leaving without him but then the face and upper body of Teal'c appeared at the hatchway.

"O'Neill!" Teal'c was leaning as far out as he dared extending one arm in O'Neill's direction.

He was out of time and he knew it, he turned to face the ship and ran as fast as his injury allowed. His legs were still holding out at least and the adrenaline pumping in his veins was giving him the added strength and endurance he needed.

Teal'c smiled as he felt O'Neill's arm lock with his and was met with a smile in return that suddenly faded as an energy blast hit the side of the ship and the Colonel was almost jerked out of his grip. With dismay Teal'c realized the blast didn't just hit the ship, something hit O'Neill too and slammed his body mercilessly against the metal plating. The arm that was not being held by Teal'c was smashed between body and metal and the already bleeding flank wound gushed forth leaving an imprint of spattered blood on the exterior of the ship.

With one mighty heave Teal'c pulled O'Neill inside causing them both to sprawl out on the floor. At once the hatch snapped shut and the ship moved rapidly upward into the atmosphere.

Suddenly the entire ship lurched and shook sending anything that wasn't tied down flying, unfortunately this included people. When the shuddering continued Jacob knew something was very wrong. He crawled his way forward to the pel'tac and immediately started checking over the controls and sensors. He murmured to himself when he could get no reading from the port stabilization array. After the third try he was miffed enough to go to the window and try to see visually if there was any damage. He was totally unprepared for what he saw; there was a large gaping hole in the side of the ship with flames and sparks spewing from it. The Jaffa's canon had left them no choice, they'd never make it out in space, they'd have to set down.

It was an extremely bumpy ride requiring both Jacob and the pilot's full concentration to get the ship down in one piece. After several more minutes of feeling like they were in a blender the ship suddenly and completely became still as it contacted solid ground.

By the time Jacob recovered enough to go to the back and check on the occupants most everyone was already up and trying to shake off the dizziness from the ride.

Jacob's eye swept over the group and found the one he'd not yet seen conscious. He shook his head at the awkward way he was laying; he'd been tossed like a rag doll during the descent. It raised the ire in Jacob that no one had looked out for him.

"Teal'c! You had charge of Khalil, how could you leave him like this?" Before the words were out of his mouth his eyes lowered to see what had captured the Jaffa's attention away from his charge. He was kneeling beside what looked like a pile of clothing pressing his bare hands against it. There was a trickle of bright red oozing from between his fingers. Jacob's eyes moved further and he noticed the tussled head of grey hair. Even with the face turned away he instantly knew who it was. "Oh, my God." He didn't even realize O'Neil had been hit. He raised a hand up for Teal'c to stay put and continue his ministrations while he tended to Khalil.

The Tok'ra leader was barely alive, and for a symbiote that was saying something. The host had been tortured mercilessly and Khalil had come to the point of giving up on any kind of restoration. Nearly every internal system was failing. The kidneys had already shut down and he couldn't feel his legs at all. A swollen and discolored abdomen was a testament to massive internal bleeding from the rupture of his spleen. It was hopeless. His sole aim now was merely to keep the heart pumping and the lungs exchanging air. The rest was beyond his ability.

After making sure Khalil at least looked comfortable and was straightened out, Jacob left his care to one of the other Tok'ra and went to see about Jack. Daniel was there with Teal'c now assessing the damage. One look at the young man's hooded eyes and the wet streaks down his face and Jacob knew it was bad.

The amount of damage that had occurred in a relatively short time was amazing. More so was the fact that the Colonel was here at all and not tossed nameless in some mass grave back at the Paka'a's compound.

Jacob spoke very quietly as if his voice might disturb the unconscious Colonel. "What are his injuries?"

Daniel shuddered and lowered his eyes. "Staff blast right side, I think it hit an artery, there's an awful lot of bleeding. Right arm broken, probably in more than one place. At least two or three broken ribs, dislocated knee and I think a skull fracture. Who knows what kind of internal bleeding. But the worst-" His face twitched and Jacob wondered just how much more he could possibly add to the list.

Jacob motioned to one of the Tok'ra who handed him a pack of medical supplies which he tore open and began assist Teal'c with the bleeding. Once the clothing had been moved out of the way the extent of the damage was more easily seen. The wound was large but not very deep except in one area where the blood was oozing out in a steady stream. One of the items in the med kit was a coagulant –soaked square of gauze and Jacob passed it to Teal'c to apply directly to the wound. A few minutes of direct pressure should seal the breach well enough until it could be dealt with later.

"You were saying?"

"He was hit by something maybe like a staff weapon but- " Daniel looked like he was going to throw up.

Teal'c intervened. "The canon. A focused point energy weapon of great power. Although the point of impact was the hull of the ship O'Neill was close enough to be thrown against it and scorched by the intense heat. Also large pieces of plating were blown free and one of them impacted directly over O'Neill's back cutting deeply into his spine."

"Shit." Jacob could do the math. Broken bones could be knit given time. Internal bleeding could be dealt with if it wasn't too severe. Even the staff blast wound would heal although it would likely leave a gargantuan scar. A spinal cord severed by shrapnel was something different. "Where?"

"Just below the shoulder blades, center back."

Jacob closed his eyes, even Selmac grieved. If, and that in itself was a big if, the Colonel lived, his legs would never serve him again. "Dammit, Jack."

"Good to see you, too." The croaking voice shocked all three of them. How could he possibly be awake?

Daniel's knuckles turned white where he was unconsciously clutching at O'Neill's shirt. "Don't try to talk. You need to rest."

"Rest? With you blabbering over me?" He coughed harshly several times and shuddered trying to keep himself from yelping from the pain. Amazingly it wasn't too bad, which he realized was a good indication that it was, in fact, very bad. Live nerve endings hurt, dead or missing ones did not.

He didn't try to speak again for a minute or protest when Daniel began to fuss over him and wipe his mouth of the spittle from his cough. It was no surprise at all to see the cloth soaked with blood. Add bruised lungs to the list. Yes, he'd heard it.

After what seemed like excessive cleaning to O'Neill, Jacob helped Daniel to raise him up a bit and offered a sip of water. "Don't swallow, just swish and spit. Get the blood out first then I'll give you more to drink."

O'Neill nodded and did as he was told. He didn't realize how dry his mouth had become and getting rid the coppery taste of his own blood was almost a pleasant sensation. Unfortunately drinking while lying flat on one's back was not easily done and he coughed and sputtered when a few drops went down the wrong way. "Help me sit up."

"That would be unwise, O'Neill."

"So is drowning me. Against the wall, sit me up." His face was pale but he was still able to glare as well as ever.

Reluctantly Daniel nodded. It took all three of them to move him since most of his body was dead weight, but soon they had him propped up and more or less supporting himself against the wall. The movement caused him excruciating pain and Daniel produced a syringe of morphine from his vest pocket. At first O'Neill waved it away but then nodded his approval. "Maybe just half, huh? I'd like to actually be awake for a little while." After the drug was given he reached out with the one limb that was still working and requested the water. He took a long drought and addressed Jacob. "We're on the ground, am I right?"

"Yeah, we took a hit. We managed to set down pretty far from the base so I don't think we'll have company anytime soon. We do need to get out and camouflage the ship as much as possible in case a patrol swings by."

"Daniel, Teal'c, that's your cue. Go see what you can do."

The younger man bristled. "I'm not leaving you alone. You need help."

O'Neill sighed; Daniel was just so `Daniel' sometimes. "You know, I appreciate the sentiment but I don't think there's much more you can do for me. However if those Jaffa spot us no one will be leaving here alive. Go help them."

Teal'c was already on his feet and leaned down to rest a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "We will return soon."

Collins and two of the Tok'ra were already outside assessing the damage to the ship and figuring out what cover they had available. As Daniel exited the craft Collins stopped what he was doing and caught his eye. He'd seen enough of O'Neill's condition to know what to expect. The two men stared at each other for only a second but it was enough to pass information between them. O'Neill? Bad. Alive? Yes, barely. His face paled another shade at the sight of the blood on Daniel's clothing; he knew it wasn't his.

Inside Jacob checked on all of the injured and was pleased to see none were worse for the abrupt landing. At least there was that. Khalil had actually managed to wake and verify the state of his host. He was himself injured as well and exhausted from the strain of providing total life support for the host body. It was doubtful he'd survive the trip home even if they were already on their way.

Jacob returned to O'Neill's side and sat with his back against the wall beside him with his knees drawn up and arms resting on them.

"I'm not gonna make it."

`You're a resilient guy. We'll get you home." His eyes were staring off into space.

"Jacob. Don't screw with me." O'Neill's voice was suddenly harsh and his eyes darkened. "I can't feel my legs." He glanced at the one foot that was lying awkwardly on its side due to his dislocated knee. "Hell, I can't feel more than half my body and I can barely move the little bit I *can* feel." He faltered for a moment then continued with an obvious catch in his voice, "I may be an irreverent ass most of the time but I'm not stupid. I just didn't think this would be my last mission."

Jacob stiffened slightly but didn't turn to his companion. He could hear the fear in the Colonel's voice and couldn't bear to see it as well. "You know those couple of times you called me `Dad'? I wasn't offended. In some ways you and I are closer than I am with my own son."

"We're both military, been taught to think along the same lines."

"Maybe. But I do think highly of you, despite the differences we've had. Being in here with Selmac has taught me some things about people and families and relationships." He paused then added quietly "Sam's gonna take it really hard."

He would have chuckled if he could. "Sam? She's happy where she is. Didn't I tell you that?"

"She doesn't have a clue. For all those brains my daughter can be a bit dense."

Now he did chuckle and immediately regretted it as he coughed again and sputtered, making Jacob jump to pat him on the shoulder and wipe at his mouth with a cloth. "Thanks." The very idea of putting Carter in the same sentence with the word `dense' was ridiculous.

"You know the SGC won't ever be the same." Jacob stifled a grin. "Quieter maybe, but not the same."

O'Neill realized this was coming uncomfortably close to a `goodbye' speech and changed the subject. "What about your Tok'ra buddy? You said that guy is some bigwig back home, how's he doin'?"

Jacob accepted the change in the direction of their conversation. "Not well, I'm afraid. I don't think he'll make it. Too bad, he's been around almost as long as Selmac, it will be a great loss."

There was a short silence between them and O'Neill had to ask the question. "You're not gonna offer me the snake?"

Jacob shook his head. "I know where you stand. It's your right. I don't hold anything against you for it."

"He's awake?"

"Yeah, a few minutes ago."

"I'd like to meet him." Jacob shot him a questioning look. "See why it was so important for us to come out here in the first place. That's all."

It proved to be easier to move Khalil than O'Neill, so after a few words passed between them and a look over toward the Tau'ri, Jacob and another of the Tok'ra moved Khalil over to where he and Jack could speak.

"Colonel O'Neill, this is Khalil. The host is- was Tamar. He is so far gone he is already dead. The body is functioning but only at a bare minimum. He may not be able to talk much but he's agreed to accept your company while we work on finding a way out of this mess."

O'Neill nodded as Jacob left then looked down at the prone man beside him. He was filthy of course from the conditions in the prison but the much of the dirt on his face was streaked clean where his tears had washed the grime away. As their eyes met O'Neill saw he was trying even now to blink back tears.

"You're in a lot of pain. Sorry we didn't come sooner."

Khalil shook his head very slightly and spoke surprisingly without the tone of a symbiote. "It is not the physical pain. I am able to block that."

O'Neill was confused; he thought Jacob said the host was already dead. But why then was Khalil talking like his host? "Who am I talking to, Khalil or Tamar?"

"Tamar is no more. I have not been able to contact his mind for some time now. I speak as he does because it is my custom to do so." He faltered and a few tears escaped his eyes. "He has a wonderfully rich voice does he not?"

O'Neill nodded though it was hard to tell with the `death rattle' that was there.

Khalil sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "I tried so hard to save him. So hard." He shook with emotion as he spoke. "But I can do no more. I am dying myself. " He blew out another breath. "He was a wonderful friend; what will his family think? They were assured he would have a long and fulfilling life as a Tok'ra. I promised them and now he is gone."

O'Neill was amazed to hear Khalil talk like this. It almost sounded like he loved his host. "But you still have his memories, right?" He tried not to think about his own impending fate and winced slightly. "What if you found another host?"

If there was any hint of an offer there Khalil missed it. He shook his head. "Of all the hosts I've had none compares to Tamar. He wasn't just intelligent and dedicated; he made me laugh. He knew how to have fun."

"Fun?"

"Yes, he could always make me laugh. He had an odd sense of humor but I couldn't help but laugh. I think I laughed more with him than with all of my previous hosts."

"So," O'Neill repeated himself, "if there *were* another available host?"

"It is always preferable to live. It would give me a chance to see his family and tell them how bravely he died, and how much he was loved."

O'Neill wondered to himself to a moment, `love' wasn't a word he associated with the Tok'ra in any way; well maybe with Jolinar and Martouf. But this love between the snake and host? Khalil was talking about Tamar as if he were his son!

"How did Tamar become your host in the first place?"

"We worked together. I was with my previous host a long time; he was quite old when I met Tamar. When it was time Tamar requested to blend with me. We have only been together six years, but I have felt more alive during those years than ever before."

O'Neill grimaced at the pain as well as the current direction of his thinking. "What do you know about us? The humans from Earth?"

"You may have a host for me among them?"

He stuttered a bit. "Uh, that would depend on the qualifications."

"At this point they would be few."

Jacob had returned and overheard some of their conversation. "Jack, are you even for a minute-"

O'Neill shrugged at him wincing at the pain it caused in his arm. "Things change."

"Holy Hannah!"

Selmac was overjoyed but Jacob was still in shock. He never EVER thought Jack would do it again. Never! Selmac took over control and spoke. "You realize it may be too late even now, you are both so weak."

"Well, its not like either of us has an overwhelming number of choices here is it?"

Khalil looked at him suddenly comprehending what it was they were actually discussing. "O'Neill, I do not believe I could heal your injuries any more than I can help Tamar. It is taking all of my energy just to talk to you."

"That's not what I had in mind. I'm not asking you to fix me; in fact I don't want you to. You need a way home and I'm in a position to do that for you, maybe buy you some time."

He turned back to Jacob. "Look, I don't like having debts. What I did with Kanan was for my benefit and despite how badly it turned out- " He rolled his eyes upward. "I did get my life back, so I kinda owe you, the Tok'ra something. One thing though- when it's over I expect what's left to be returned to Earth. I'm not being buried on some back-ass water planet God knows where."

Khalil nodded trying to take in all the information he was being given so quickly. He had a million questions. This man had been a host before? Why did he not know of this, and what then of Kanan? Why would he offer himself but only for a short while? What happened when he was blended before? He wished he knew more of this Kanan, but they were barely acquainted, their paths had so rarely crossed.

Besides all of the questions Khalil had, it was a most odd proposition to deal with someone who honestly seemed to want nothing for himself. He found it quite sad and made his decision. "This arrangement is acceptable. I will try."

O'Neill nodded in reply. "Ask Daniel and Teal'c to come in here would you?"

They both knew something was up; they could see it in Jacob's face the moment they saw him.

"What! I thought after Kanan- Jack I was there. I saw what that did to you, what happened."

`Yeah, well I was there too, and yeah, it sucked. It's not the same situation this time; I'm not expecting anything except-" He stopped and glanced at Khalil, "that when it's over, it's over for good."

Daniel's face fell and he bit his lower lip. "You're giving up aren't you?"

The silence was more of an answer than O'Neill had intended and it struck home to all of them.

"I'm staying." Daniel folded his arms across his chest; his voice was not harsh or demanding, just matter-of-fact.

Teal'c glanced at the young man and struck a similar pose. "As will I."

O'Neill wasn't up for an audience but he was too tired to care. "Fine."

Jacob let Daniel and Teal'c move the Colonel to a side-lying position facing Khalil while he helped the Tok'ra turn to face his soon–to-be new host.

Just as their eyes met mere inches away from each other O'Neill grimaced. He could suddenly recall the blending with Kanan and the taste of its slime in his mouth. "You guys have really *got* to come up with a better way of doing this."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kiss you."

That thought was worse than the slime thing.

"Just yawn or something."

"Or *something*? How many times have you done this?"

Khalil was getting a touch impatient, he'd already severed most of his connection with Tamar and was eager to complete the procedure. With one last supreme effort he forced the hosts hand to move and grasped O'Neill's broken arm.

"Ow!"

That was all the opportunity that was needed; Khalil jumped from Tamar into O'Neill's mouth in a flash.

O'Neill reacted by coughing and sputtering as was expected but then suddenly grabbed his head with his left hand. "Oh God! My head!" He stifled several gasps of pain and rolled onto his back. "Shit! Jacob!"

His eyes opened and he scanned the room for the elder Tok'ra. After another wave of excruciating pain he was able to talk. "Aren't I supposed to pass out or something?"

Selmac answered. "Try to relax, Khalil is very weak; perhaps he is unable to overcome your reflex to resist."

"I swear, I'm, not resisting! Oh God, my head's gonna explode!" With that he jerked to his side and began to thrash. When he rolled back the staff blast wound was bleeding bright red again and Daniel rushed to his side.

Selmac tossed a package of gauze dressings to Daniel and called Teal'c over. "Hold him."

Teal'c held O'Neill's body still and Selmac cradled his head in his hands as Daniel worked. The Colonel was still awake and in obvious pain but exhaustion was getting the better of him; at least he was a little more calm. Selmac gently wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. "I believe this blending will fail."

Daniel frowned and looked at his friend. "So that's it?" Neither Selmac nor Teal'c spoke.

After a bow of his head Jacob returned. "I know it's hard to accept but I doubt if Khalil is able to do anything at all; in fact it looks like he's made matters worse. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let them do it."

Suddenly O'Neill stiffened his whole body and jerked his head back then went completely limp and unconscious.

Inside his head O'Neill heard a soft voice. `Be calm. I am here. Rest now.' The voice was strained but oddly reassuring. He was too tired to fight it anyway and fell into a deep sleep.

"Is he dead?" Daniel said with a sob at the sight of the completely still figure. Jacob slid his fingers down and felt for a pulse. "Alive, but not by much. He's probably in a coma; too much damage to his brain."

Jacob decided their best bet would be to head for his still hidden cargo ship. He estimated the distance at several miles but the forest was less dense here and he was sure they could do it in less than a day even with the injured slowing them down. Selmac debated the issue of moving O'Neill with the other Tok'ra and decided they would have to do it, waiting would probably only bring death anyway. A makeshift stretcher was put together and they set off with Teal'c and one of the Tok'ra carrying O'Neill and Daniel walking along beside them observing for any change in his condition.

Almost a full day later they found the ship where they'd left it. Selmac had one of the Tok'ra launch the glider just ahead of their departure as both a scout and distraction in the event they were spotted. Under the cover of darkness they made their escape.

The first stop would be the Tok'ra base and hopefully medical help for both O'Neill and Khalil. Unfortunately the Tok'ra physicians found no evidence of a blending, only the presence of a symbiote body. Since it seemed O'Neill wasn't healing any faster than he would on his own, which was barely at all, they determined Khalil was dead. Even the use of a healing device only stabilized O'Neill and had no effect on the symbiote. All they did was prolong the inevitable. Given O'Neill's grave injuries they decided it would kill him to remove the symbiote so they left it where it was to decompose. All they could do was return O'Neill to the Tau'ri for them to care for him until he died.

A few days later at the SGC…

Carter walked the long halls of the SGC swinging her bag and actually whistling, she had a great time while she was away. Tony's family turned out to be really quite nice, though not impressed by her status in the Air Force or anything else that even hinted that she had a brain. They *were* impressed that Tony had finally found himself a `looker', and called her `cutie' and `babe' more times than she could count. She had an odd feeling of their idea of a perfect wife was the `barefoot and pregnant' thing. Still, they were nice and she liked them.

Her first clue that something might not be right was the look on Daniel's face when she almost ran into him. It wasn't just that he didn't seem glad to see her; he looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

"Daniel, what is it?"

"Sam, we- we had a mission while you were gone. You need to go talk to Hammond."

Her eyes searched his for a clue. "Where's Colonel O'Neill?"

When Daniel's eyes fell her feet were set in motion on their own. She literally stormed into Hammond's office, still carrying her bag and briefcase.

"Major?" Hammond tried to keep his voice even, he knew she'd just gotten back and had no idea of recent events. Without waiting for her to start questioning him, he gestured to the chair. "Close the door. Please."

She grimaced. This was going to be bad.

The grimace turned to shock as the General related all he knew of the past several days. By the time he was done she was as pale as the papers littering his desk.

It was an effort to go by her lab first but she did, though only to drop off her things. Something was bothering her perhaps even more than what Hammond had said, it was the *way* he said it. It had only been a few days and he certainly should have some faith in O'Neill's resiliency. She wondered if Hammond had left something out. The whole thing sounded like a nightmare. Rescue mission gone bad. O'Neill was hurt and somehow, unbelievably, became a host. Said symbiote dies, leaving said Colonel in worse shape than before. So why was Hammond acting like he'd never come back? Just how hurt was he?

The first thing she sensed when she walked in the room was the presence of a Goa'uld. She had to shake herself to remember it was just the Naquadah in his blood, not a live symbiote. He didn't look all that bad considering, but then hospital sheets can cover a multitude of injuries. She did note the cast on his right arm and the way his pasty coloring made him almost disappear into the sheets. Not very much like the man she knew.

She stood at the beside a long time just looking down at him and trying to understand how things could have gotten so messed up in such a short time. For Christ sakes she was only gone two weeks! She tried to ignore a growing niggling thought in the back of her mind that maybe, just maybe this all wouldn't have happened if she'd been there, with her team, with her CO.

She jumped when a gentle hand touched her shoulder.

"Sam, honey. I didn't know you were back. Why don't you sit down?"

Carter turned into the sound of the voice and was met with the ever- present soft smile of her friend. Too late she blinked and a tear broke loose from her eye and she briskly wiped it away. "Janet, how did this happen? I mean General Hammond has told me all the details but this- "She gestured to the bed "How *could* this have happened?"

"You probably know more than I do right now; all my information is related to his current physical condition, not how he got that way."

"So he was blended again?"

"Yes, apparently something went wrong at the very beginning. Your father was there, did the General tell you that?"

Carter shook her head. If he did it was one of those pieces of information that gets lost when you're overwhelmed by too much input at one time.

"Well he was. He said there was nothing they could do, that sometimes when symbiote and host are both ill or stressed, blendings fail."

"Yeah, it was something Selmac said before she blended with my Dad, she told him it may not work because of them both being so weak."

"Right. He said this was explained to the Colonel. He went into this with a full understanding of the possible consequences."

Carter looked down suddenly to hide a sudden rush of emotion. She spoke quietly, "I'd really like to know *why* he did it. After what happened before I just can't believe he'd do it again to save himself. He barely agreed to the blending with Kanan and after how that turned out-" She crossed her arms in front of her chest and turned away, suddenly feeling the guilt for her part in the Colonel having to go through all he did.

"I don't know, Jacob wasn't very specific about that, he only said both of them were very badly injured." She paused the said, "Sam, you should know this will be over soon. You can spend as much time with him as you like."

"What do you mean? He's stable isn't he?"

Frasier realized Hammond hadn't broken the really bad news; as usual it was left up to her. "Stable, yes, for a short time. They used a healing device on him to see if it could help the symbiote but it was too late, all they managed to do was temporarily stabilize the Colonel. He is still gravely ill and getting worse. The symbiote is still within him, Jacob said it would probably kill him straight away if they tried to remove it. Problem is, now it's decomposing and flooding his system with toxins that he can't handle right now considering his other injuries. It will soon shut him down completely. Even if it weren't there he'd die anyway." Her head dropped. "I'm sorry, Sam, there's nothing I can do."

Carter took two steps back and when her knees hit the edge of a chair she immediately dropped to the seat. "He can't-"

Frasier rushed to her and hugged the now heaving shoulders. "Shhh. I know."

Sam sat by the bed listening to the almost musical soft beeping of the machines and watching the only movement, a slight rise and fall of the sheet every time the man before her took a shallow breath. Somewhere between nodding off and being wide awake with anticipation every time one of the machines changed it's rhythm she began to think again about her life and what she'd been missing. This time she missed out on something big. Add to that the guilt for not being there and you had the makings of a really, really deep regret.

She was so tired of this re-evaluation of her priorities she was doing lately yet she couldn't help but let her mind wander here in this sterile little room with no projects or equations to occupy her mind. It was just after 1 AM when she realized she'd forgotten her date with Tony. She reprimanded herself for being so selfish; she should have cancelled when she realized she wouldn't be leaving the SGC that night.

That thought struck her oddly. In fact she didn't know just when she'd *be* leaving. She glanced around the room and smiled at the people who'd joined her late night vigil. Daniel was asleep with his head resting on the foot of the bed and Teal'c, though she knew it wasn't Kel-no-reem, was seated in a cross-legged position with his back against the wall, breathing slowly and deeply. Even Janet was still there tonight working late since Cassie was at a sleepover with friends.

God, she loved these people. She and Tony had discussed this very thing.

She'd already recognized she needed to get back to some of her projects on hold in her lab and that she wasn't exactly being much of a `friend' to her friends and needed to do something about it. Tony noticed she'd seemed a bit melancholy one afternoon and they'd had a long discussion about it. He wondered when she was going to start missing her friends and `wimp' out on him. She was surprised to find he really didn't have a problem with easing off just a little. He was retired out of the military and only worked part-time now but it did require him to travel, something he'd been putting off since being with her. All they needed was a little coordination and she should be able to schedule time for work and her friends at the SGC and still see him on a regular basis when he was in town.

Little did she know there was a crisis brewing and she'd need to set that plan in motion immediately. She let her eyes follow the lines of the sheet and stopped to gaze at the face of her CO. She felt a pinch in her heart. What had she been doing while he was infiltrating a Goa'uld base and getting himself nearly killed? Was it eating barbecue or was it the afternoon they went to the pool? She rubbed a hand over her face. Dammit. She should have been there for him.

She shook herself internally, not for him, for the *team*. That thought caused another surge of guilt. Had she even considered Daniel or Teal'c might have been hurt too? She glanced back at them. They certainly looked healthy enough but she couldn't be certain. The second part of her guilt was that even now her foremost thought had been of the Colonel, like she was still tied to him in some way. Hadn't they decided to put that all behind them? So why was it bothering her now? He was a good friend and her CO and he was dying, so it was normal for her thoughts to dwell on him, right?

Her shoulders slumped. Somehow she couldn't quite answer that question. Suddenly the nice, neat little package she'd wrapped her life up in was turned inside out. She put her head down on the side of the bed and let her tears flow silently. Whether it was due to guilt or the stress of the day it didn't matter. Suddenly she missed Tony very much.

O'Neill made it through that night and the next and the next. The members of SG-1 settled into a routine, Frasier and her nurses herded everyone out in the mornings to bathe and do other personal care for the Colonel, Teal'c returned in the afternoon and Daniel in the evenings. Sam would stop by early just to check in then come back while Daniel was there, though not every night; when she did she'd stay quite late, more than once falling asleep with her head on the bed.

Several days later Frasier was in General Hammond's office with a frown on her face. "Doctor I would never presume to tell you how to do your job but it is clear from these reports that what we thought would be over quickly could become quite drawn out."

"Sir! This is Colonel O'Neill we are talking about! Just because he hasn't died yet-"

"And he has stabilized in his current state. You said yourself there was so much brain damage from the skull fracture and the symbiote he may never come out of the coma. We need to consider long-term care, that's all I'm saying. Petersen Hospital would be well equipped to handle him. And no, I don't want to see this happen either; I just can't commit the resources of this facility to something that can and should be handled in another way. You've sent many patients there before; why are you so against this?"

She didn't have an answer for him. Something was bothering her about O'Neill and the whole situation involving him. Part of her just couldn't give up on a good man but her gut told her she was missing something important. "Okay, yes, we don't know how long he may hold out; but for now he does still have the remnants of a symbiote within him. I insist he stay here until it is fully dissolved. All we'd need is for some yahoo-intern to decide to do a follow up CT scan and see it."

"Granted." Hammond was so glad this encounter was over. "I'm not in a rush to send him off, but it will be better for everyone to get back to business. She nodded. Of course he was talking about SG-1 who'd been on stand down all this time. It was Hammond's intention to keep them there as long as O'Neill was on the base; he knew they'd never be able to keep their minds on a mission if he gave them one.

Grateful for the reprieve, Frasier made a beeline to the infirmary to check on her patient. Sometimes it was therapeutic to her to go through the simple tasks of bedside care and she often assisted her nurses even with the `little' things.

This morning she checked O'Neill's vital signs and dutifully entered them into his chart supposedly to be reviewed by herself at a later time. When one of the nurses came in with a box of dressing change materials she decided to stay and help with that as well. The staff blast wound had healed minimally, it was so deep it should have required surgery and now given the circumstances she was reconsidering it. If he was going to be around a while she'd make damn sure she'd do what she could to help even a little piece of him improve.

When she removed the dressing she got a shock. She had to double check to make sure this was the right spot. The skin beneath the bandage was pink and healthy; there wasn't even a scar. She only had to think about it for a minute and ordered a STAT ultrasound.

She knew the ultrasound was far less accurate than either the CT or MRI but it was a lot faster than those other more involved tests. Besides, she could do it herself and not wait for a technician to get some preliminary results.

Her eye caught something odd almost immediately, the symbiote had been slowly decreasing in size but in the image before her it looked like there were some tendrils in parts of his brain where they hadn't been before. Perhaps it was just the symbiote body breaking up as it was being absorbed. Suddenly she stopped and stared hard at the scanner. She saw something she would never have seen on one of the other tests- movement.

She quickly ordered a full round of blood tests and an MRI. She didn't leave his side until he was moved into the room containing the magnetic imager and even then sat watching him from the observation area, twiddling a pen in her fingers with nervous energy.

While waiting for the results to come in she lowered her head into her hands and closed her eyes for a moment. Could it possibly be what she suspected?

She felt rather than heard someone enter the room and sit quietly beside her. Carter's voice was only a whisper. "I've been looking all over for you, they said something happened a little while ago. Is he- is it over?"

Her voice was barely audible as she spoke the last few words. Frasier suddenly realized maybe she should be telling at least certain people what was going on- even if she wasn't sure just yet. She raised her head and smiled at the woman beside her. "No, honey. He's not worse. I'm not sure I'd call it better exactly."

Carter shook her head, "What do you mean?"

Frasier took her hands and spoke slowly and deliberately. "The symbiote is not dead."

"It has to be. They said-"

"I know what they said, but maybe it was in some kind of hibernation since it was too weak to do anything. And-" She looked the Major in the eyes, "I think it's trying to complete the blending."

Carter didn't know if she should be horrified or thrilled. "Does General Hammond know?"

"Nobody but us." The technician signaled the MRI was complete and Frasier stood. "I'm gonna look over those results then call the General. I'm pretty certain what it will show. You can stay if you like, they'll have him back in his room in a minute."

Sam nodded still in shock then gazed through the glass at the body being wheeled out of the room. When he was back in the infirmary bed and settled she did as Janet suggested and went to sit with him. She tried to tell if there was any difference than what she felt before of the Naquadah in his blood, but there seemed to be no change.

Inside the still body O'Neill was awake. He had been off and on for more than a day now. At first he was disturbed to realize he wasn't alone. He remembered Kanan vividly and this feeling was so similar it frightened him that it might be happening again. The only difference was that Kanan always seemed to keep a certain amount of distance between the two of them, Khalil did not; which in itself was a disconcerting feeling.

When he first woke he felt as though he was a small child being rocked awake by his mother. Khalil spoke to him very gently and quietly, knowing how startling it can be to hear a voice inside one's own head. `You are safe. You were injured badly but now you are healing. It will be some time before you will wake enough to open your eyes but it is all right, your friends are caring for you.'

O'Neill slowly remembered what happened. `Khalil?'

`Yes.'

`How long?'

`Many weeks.'

That response forced O'Neill to cringe. `It wasn't supposed to be this way. That wasn't our deal.'

`I know.'

With the unexpected openness of the symbiotes mind O'Neill knew instantly what Khalil was feeling; remorse for subjecting this human to something he knew he did not really want, and shame for giving in to the desperation to save himself.

`The blending almost failed. The damage to your spinal column caused a loss of cerebral spinal fluid, which I require to live. That is why it was so painful at first; I was unaware of that injury. I know you did not want any `repairs' but I was forced to accomplish that one or die immediately. It was the only injury from which you had no hope of recovery and I knew if I repaired it you would survive, though you would not be whole as you once were. That was also not our `deal.' Afterward I was so weakened I was near death; I put myself into an extended state of dormancy in which to heal myself first. Then when I was able I began to work on you. Forgive me, but I could not leave you in this condition. After what you have done for me. As you say, I owed you.'

This was a lot of information to process. O'Neill expected to be dead, as in `dead' from his injuries, but instead he was- where? In the SGC and apparently, under the care of Frasier and her staff.

`Don't think I don't appreciate this but-`

`When you are healed I will leave.'

The idea of going back to work at the SGC was not entirely pleasant. Who knew what changes there had been? How long was he gone anyway? `Many weeks' could mean anything. Was SG-1 even a team anymore? He felt a sudden wave of sorrow when he remembered where Carter was during the rescue mission. Maybe there wasn't any reason for him to go back anymore.

O'Neill stopped himself and thought about it. For the first time he considered what it might be like to be someone, something different. Someone who could make more of a difference against the Goa'uld without the constraints of his obligations back home. If he had a family, or even just someone to go home to, it might be different, still, it was a snake and a deal's a deal.

O'Neill felt the sadness of the symbiote and spoke to him. `You've got to realize I've been just me for a long time, I'm used to saying what I think and I'm used to being pretty straightforward.' He paused for a long time. `I do understand the potential advantages.'

He suddenly sensed a ray of hope in the symbiote. `Are many of you so easy to read?'

Khalil relaxed a bit. `No, I don't think even Selmac is as open as I am. It is something that has worked well for me, if it upsets you I can increase the barrier between us.'

`No, don't. I just need to get used to it. Why do you do it?'

`I owe my life to you. Besides it would be so much more pleasant if we were friends as well as co-inhabitants.'

A little flag of mistrust went up in O'Neill's mind. `Honey and vinegar.'

Khalil paused a moment to glean additional information from O'Neill's mind. `Yes, perhaps.'

`So you're not really that different, not even from the Goa'uld.'

O'Neill felt the hurt hit Khalil like a knife and instantly regretted his statement. `Sorry, it just seems…'

`I know. I am what I am. A parasite. But I can choose to not be that parasitical today. If the wall stays down there can be a true symbiosis with both partners reaping the rewards.'

O'Neill was suddenly inundated with images and feelings of Khalil and his last host Tamar. He was awe-struck, they were almost one being they were so close and cared for each other so much. When they switched control of the body there was almost no outward sign of it the transition was so smooth, and Khalil rarely ever spoke with the timbre of a symbiote, preferring the sound of the host's voice to his own.

`Be aware there are dark places within me, I will not hide these if you choose to look there.'

`I'm not all hearts and flowers myself. I guess its fair you should know what you've gotten yourself into.'

Khalil noticed the pun and wondered how intentional it had been. In an instant he knew it was and smiled; humor, he loved it; could it be he'd found another human with a penchant for it?

O'Neill felt Khalil moving closer to him and forced himself to not react. He let his mind momentarily drift across his past; fleeting images of growing up and joining the Air Force; the first time he flew a plane, his marriage to Sarah and the birth of Charlie and all the good times they'd had before the military took it's toll on him. The images degraded to the torture at the hands of Baal first then back to the prison in Iraq and the numerous Black Ops he'd been involved in. Finally he recalled Charlie and the mixture of sadness and elation he felt whenever he thought about him. He didn't dwell on any one thing for long.

Khalil shrank back from the horrors this human had lived through. The feelings of Charlie were so extreme, such a mixture of good times and bad. He silently requested to see more of the good. O'Neill complied with many memories of baseball and hockey games, cuddling on the couch and watching TV. Then there were the early years of his marriage to Sarah when they were still giddy in love with each other. There was something more in this area of O'Neill's heart, much more subtle yet just as intense, Khalil recognized the face of Jacob's daughter.

`Don't go there.' O'Neill warned.

`Why? You love her.'

`I can't.' The regulations and all the possible consequences flooded his mind momentarily making Khalil pull back again.

`Duty before self? You are much more noble than you believe. I will-` He paused, `leave it, in the room as you wish.'

`Actually, no I'm not.' The conversation he'd had with Carter regarding Tony flashed through his mind. `I'm not sure I want to go back and face that.'

An eyebrow on O'Neill's face twitched in response to Khalil. He knew this could be a defining moment in O'Neill's decision to remain together with him. Still the man deserved to know. `Are you certain?'

`What? That I'm not keen on the idea of torturing myself daily by working with someone whom I care about but who does not return those feelings?' He figured he might as well lay it all on the line, Khalil knew it anyway.

`Are we talking about the same woman?'

`What kind of stupid question-`

`This one?'

In the infirmary the body in the bed was still deep in a coma, but suddenly his eyelids fluttered and for just a split second he opened his eyes. And looked straight at Carter.

"I swear Janet, he opened his eyes! He looked at me and he recognized me. I'm sure of it."

"Sam, I don't think you should get your hopes up. Even if the symbiote is working on him, he's not just going to sit up and say `hi' then go back into the coma. If, when he wakes up it will be slowly, a little bit at a time. I'll tell you what. let's put him on the EEG and see. Since the symbiote is alive there should be two distinct brain wave patterns. It will give us a good idea of how well Colonel O'Neill is doing."

Carter waited with growing anticipation for the Doctor to set up the device and attach the electrodes to O'Neill's head. As soon as she finished she flipped a switch and the screen lit up with a jumble of brightly colored squiggles. In a moment Frasier had the images separated and on two different screens. "Here, this one must be O'Neill." She pointed to the lesser tracing. "You see how the height of the waves never goes above this point? That's a clear indication of coma. Actually he does have a fair amount of activity, if this continues I'd say he's got a pretty good chance of coming out of it."

Carters face lit up. For a moment she completely forgot about the second brain wave pattern and what it's presence meant.

O'Neill was incensed. `I thought you said it would be a while before I could open my eyes?'

`That is correct.'

When O'Neill responded with only a flash of raw anger Khalil continued. `Your mind is currently unable to connect with your physical body, however, it is not beyond my capabilities.'

`You mean get up and walk around?'

`I could, but I would not do that. It would be-` He searched for the right word. `Disrespectful.'

`Thank God for small favors. Promise you'll never go running off with me when I'm not looking. Now, why did I just see Carter?'

`She has been here a great deal; shed tears right here on your bed. I thought you should know.'

`Oh.' The idea of Carter crying on his bed was unsettling. `She's been here a lot?'

`She comes and goes. Several times she has stayed all night.'

O'Neill thought of Tony only for a split second then decided a change of subject was in order. `So what do I do to wake up?'

Khalil smiled. `Just rest. It will be soon.' O'Neill felt as though something warm enveloped him; in a moment he was asleep.

Two days later the eyelids fluttered again, this time at the behest of their original owner. Slowly O'Neill opened his eyes and squinted at he bright light above him. Why the hell did they always have to do that?

Immediately the light dimmed and he saw the cheerful face of Doctor Frasier smiling back at him. "Colonel? There you are! Decided to join us did you?"

He could barely nod but the slight effort was enough to make her grin broaden. "It's Okay. You don't have to talk. Want to try some water?"

He nodded again and she brought a cup to his lips. She knew a straw would be too much for him right now and so she tilted the half-full cup into his mouth with one hand and slightly lifted his head with the other. The feel of the cool liquid going down his throat was wonderful after so long with only his own meager saliva for lubrication. She let him drain the cup before settling his head back on the pillow. "Thanks."

"I did say something about not talking."

"Said I didn't *have* to." He mumbled.

"I stand corrected. Your throat probably feels a little scratchy. It's not just the dryness; I've resorted to feeding you through a tube. That's what you feel in the back of your throat."

"Hmm." Strange sensation. Don't remember ever having that done before. Get a new T-shirt.

Inside, Khalil gave a slight indication that he had a question. O'Neill's comprehension and response was immediate. He explained using a flash of images. Going on vacation. Racks of brightly colored T-shirts, most with outrageous graphics designs in some way depicting an aspect of the location or an event. Wearing the T-shirt later and being pleasantly reminded of the `vacation'.

Khalil nodded with only minimal understanding before he was shown Ferretti jesting about a nearly failed mission. "Been there, done that, got the T-shirt."

He nodded again. This brand of humor was interesting to say the least. He understood sarcasm but never realized how easily it could be used to convey humor or even pain and make a point at the same time. This human was obviously a master at it.

"Colonel?" Frasier was leaning in closer to him, looking concerned. "Are you all right? How are you feeling?"

"Peachy."

She cocked an eyebrow and squinted one eye at him. For a moment there he looked like he was a million miles away. Frasier wasn't naïve where the symbiote was concerned, she was fully aware of its presence; she just wasn't quite ready to address that issue yet. "We've got a few housekeeping things to do and I'd like you to stay awake for as long as you can. I'll call General Hammond and tell him you're awake and Teal'c should be around any minute now."

He reached out and touched her arm before she turned away. "Carter?"

Frasier looked down momentarily. "She'll be here later, I'm sure."

She immediately rang the General's office and gave him the news. O'Neill could hear her side of the conversation.

"Yes, Sir. As far as I can tell they're both doing well though I haven't spoken to-"

"All right. You'll get no arguments from me there, I'd just as soon not deal with that on my own anyway."

"Yes, they're here. He's had constant monitoring since I first contacted you." O'Neill's eyes slid from one side of the room to the other. SF's, two big ones, had to be Marines. What did they think he was going to do, attack Frasier and take over the base?

The thoughts were actually a combination of his own and Khalil's, but then O'Neill added his own footnote. `It's a normal, prudent precaution. I'd order it myself if they weren't here.'

`You don't trust me.'

`Not yet. We're used to a lot of security and protocols down here; it's up to you to prove it's not necessary.'

An hour later Frasier had removed all the tubes except a single IV and both Teal'c and Daniel were fussing over him; both were a bit restrained considering the amount of time that passed and all that had occurred, but they were still able to recall in great detail seeing Khalil enter his body. He seemed so normal to them, yet they new better.

After several minutes Daniel couldn't hold back his curiosity. "How's your, um, passenger?"

"Fine. Really better than me right now."

"You are not under duress?" Teal'c got right to the point.

"From him? Nah. Apparently we were both in pretty bad shape he's still busy working on repairs." He raised his voice slightly, "Frasier *could* however get this cast off me, it's not necessary anymore."

She raised her head up from her desk and glared at him. "I'll be the judge of that. We'll do another x-ray later this afternoon. Soon enough, Colonel?"

He shrugged at the barb and turned back to Daniel just as General Hammond entered the room.

"Colonel, good to see you up. You cut this one a little close."

"Irish luck can't hold out forever, I guess I was due."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." This was getting monotonous.

Hammond took a breath and frowned. "How is, the uh-"

O'Neill glowered at him. He couldn't believe Jacob hadn't told anyone the symbiotes name. It was like he had a disease, not a living breathing, well kinda, other being inside him. "Snake? His name is Khalil, and he's *fine* too."

The General's eyes softened a little, allowing his non-military persona to come through. "Of course. Khalil is it? I don't know if you are aware of it but when you were returned to us we were told the symbiote was dead. You were knocking at death's door yourself; so as you can see we're quite surprised this is happening."

"No more than I am, believe me."

"Yes, Jacob told me the original plan. Can't say I would have approved it, but here we are." He paused and lowered his eyes for a moment then looked back at the Colonel. "Jack, I need to talk to Khalil."

It suddenly dawned on O'Neill this would be a first. Even with his previous `possessions' he'd never relinquished control while conscious. His eyes fell and he answered with a less than confident, "Sure."

At once he felt Khalil's presence strengthen but the symbiote did not attempt to override O'Neill's control. Instead there was simply a feeling of warmth and relaxation.

`Are we gonna do that weird head nod thing?' O'Neill asked.

He felt the symbiote's amusement, `It does not have to be so. Just close you eyes and relax. Then expect to feel your eyes open without doing it yourself. It is the first step to a smooth transition. Remember what I showed you with Tamar.'

Internally O'Neill accepted Khalil's challenge. Their relationship was very different from the one Khalil had with his previous host but having access to those memories helped. He glanced at his team then back at Hammond and slowly closed his eyes.

A moment later those eyes opened unbidden by O'Neill. It was so odd to see through them but not control where he looked. Like suddenly his whole body was on autopilot, every movement being done without thought. At least *his* thought. The experience reminded him of someone sleepwalking.

"General Hammond, it is an honor."

Hammond knit his brow and let his mouth drop open slightly. He glanced at Daniel then Teal'c and back to his 2IC. He didn't know what to think; there was no head bow, no unusual depth to the voice and most certainly no flash in the eyes. The man had simply blinked. The only possible giveaway was a slight change in the facial expression.

"Am I speaking to Khalil?"

"You are."

"Jack, is this some kind of joke?" Daniel interrupted.

"I am not attempting to engage in humor at this time."

Daniel shook his head and blew out a breath from his cheeks, "That's not Jack."

"Excuse me," Hammond said, "we're used to having a little more outward sign; are you sure?"

Irritation rose like a flood in Khalil. He internally muttered a quick `forgive me' to his host then squared his shoulders and glared at the General. As his anger swelled his eyes flashed momentarily. He answered with the full strength of his combined voice, "I am sure."

Immediately he calmed himself and let his wrath go. He returned to his previous state and used the softer voice of O'Neill when he spoke again. "I dislike intimidation. I would prefer you not ask me to do that again."

Sufficiently chastised Hammond nodded his head. He took a moment to recover from the shock of seeing the instantaneous transformation. "As you wish. I've taken the liberty of contacting the Tok'ra regarding your resurrection as it were. They're sending someone out as soon as they can. They are quite anxious to have you back."

"The intelligence I was able to obtain was less than we'd hoped, and as all these weeks have passed much of its relevance may be negated by now. I can only hope I can still be of service to my people."

"I'm sure it's not just the Intel they're interested in. Jacob told me how important you are to them."

"Perhaps, but the mission, a mission under my command, was a failure. It is something I do not take lightly."

Hammond nodded his understanding. "Until the Tok'ra representative gets here I'd like you to stay in the infirmary. I'm sure the good Doctor isn't through with you anyway and it would be best for all concerned."

"I assure you I pose no security risk."

Hammond had already turned to leave, suddenly uncomfortable in the presence of his 2IC. He stopped a moment and spoke over his shoulder. "Sir, right now you are unknown and therefore your very presence here is a risk. Until you are debriefed to my satisfaction that is how it has to be. I don't suppose I can order you to cooperate, but unless more has changed than I know, I can still order your host if need be."

Khalil sat back and watched the General leave. "I suppose you would like to speak with O'Neill now."

Daniel shook his head, "Not necessarily, I mean if Jack's okay with it, you could stay a while. Anything you'd like to talk about?"

"Yes. Where is Major Carter?"

"She's, um, she's off the base right now, why?"

Khalil lied. "I understand she is working with Naquadria, I'd like to discuss the instability problem with her."

Hours later the Tok'ra representative showed up. Hammond was pleased to see Jacob return. "This is getting to be a habit, Jacob." He drawled out as he grasped his friend's hand.

"Don't I know it? Happier circumstances this time, huh? Let's go see our boy."

While they were waiting for Jacob's arrival Frasier had removed the cast and allowed the Colonel to change clothes. He was escorted to the briefing room and walked in looking like the same Jack O'Neill who had entered that room a hundred times before.

The briefing went quickly and Jacob had to agree with Khalil, the information was less than they'd hoped. Still they'd find a way to make good use of it. The next order of business was what to do about the blending.

"Of course we are prepared to separate host and symbiote. We do not currently have an available host so it will require a period of stasis."

Khalil was not pleased at all, in fact the mere thought of stasis made him cringe. "I understand. I will defer to the wishes of O'Neill as our initial bargain has become complicated. I have already asked too much of him." With that he closed his eyes firmly and relinquished control to O'Neill.

The Colonel resumed his place blinking several times as if startled. "Whoa, he's not happy. Jake you're not really gonna put him in a tank are you?"

"There isn't much choice, you're not going to keep him." Suddenly Jacob noted that same look in O'Neill's eye he saw back on Paka'as planet. "Or are you?"

Hammond was taken aback. "Jacob?"

Jacob ignored the other General and said to O'Neill. "It may only be a matter of days, but it will likely be much longer. Also you should know the longer a symbiote is blended with a particular host, the stronger the connection becomes."

"You mean we could both die if we separate?" O'Neill lowered his eyes and pressed his lips together. "Isn't that always a possibility? I don't want to see him put in stasis. He has some pretty bad memories of it and I can relate since I've been `frozen' myself."

Hammond was surprised to say the least, "Colonel, am I hearing you right? Are you considering this even though it would likely be permanent?"

"Let's just say it's on the table."

"It would take you away from here, from SG-1."

"Why? The Tok'ra have their human ambassador in Jacob. Why shouldn't we have a Tok'ra ambassador here?"

Both Generals stared back at him without an answer. Hammond spoke first. "You've been giving this some thought haven't you? I'll have to get with the president before any decision like that could be even considered. You do have a point though, but I don't know how it would work out."

"Me neither. And I'm not saying that's what I want to do, not yet."

"Maybe a trial period?" Jacob suggested. "We'll keep looking for a replacement host and as long as it doesn't take too long the option will remain open. What does Khalil think?"

O'Neill smiled lopsidedly, "Oh, he likes the idea; anything's better than being put on ice I guess. He's happy as a clam in here." On hearing the word `ambassador' Khalil had literally wiggled with excitement.

With a little hesitation on the part of the Joint Chiefs the plan was approved. O'Neill could serve in his usual place as commander of SG-1 pending permanent placement of Khalil. The deciding factor was that the blending was complete and as such all O'Neill's knowledge was already compromised. Besides that, one Air Force officer was currently in the service of aliens via Jacob Carter; no one wanted to make it two. The only stipulation was no first contact or front line missions. O'Neill didn't like the idea of being on `cake' runs for two weeks but he accepted their conditions. All he needed was an `Okay' from Frasier to return to work.

Sam Carter stalked through the halls of the SGC fuming at herself. She couldn't believe it. She *missed it* again. Not only was the Colonel awake, he was up walking around, talking and apparently being reinstated to active duty and command of SG-1 as soon as he was cleared medically. How could this happen in less than eight hours? All she really did was go home and relax a little while, take a bath and go out to dinner for crying out loud!

Her pace increased as she neared his office where she was told he'd be. She blew through the door and stopped short. No Colonel. She was about to leave when she noticed a piece of paper stuck to his computer screen. `Daniel, if you're reading this I'm not here. Went to find Carter. Catch you later.'

She humphed to herself, where would he go? Only one place; her lab was in dire jeopardy.

She was there in three minutes but forced herself to stop a moment just outside the door to calm herself; no point in blowing into her own space like some damn tornado. She walked in with an air of much more dignity than she was feeling and was greeted by a huge grin from her CO.

"Carter! Where've you been?"

"Sir! It's good to have you back." She hesitated when she noticed he was holding one of her projects. The device had been in pieces on her lab bench for almost six months; she'd all but given up hope of ever reassembling it. Only now here it was- whole, and if the blinking lights were any indication, functioning!

Her hand moved toward it involuntarily. "How did you do that?"

As their eyes met she felt it, the presence of a symbiote. Before he could answer he noticed the color begin to drain from her face and he knew what she was feeling. He reached out a hand in her direction, not to touch her but only reassure. "It's Okay, I'm still me. That's one thing you were right about all this time, the Tok'ra really are different, I'm totally without his influence." He smiled and held up the device, "Well, mostly, I actually understand your toys now. Okay, *he* put it together but I helped."

She moved to her chair and sat in it quickly before her knees gave out. "So you and-"

"Khalil."

Her face fell. "I'm sorry. I should have been there, on the mission, there might have been something I could have done."

"Don't bet on it. It was close for all of us." He returned the device to the tabletop.

"But what you had to do. I know how you feel about the Tok'ra."

"Felt." He corrected her. "And I didn't `have' to do it. It was my decision to render assistance to Khalil as an ally in distress. The fact that I'm not dead now is just a sort of side effect."

"A side effect." She echoed his words with a tone of disbelief.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "But I plan to make the most of it. With any luck Frasier will clear me in a day or so and voila, I'm ba