Fic: Relativity
After reading some of the great offerings here, I've decided I so can't write dark fic, so here is my not-so-dark fic.
Title: Relativity
Rating/Warning: Adult; Explicit Sex; Sam/Jack; Jack/Other; AU
Spoilers: Metamorphosis
Your name: sjhw_tolerance
Your recipient: surrealphantast
Request details: Sam & Jack. ::smooches:: I was given incredible leeway with this fic, for which I am grateful. I love Sam & Jack so much it's hard for me to write either one of the dark, so I hope this humble offering is adequate
RELATIVITY
“Yes,” Jack growled, gripping her wrists and forcing them down on the soft cushions that pillowed her against his assault. She struggled briefly, more out of habit he suspected than anything else before she acquiesced, a low moan of pleasure escaping from between her red lips as he continued to thrust deeply into her. Her supple body moved in synchrony with his, her calculated movements designed to bring them both pleasure. But Jack ignored the enticing allure of her smooth skin, the erotic sight of her dusky nipples and the deceptive strength in the legs wrapped so tightly around his hips. He had only one objective-her complete and utter surrender.
Abruptly releasing her wrists, Jack shifted and withdrew from her, rising up on his knees. She protested, her eyes flashing with annoyance, but whatever she might have said rapidly faded when his hard hands went to her hips and she smiled knowingly. It took very little to encourage her then and when she rolled over, Jack pulled her to her knees and once more thrust deeply within her.
Jack gripped her hips and slammed into her, his eyes focused blankly on the heavily ornate lattice work that surrounded the bed chamber. He gritted his teeth and with one hand groped across her taut belly until he reached where they were joined. With casual efficiency Jack stroked her and was quickly rewarded when she cried out with pleasure, her internal muscles clenching tightly around him, her head thrown back with ecstasy.
It was only then that Jack released the tight control he’d maintained on his response and allowed his carefully controlled release to flow through him, stifling the low groan that escaped unbidden as he collapsed on top of his still trembling companion, his silver hair a stark contrast to the dark hair of the heavily breathing woman beneath him. When she finally stirred, Jack slowly eased off her and lay sprawled on the velvet pillows next to her.
“You are full of surprises, O’Neill.” Nirrti’s low voice reverberated with a contentment that couldn’t totally conceal the arrogance in her dark eyes.
Reaching out, Jack ran his fingers across her shoulder in a casual caress. “I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises,” he replied with equal arrogance.
She sat up, her skin pale against the dark cushions as she gracefully lifted a decanter and poured an amber liquid into two small glasses. Jack rose up onto one elbow and took the glass from her; she draped her lush body against him, taking a sip from her glass before speaking.
“You are different from the others, somehow the transformation as already been started within you,” she said, her eyes roving insolently over his body. “It has been rumored that the Asgard regard you as ‘special’ and eventually I will know why.” Her momentary pique seemed to pass and her lips brushed against his cheek, her breath warm against him as she spoke. “I am pleased you have accepted my offer. You will find I can be most generous to those who serve me.”
“You haven’t heard what I want yet,” he replied casually. Tipping back the contents of the small glass with one swallow, he grimaced slightly at the burn, feeling it settle uneasily in the pit of his stomach.
Her throaty laugh sent a chill down his spine, which he firmly ignored. “I shall restore your precious team to you.” She set her now empty glass down and lay back against the cushions, displaying her svelte body. “Major Carter is most attractive.” Jack met her calculating gaze unflinchingly. “She would make me an excellent host. Would that please you?”
Jack shrugged, schooling is expression to bored disinterest. “Blonde or brunette, it doesn’t really matter. It’s what’s inside that counts.”
Nirrti laughed again. “We are more alike than you know, O’Neill. Once I have completed your transformation, there will be nothing to stop us from ruling the universe.”
“Nothing at all,” Jack murmured. She lifted one ornately painted hand, letting it trail down his chest to his groin, her touch igniting an automatic response. Jack smiled and if his eyes remained as hard as hers, she didn’t either didn’t notice or care, once more pulling him in with her dark sensuality.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam shifted on the hard cot and moaned softly as pain wracked her body. A cool hand touched her sweaty forehead, smoothing her damp bangs off her forehead. “Shhh…its okay, Sam.”
“Colonel?” she muttered. Forcing her eyes to open; fear and confusion filled her when Jonas’ hazel eyes swam before her.
“Nirrti took him.”
“No,” she murmured weakly. Her eyes closed on a wave of despair. If Nirrti was doing to him what she had done to her….
“How do you feel?”
Sam tried to focus on Jonas again when a fresh wave of panic filled her. “Evanov?” When he didn’t answer right away, she tried to pull herself into a sitting position. Jonas’ hands were gentle as he helped her, but agony still tore through her body. She looked around the cells wildly, seeing only the huddled clusters of robed creatures, Jonas and Teal’c.
“He is dead,” Teal’c finally admitted, his dark eyes somber.
Sam slumped against Jonas, sick fear congealing in her stomach until she thought she was going to vomit. It had been mere hours for Evanov and she wondered how long she had before her cells completely disrupted. Leaning against Jonas, too weak to move, she forced her sluggish thoughts into some kind of order. “There has to be something we can do.” Even if not for herself, at least for the Colonel.
“If we could only get through to Egar,” Jonas finally said. “If he can read our minds, why can’t he read Nirrti’s?”
“Perhaps he is afraid to read the mind of one whom he considers a god,” Teal’c offered.
“We have to convince him somehow.” Sam wasn’t sure how they’d manage it, given the resistance they’d encountered so far, but she wouldn’t give up until she was dead. They fell silent then and she rested against Jonas, taking some comfort from his closeness and warmth.
Sam didn’t want to die, and while she was desperate to see the Colonel again, part of her was glad that maybe he wouldn’t be witness to her last gruesome moments, especially if the same thing was going to happen to him. She might have fallen asleep; but she was still vaguely aware of the occasional low rumble from Teal’c and the sounds of Jonas’ replies. However when she heard Woden’s garbled voice, her eyes flew open.
“She is to come with us.” Woden and Egar stood outside the cells, two of Nirrti’s Jaffa behind them.
“For what purpose?” Teal’c demanded.
“Because she has commanded,” Woden replied, almost as if by rote.
“Major Carter is too ill,” Jonas protested. Sam struggled to remain upright, only the strength of Jonas’ arm around her giving her the support she needed. “Can’t you see what Nirrti’s done to her?” Jonas questioned the two aliens. “She’s already killed Evanov and Alebran, are you going to let her keep on killing?”
“She is to come,” Woden repeated; the cell doors rising with movement of his crippled arms.
Supported by Jonas, Sam somehow managed to stand, but her knees quickly gave out and she crumpled to the hard floor, one of the Jaffa shoving Jonas out of the way before picking her up and roughly slinging her over his shoulder. Her last fuzzy image was of Jonas and Teal’c looking on helplessly as the Jaffa carried her away.
The trip from the cells to Nirrti’s chambers took on a surreal quality for Sam. With every step the Jaffa carrying her took, Sam let like she was going to throw up. But besides the nausea and vertigo she felt as she bounced against the cold metal of his armor, she could feel something more insidious. Whatever changes Nirrti’s machine had initiated at her cellular level was accelerating. Her lips curved in a ghost of a smile with the macabre hope that she would dissolve into liquid all over the Jaffa carrying her.
“Place her in the machine.”
Sam knew she wouldn’t be able to stand, so when the Jaffa dumped her onto the platform, she curled up onto her side. Her vision was going hazy, the images of the figures gathered around the machine wavering in front of her eyes. She saw Nirrti; Woden and Egar hovered to one side and then a man stepped out of the shadows.
“Sir,” she whispered, her brain almost refusing to assimilate the sight of him standing so casually next to Nirrti, his arm draped around the woman’s waist.
Nirrti smiled, her hand momentarily leaving the console and gliding possessively across the Colonel’s chest. “Your Colonel can be very persuasive,” the woman purred. And Sam had no trouble hearing-or seeing-the triumph in the woman’s face. “I shall restore you,” she said, her fingers moving nimbly over the console, “and then I shall take you as my host.”
Sam didn’t know what terrified her more, Nirrti’s pronouncement or the cold, almost bored look on the Colonel’s face. As the machine powered up, Sam desperately prayed that she would die before Nirrti could repair the damage done to her cells. But almost before that frantic thought ended, the machine hummed to life and the double helixes danced before Sam’s fading vision.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam slowly surfaced to awareness, wild dreams chasing through her subconscious mind, horrific visions of her, Jonas and Teal’c turned into horribly mutated creatures while the Colonel and Nirrti looked on and laughed. But even as she woke, through the fog and confusion left by her dreams, she could sense something else. She was back to normal, that Nirrti had indeed restored her. She didn’t hurt anymore and she allowed herself the momentary luxury of sinking deeper into the soft cushions on which she lay until she remembered the second part of Nirrti’s promised care and all of her current well-being couldn’t obviate the woman’s dark promise.
Rolling to her back, Sam cautiously stretched and opened her eyes, the ornate and elaborate décor telling her she was probably in Nirrti’s private chambers. And when she heard the low, throaty cries of a woman, Sam could only blame her sleep-addled senses for only just realizing she wasn’t alone in the room. Looking around for the source of the sound, her blood ran cold when she realized the chamber’s other occupants-and there were two, she realized, a woman and a man-were having sex. Now that she was fully awake, the unmistakable sounds assaulted her ears; the rhythmic sound of flesh impacting on flesh, the just audible harsh breathing of the man and the soft, but no less distinct, cries of pleasure from the woman.
Sam lay immobile for long moments, fear and revulsion filling her when she heard the man speak and recognized his voice; desperately fighting down the nausea and bile that rose in her throat at the unbidden image that filled her mind. But it was no use, the sounds of sex did nothing to stop the unwanted picture-the Colonel, naked and pounding into Nirrti’s willing body, like some bad porno movie.
His voice was low and deep, like she had never heard before, encouraging the woman and Sam instinctively put her hands over her ears to block the unwanted sound when she realized through her confusion that she had been presented the perfect opportunity to escape. If she could sneak away while the couple was oblivious to her presence, she could free Teal’c and Jonas and then return for the Colonel. She refused to acknowledge the insanity of such a plan; rationally she knew that to escape back to Earth and then return with reinforcements was more tactically sound, but she refused to even consider leaving the Colonel in that woman’s clutches, even if it appeared that was exactly where he wanted to be.
Sam cautiously sat up; the sounds from the couple reaching a crescendo as she carefully swung her legs over the side of the small divan where she lay. Her booted foot touched the floor when she suddenly froze.
“You please me greatly, O’Neill.”
Sam felt the nausea rising again, but forced it down. She had to use this opportunity to escape, but she couldn’t help but listen for his reply, his lazy chuckle sending a chill through her.
“I think you’ll like this even more.”
Closing her eyes on a fresh wave of pain, Sam braced herself to make her escape when the renewed sounds from the couple stopped her. And it was what she didn’t hear that shocked her, instead of the sounds of renewed sexual activity, she heard the unexpected sounds of a struggle. Helpless to stop herself, Sam rose unsteadily to her feet and followed the sounds of the struggle to the far side of the chamber, a heavily ornate screen blocking her view.
The muffled sounds grew louder and she steeled herself for what waited on the other side of the ornate latticed screen when it suddenly tumbled down. She jumped back in surprise and couldn’t stop her gasp of shock when she saw the Colonel kneeling over Nirrti’s very dead body, his large hands still wrapped tightly around her throat. He looked up and their eyes met and she shivered at the hate she saw reflected in their dark depths.
“Major!” he barked suddenly, dropping the dead woman carelessly down on to the bed. Rising, he pulled the coverlet around his hips to conceal his nakedness. “Report.”
His abrupt command snapped her out of her shock and she automatically straighten to attention. “I’m not sure, sir,” she answered honestly, keeping her eyes focused on a point behind him. “I just woke up-” A sudden commotion suddenly broke at one end of the chamber and they both turned at the sound.
“O’Neill!”
“Sam!”
Jonas and Teal’c raced into the room; Egar, Woden and dozens of other robed figures spilling in with them.
“We’ve come to free you…” Jonas said, his voice trailing off when he saw Nirrti. “What happened?” he asked, looking between her and the Colonel.
“He killed her,” Egar said, breaking the tense silence that stretched between them. “As I knew he would.”
Sam waited for the Colonel to say something, but he remained silent, his eyes cold and remote. Teal’c said nothing, his mouth held in a tight line as strode past O’Neill and checked the body for himself. Jonas looked around wildly, his mouth opening several times before he finally spoke, giving voice to one of the many questions racing through her mind once she’d known Nirrti was dead. “What about these people?” He gestured at the deformed and silent aliens around the chamber. “She was the only one who could help them.”
“Not so, Jonas Quinn,” Egar murmured. “I did as you asked and once I looked into her mind and saw her deception, I took what I needed.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Woden interrupted, obviously agitated.
“The time was not right,” Egar replied, his voice mild but firm.
“You knew the Colonel was going to kill her?” Jonas asked, his confusion mirroring her own.
Egar looked down, clearly disturbed.
“How could you be certain he would succeed?”
“I sensed the darkness inside him.”
The Colonel’s eyes were bleak as he stood before them, clutching his clothing with one hand and the coverlet with the other. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack stared out at the Stargate, the window reflecting his unsmiling face back at him and he wondered what Sam saw now when she looked at him, or rather when she didn’t look at him. It had been three weeks since they’d returned from 367; she hadn’t looked at him directly after that stark moment in Nirrti’s bed chamber, when he’d had his hands clamped in a death grip around the bitch’s throat. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the look of horror on her face when the cold rage that had filled him had faded and he saw her standing there. She had looked at him as if she didn’t know him and now it seemed she couldn’t bear to look at him at all.
He’d killed before, and sometimes for even less reason, and he would do it all over again if it meant saving his team…saving her. There was a darkness inside him that the Air Force had found and exploited; using him to their advantage more times than he cared to remember. But it disturbed him more than he wanted to acknowledge that she had been witness to his actions. That he would do whatever it took to save her, he had long ago accepted, and now he hoped that she could do the same with him.
Hammond had accepted his heavily edited version of what had happened without any questions. Details weren’t always necessary-or even desired-in certain…sensitive situations. Of course, the general could also have just been distracted by his upcoming trip to the Pentagon, a trip that almost seemed more attractive Jack right now than wandering aimlessly around the SGC while the powers that be debated its fate.
Hammond had left him nominally in charge, an exercise that didn’t require too much effort as everyone knew their jobs and were frighteningly efficient at them. Which left him with way too much time to think and brood; not that anyone would ever accuse him of brooding, but all the members of his team had been giving him a wide berth in the days since their return.
The silent Stargate seemed to mock him, sitting majestic and serene in the dimly lit gate room. He wanted to be out there, needed to be out there, but after everything that had happened on 367, Fraiser had grounded them for a month. And if Jack was going to be honest with himself, he knew at least one member of his team wasn’t ready to follow him blindly through the Stargate. Jack turned his back on the gate and wandered back into Hammond’s office, sitting down in the comfortable leather chair, looking at the half-written mission report scrawled on the yellow legal pad in front of him.
Jack wrote a few words and then scratched them out, tossing the pencil down onto the blotter, his mind refusing to let go of what had happened. He knew Teal’c hadn’t needed any explanations regarding what had transpired in Nirrti’s bed chamber, he was a warrior and former First Prime, he-more than the others-would understand. And while Jonas might have wanted an explanation, Jack hadn’t felt compelled to give him one. If Jonas was really curious, sooner or later he’d ask Teal’c and that would have to suffice.
As for Sam…it bothered him that he wanted to explain to Sam, even more, that he needed to explain to her. He wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done to reach his ultimate goal, so he wasn’t sure why Sam’s understanding-or maybe it was her forgiveness-had become so important to him. And he was getting absolutely no where with his current train of thought, so he grabbed his pencil.
“Well, crap,” he muttered when the pencil lead broke; nothing was going his way. Tossing the pencil into the garbage can he started scrounging around on Hammond’s desk, pulling open drawers in search of another pencil. As he pulled open the bottom drawer and saw the stack of official looking papers, he decided maybe it wasn’t such a smart idea to be going through the General’s desk drawers, when the name on the top sheet caught his eye. Curious now, he looked around quickly and seeing no one in the briefing room, carefully extracted the paper.
What the hell…Jack frowned, reading the transfer request form twice, a cold rage filling him as its meaning sunk in. He crumpled it up in his hand, preparing to throw it into the garbage, when he realized the futility of the gesture, she’d just submit another one and he’d be damned if he’d let her do that. With the offending paper still in his hand, Jack strode out of the General’s office and went in search of his Major.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly, the equations on the computer screen dancing drunkenly before her. She desperately needed a break, but she felt like she was working against a deadline, self-imposed as it was. Hammond would be back at the end of the week and he had promised her an answer on his return, an answer she both desired and dreaded.
Signing her name to the transfer request had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but when she had dredged up the memory of that moment in Nirrti’s chamber when she’d met the Colonel’s eyes over the body of the dead woman, she had quickly scribbled her name on the paper. She tried to tell herself that she hadn’t truly been aware of what lengths he would go to for her, but that was a lie, she had known the extent of her power over him ever since that disastrous trip to Antarctica. Leaving might be the coward’s way out, but she really didn’t see any other alternative.
When she got a different answer to the formula for the fifth time, Sam decided it was finally time to stop. Stretching and rubbing the small of her back, she pressed save and prepared to close down the rest of her running programs when the door to her lab swung open-and then just as quickly slammed shut.
“Colonel.” He looked hard and dangerous and she instinctively stood up, carefully keeping her work table between them.
“So,” he said, with a nonchalance that was at odds with the tension she could see emanating from him. “Finished for the day?”
“Just about.”
“Then you’ll have time to explain this to me.” He tossed a crumpled piece of paper down in front of her.
With one glance she recognized what it was. A momentary sense of panic filled her as she wondered wildly how he had gotten it, when she realized it didn’t really matter how he had found it. The confrontation she had been hoping to put off was now no longer an option. Picking it up, she smoothed out some of the creases, her mind racing as she searched for the words to explain her decision to him.
“I need a change.” She looked up at him then, schooling herself not to react to the disbelief she saw in his eyes.
“A change?” he murmured. His voice was so mild that anyone else might have been fooled, but she couldn’t claim such naivety. “From what?”
After all they had been through, she owed him an honest answer, but she wasn’t sure she knew what the truth was anymore. She had seen deeper into his soul in that moment in Nirrti’s chamber than she wanted and what she saw there had frightened her to her core.
“I’ve actually been thinking about this for awhile now,” she lied. Shrugging, she set the incriminating document back down on the table. “Now seemed like a good time.”
“I never took you for a coward, Sam.”
She did flinch then at the contempt in his voice, but she wasn’t going to let him rattle her. “I apologize, sir, for not coming to you sooner-”
“Cut the crap, Carter,” he interrupted. “You and I both know this isn’t about you needing a change. This is about you running away.”
Maybe she was running, but she was tired and in no mood to discuss her reasons with him when he wasn’t going to listen. Closing her laptop, she kept her voice calm, yet firm. “With all due respect, sir, we should discuss this tomorrow, when you’re feeling more reasonable.”
“Reasonable? You want reasonable?”
He advanced on her then and while she kept reminding herself that she wasn’t frightened of him, she found herself backing up until she was trapped between his hard body and the wall.
She had seriously misjudged him and it was too late to try and explain. He was so close she could hear him breathing, and could feel the movement of his chest against hers when he leaned closer and whispered in her ear.
“What bothers you the most, Carter?” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. “The fact that I killed her or that I screwed her?”
Sam shivered, and god help her, she didn’t know if it was from his words or his proximity. “You did what you had to do, sir,” she whispered.
“So let me get this straight,” he drawled, using that mocking tone she despised. “You understand yet you still requested a transfer?”
She nodded, swallowing convulsively. He was too close and she was far too susceptible to him.
“Then I guess I won’t be breaking any regulations when I do this.” His mouth was coolly possessive and she was so shocked, she stood immobile while his lips molded persuasively against hers. And then it was almost too late, as she felt herself sinking into the tangled morass of desire and love that defined the complex web of emotions that bound her to this man.
“No,” she murmured weakly, pushing against his chest. His mouth slid from hers then, one large hand kneading her breast through her T-shirt. “I won’t let you do this.”
“You want it, Sam,” he muttered. She moaned softly when he bit her ear lobe. “We both want it.”
“Not like this,” she protested. Sam could feel the insidious lure of desire weakening her, so she pushed harder at his chest and finally managed to break free. Wiping her hand across her mouth, she backed away from him, breathing heavily. “I won’t let you control me the way you tried to control her.”
Something dark and unbearably bleak flashed briefly in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant, leaving a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t thought his eyes could get any colder than they had when he’d had his hands wrapped around Nirrti’s throat and she wanted to weep when he his voice cut through her like ice.
“I’ll make sure Hammond signs your transfer request as soon as he returns.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was so not a good idea, Sam told herself for at least the hundredth time, still trying to bolster her flagging nerve and failing miserably. Her hand was actually on the keys still hanging from the ignition, when the porch light suddenly sprang on. She froze, like a deer caught in the oncoming headlights of a car, when he stood silhouetted in the open door. She still almost turned tail, but then she remembered that brief moment of agony she’d seen in his eyes. She’d already caused him so much pain, she decided grimly, yanking the keys out of the ignition and opening the car door, she wouldn’t be responsible for any more.
Forcing herself to leave the security of her car, she calmly walked up the stairs and onto his porch, sidling past him as he held the door open in silent invitation. The interior was dark except for a small table lamp in the living room and she followed its comforting light. A bottle of Scotch and a small glass still containing a few drops of the amber liquid sat accusingly on the end table. Shivering slightly, she gravitated towards the fireplace where a feeble flame flickered amongst the smoldering embers.
He followed her in, still silent and Sam watched him solemnly as he sat back down in the leather arm chair and poured more Scotch into the glass. In his first direct acknowledgement of her presence he held the glass out to her. She shook her head and he merely shrugged, tossing the amber liquid back in one swallow.
“So, to what do I owe the honor?”
His idle tone was sarcastic and she would have walked out then if not for the faint weariness she sensed in his voice and his posture. They’d both already lost so much the past few months, she couldn’t bear to lose anymore, even if it meant sacrificing her so-called career.
“You think I don’t understand why you did what you did on 367-”
“Haven’t we already had this discussion?” he interrupted, a look of bored disinterest on his face.
She ignored him. “So explain it to me.” It was a challenge-and a plea-and when he continued to sit silently, she turned her back to him and stared unseeing into the dying embers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack poured another shot of Scotch, seeking the elusive fortification offered by the stinging burn of the smooth liquid down his throat. He wasn’t drunk, unfortunately he was far from it, given that his main intent all evening had been to use the temporary reprieve from his tangled thoughts that the alcohol might provide. But she was here now and maybe she deserved an explanation before she left SG1-and him.
He picked up the bottle of Scotch again, but just as quickly set it down; no amount of alcohol would make this any easier. Sighing inaudibly, he scrubbed his hand over his face and looked at her tense, silent back. So much had lain unspoken between them for so long, he wondered if he’d be able to actually get the words out. But god, he was so fucking tired and if he was going to go down for this, he was going to take her with him.
“Everything I did, I did for you.” Her back stiffened and the already tense atmosphere in the room ratcheted up another ten degrees. Deciding he did need a drink, Jack poured another liberal shot of Scotch into his glass, swirling it around absently before taking a sip.
“Come on, Carter,” he said in a surprisingly mellow tone, almost cajoling her. “I took a snake for you and you’re surprised that I would kill for you?”
That got a response from her; she turned slowly from her in-depth study of the fireplace and she gazed at him with sad blue eyes. “I know,” she said softly. “I’ve always known.”
She turned back towards the fire again and he could barely hear her when she continued speaking. “That’s why I vowed after you were…” she hesitated just briefly, “...sick to never put you in that position again.” Her laugh was bitter. “For all the good it did me.”
Okay, he was confused now and it had nothing to do with the Scotch he’d indulged in and everything to do with the stricken woman standing in front of him. “Excuse me?”
“Sir…Jack….” She looked over her shoulder at him and paused briefly, her eyes flashing to his for the briefest of moments before she continued. “I don’t want you losing your soul for me!”
He didn’t doubt her, she virtually radiated sincerity and he realized that after all they’d been through and for all her brains, she still didn’t have a clue. He stood then, his movements controlled and deliberate as he took the few steps that brought him to her. She turned, standing defiantly in front of him and he felt some of the pain that had encased his heart start to melt away. She flinched when he framed her face with his hands, but she stood her ground and he felt a surge of pride. “You just don’t get it. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have a soul.”
Her smile was wry. “I doubt that’s true. But it’s nice of you to say.”
The relief that surged through him was unexpected and he relaxed a little bit. “So why all this drama? The whole resignation thing?”
She wrenched out of his grasp then. “And you say I don’t get it.”
“Don’t play games with me, Sam.”
“I’m not ‘playing games’ with you, sir,” she spat.
Jack went rigid at the honorific, slightly off balance at her vehemence and then his eyes narrowed. “So what is it, Sam? Are you pissed at me because I fucked her or because I killed the bitch? Because if you think I enjoyed any of it, then you don’t know me at all.”
“Maybe I know you better than you think,” she retorted almost defiantly. “And that’s what scares you the most.”
Jack felt his control start to unravel and grabbed her by her shoulders. “She was going to kill you, worse than that, she was going to make you her host.” He shook her slightly, his emotions careening out of control. “I love you,” he practically shouted, “and if fucking some Goa’uld is what it takes to save your life, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The look of horrified shock on his face would have been comical under any other circumstances and Sam didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But beneath the incipient panic, she felt a thrill of pure satisfaction at his admission. She hadn’t set out to break him, and up until a moment ago, she would have maintained that such a thing was impossible. The balance of power had tipped unexpectedly in her favor and the giddy rush that surged through her was both exhilarating and unnerving.
For the first time in months she felt in control and it felt good…until she looked in his eyes and saw his soul, naked and bleeding in front of her. He didn’t beg, he didn’t plead, he didn’t make excuses or try to retract his words; he stood in front of her, his dark eyes never wavering as he waited for her reaction. And the love that had always been there, hidden and dormant, roared to fierce life within her. Surrender had never been so easy than in that moment when recognized that it had never been about power but had always been about love.
The barest shadow of regret flickered across face; his hands sliding almost reluctantly down her arms and when his fingers tangled briefly with hers, she grabbed his hands and held on tight.
“I know,” she repeated, echoing her earlier acknowledgement. Releasing his left hand, she reached up and caressed his cheek, the slight rasp of his evening stubble tingling against her finger tips. “I would never ask you to love me like that.” His eyes darkened until they were almost black and the hand still holding hers squeezed so tightly she almost winced. “But I’m glad you do.”
Sliding her hand to his nape, she pressed lightly and she rose up to meet him. When their breath mingled, she caught the faint hint of Scotch and then their lips met. His tenderness surprised her after their earlier kiss in her lab, his mouth gently persuasive now instead of coldly demanding and she wondered dimly through her growing desire if it was an intentional move on his part. But then he deepened the kiss and Sam opened her mouth to his questing tongue, deliberately blocking the practical part of her nature that warned of the foolishness of giving into her desires…and her need.
Rules and regulations wouldn’t keep her warm at night nor prevent either of them from dying without knowing whether all that they had denied for so long had been worth the sacrifice. He had descended into hell because of her and now it was her turn to rescue him. Of course, she’d wanted him so long that it was hardly a fair trade-off, but if she was bent on potential self-destruction, she was going to go out in a blaze of glory.
The reality of finally giving into her long-suppressed need was almost more intoxicating than the power of his kisses. Pressing closer, she rubbed herself wantonly against him, liquid desire pooling low in her belly. She moaned softly when he finally freed her mouth and she clung helplessly to him, her mouth already seeking his again.
“Jack,” she protested faintly, when he effortlessly evaded her attempts to recapture his mouth. He didn’t leave her bereft for long, swinging her up into his arms and she sighed contentedly, looping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his throat. She took a shuddering breath, pressing a soft kiss to his neck before closing her eyes and nestling against him for the short trip to his bedroom.
When he lowered her to the bed, she released him only because he gave her no other choice and she forced herself to relax back against the soft pillows. There was the faint click of a lamp switch and soft light flooded the room. He stood beside the bed, one hand already tugging at his belt, his eyes hooded as he looked down at her. It perhaps spoke of his confidence-or his arrogance-that he didn’t question her capitulation, but then she’d made her decision the moment she’d gotten into her car and arrived unannounced at his house.
Driven by the urgency of her need, Sam wasn’t content to wait idly for her lover. Kicking her shoes off, she rose up on her knees and she knelt at the edge of the bed; grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him toward her. Their mouths met again in an even hungrier kiss, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as her lips clung greedily to his. And while his hands moved with greater certainty, it seemed to take an exceedingly long time-that was interrupted by much stroking and caressing-before they were both naked and she succeeded in pulling him down onto the bed with her.
Jack landed on top of her with precise control and she immediately cradled him, wrapping her arms and legs around him, his mouth fastening on hers in a kiss made no-less frantic by their now excruciatingly intimate contact. She wanted to memorize each moment, each new sensation; the surprisingly heavy weight of his lean body against hers, the incredibly erotic sensation of his skin brushing against hers in so many delightful and unexpected ways and the ache that pooled deep inside her with every beat of his heart that was echoed in the hard flesh even now pressed so demandingly between her thighs.
But her need for him quickly overpowered her vague yearnings to catalog each sensation and her hands ran down his back in an urgent caress, desire heavy in her voice as she urged him closer. “Jack…please.”
His answering smile was faintly predatory and she felt a momentary chill chase through her, barely repressed memories of those last vivid moments in Nirrti’s chambers flashing before her eyes, providing a potent reminder of all the facets of her lover’s character. And then she looked in his eyes and found the reassurance she hadn’t realized she needed. He had said he loved her and while she might have questioned his words, she couldn’t question the emotion she saw burning deep in his eyes; she could see into his very soul and she saw only love reflected there.
Sam owed him the same honesty in return. “I love you.” This time the flare of deep satisfaction on his face didn’t alarm her; it merely mirrored the same fierce passion she felt for him.
“Sam,” he groaned, his eyes burning into hers. When his muscles tensed beneath her hands, she kept her eyes glued to his face as she felt him start to move. She felt like she was drowning in his arms, the intensity of the emotions running through her was almost overwhelming. She had loved-and been loved-before; but all her previous lovers faded into insignificance when she gave herself to Jack. This wasn’t some casual fling or friends with benefits, this was forever.
Beyond the sheer enormity of acting on their feelings was the physical reality when he pressed into her. Sensation was intensified, every cell in her body so hyper-aware that if she hadn’t been grounded in him, she knew she would have spiraled away into nothingness. As it was, she reveled in the exquisite fullness as he completed his possession and when he started moving in deep, measured strokes, all she could do was cling to him and follow where he led.
It shouldn’t have surprised her that she was so responsive to him; hadn’t she spent years denying the attraction between them, instinctively knowing once it was set free it could never be contained? Even given that, she was still unprepared for the ease with which he aroused her, his name a broken sob on her lips when rapture finally coalesced and cascaded through her. Pleasure spiraled out of control inside her until her consciousness dimmed and she surrendered herself, body and soul to Jack, trusting him to keep her safe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack collapsed heavily on top of her, random tremors still racing through him in the aftermath of his explosive orgasm. Nuzzling her neck, he inhaled deeply, the fresh scent of her shampoo mixed with the slightly muskier undertones of sex nothing like the overpoweringly redolent atmosphere of Nirrti’s chambers. In fact, nothing about his current position was remotely similar to what had happened to him at her hands. Sam’s capable hands moved caressingly through his hair, gliding gently over his shoulders and back in a touch he knew was meant to soothe, yet was surprisingly erotic.
He could stay in her arms this way forever-replete and finally satisfied-but it was an edgy contentment that seemed to mock him with the uncomfortable realization that he had indeed sold his soul. But not for Nirrti and certainly not for God and country, but for what he cynically suspected was passion cleverly disguised as love. But, god help him, he did love her and that confession revealed a vulnerability that terrified him more than any Goa’uld.
Sam stirred beneath him and with belated concern, he carefully moved off her, automatically pulling her into his arms when she curled up against him. His fingers lightly toyed with her hair and he wondered how upset she’d be if he reached over, shut out the light and pretended to sleep. And then she spoke.
“It’s okay.” His arms fell from around her when she rose up on one elbow and looked down at him. She looked so gorgeous, all rumpled and drowsy from sex, that he thought his heart would break. “I understand.”
Well, he was glad one of them understood, because he was clueless. Her smile was indulgent and tender, given the circumstances that had brought them together, and he wondered why she didn’t run screaming from his bed. “What do you understand?” he asked, smoothing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.
“You.” She kissed his nose. “And you’re thinking too much.”
“Don’t get accused of that too often.” She snorted delicately and he cradled her cheek with one hand, his eyes searching hers. He had used casually spoken words of love and the power of carnal satisfaction to further his own ends more times than he really wanted to acknowledge and he wasn’t sure he could change this late in his life, but the trust and love he could see in her deep blue eyes gave him hope.
“Sam…there’s this,” he paused, trying to think of something less melodramatic but finally just giving up and hoping she really did understand, “darkness inside me-”
“Shhh…” she interrupted, placing a finger over his lips. “Been there, done that.”
“And that’s it?” He wanted to believe her…he needed to believe her.
“It can be.” She spoke the words calmly enough, but Jack could see the fine tension in her face and feel it radiating through the body pressed so close against his.
When she had walked into his home he hadn’t been expecting redemption and while deep in his soul the darkness derided his weakness, Jack found he couldn’t refuse. Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled, once more settling over her and capturing her lips in a deeply possessive kiss, sealing their bond in the most fundamental way possible. She melted into him and as he sank deeper into the morass of love and desire that engulfed them, he prayed that when the darkness finally shattered her, she didn’t take his soul with her into the abyss.
THE END
Title: Relativity
Rating/Warning: Adult; Explicit Sex; Sam/Jack; Jack/Other; AU
Spoilers: Metamorphosis
Your name: sjhw_tolerance
Your recipient: surrealphantast
Request details: Sam & Jack. ::smooches:: I was given incredible leeway with this fic, for which I am grateful. I love Sam & Jack so much it's hard for me to write either one of the dark, so I hope this humble offering is adequate
RELATIVITY
“Yes,” Jack growled, gripping her wrists and forcing them down on the soft cushions that pillowed her against his assault. She struggled briefly, more out of habit he suspected than anything else before she acquiesced, a low moan of pleasure escaping from between her red lips as he continued to thrust deeply into her. Her supple body moved in synchrony with his, her calculated movements designed to bring them both pleasure. But Jack ignored the enticing allure of her smooth skin, the erotic sight of her dusky nipples and the deceptive strength in the legs wrapped so tightly around his hips. He had only one objective-her complete and utter surrender.
Abruptly releasing her wrists, Jack shifted and withdrew from her, rising up on his knees. She protested, her eyes flashing with annoyance, but whatever she might have said rapidly faded when his hard hands went to her hips and she smiled knowingly. It took very little to encourage her then and when she rolled over, Jack pulled her to her knees and once more thrust deeply within her.
Jack gripped her hips and slammed into her, his eyes focused blankly on the heavily ornate lattice work that surrounded the bed chamber. He gritted his teeth and with one hand groped across her taut belly until he reached where they were joined. With casual efficiency Jack stroked her and was quickly rewarded when she cried out with pleasure, her internal muscles clenching tightly around him, her head thrown back with ecstasy.
It was only then that Jack released the tight control he’d maintained on his response and allowed his carefully controlled release to flow through him, stifling the low groan that escaped unbidden as he collapsed on top of his still trembling companion, his silver hair a stark contrast to the dark hair of the heavily breathing woman beneath him. When she finally stirred, Jack slowly eased off her and lay sprawled on the velvet pillows next to her.
“You are full of surprises, O’Neill.” Nirrti’s low voice reverberated with a contentment that couldn’t totally conceal the arrogance in her dark eyes.
Reaching out, Jack ran his fingers across her shoulder in a casual caress. “I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises,” he replied with equal arrogance.
She sat up, her skin pale against the dark cushions as she gracefully lifted a decanter and poured an amber liquid into two small glasses. Jack rose up onto one elbow and took the glass from her; she draped her lush body against him, taking a sip from her glass before speaking.
“You are different from the others, somehow the transformation as already been started within you,” she said, her eyes roving insolently over his body. “It has been rumored that the Asgard regard you as ‘special’ and eventually I will know why.” Her momentary pique seemed to pass and her lips brushed against his cheek, her breath warm against him as she spoke. “I am pleased you have accepted my offer. You will find I can be most generous to those who serve me.”
“You haven’t heard what I want yet,” he replied casually. Tipping back the contents of the small glass with one swallow, he grimaced slightly at the burn, feeling it settle uneasily in the pit of his stomach.
Her throaty laugh sent a chill down his spine, which he firmly ignored. “I shall restore your precious team to you.” She set her now empty glass down and lay back against the cushions, displaying her svelte body. “Major Carter is most attractive.” Jack met her calculating gaze unflinchingly. “She would make me an excellent host. Would that please you?”
Jack shrugged, schooling is expression to bored disinterest. “Blonde or brunette, it doesn’t really matter. It’s what’s inside that counts.”
Nirrti laughed again. “We are more alike than you know, O’Neill. Once I have completed your transformation, there will be nothing to stop us from ruling the universe.”
“Nothing at all,” Jack murmured. She lifted one ornately painted hand, letting it trail down his chest to his groin, her touch igniting an automatic response. Jack smiled and if his eyes remained as hard as hers, she didn’t either didn’t notice or care, once more pulling him in with her dark sensuality.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam shifted on the hard cot and moaned softly as pain wracked her body. A cool hand touched her sweaty forehead, smoothing her damp bangs off her forehead. “Shhh…its okay, Sam.”
“Colonel?” she muttered. Forcing her eyes to open; fear and confusion filled her when Jonas’ hazel eyes swam before her.
“Nirrti took him.”
“No,” she murmured weakly. Her eyes closed on a wave of despair. If Nirrti was doing to him what she had done to her….
“How do you feel?”
Sam tried to focus on Jonas again when a fresh wave of panic filled her. “Evanov?” When he didn’t answer right away, she tried to pull herself into a sitting position. Jonas’ hands were gentle as he helped her, but agony still tore through her body. She looked around the cells wildly, seeing only the huddled clusters of robed creatures, Jonas and Teal’c.
“He is dead,” Teal’c finally admitted, his dark eyes somber.
Sam slumped against Jonas, sick fear congealing in her stomach until she thought she was going to vomit. It had been mere hours for Evanov and she wondered how long she had before her cells completely disrupted. Leaning against Jonas, too weak to move, she forced her sluggish thoughts into some kind of order. “There has to be something we can do.” Even if not for herself, at least for the Colonel.
“If we could only get through to Egar,” Jonas finally said. “If he can read our minds, why can’t he read Nirrti’s?”
“Perhaps he is afraid to read the mind of one whom he considers a god,” Teal’c offered.
“We have to convince him somehow.” Sam wasn’t sure how they’d manage it, given the resistance they’d encountered so far, but she wouldn’t give up until she was dead. They fell silent then and she rested against Jonas, taking some comfort from his closeness and warmth.
Sam didn’t want to die, and while she was desperate to see the Colonel again, part of her was glad that maybe he wouldn’t be witness to her last gruesome moments, especially if the same thing was going to happen to him. She might have fallen asleep; but she was still vaguely aware of the occasional low rumble from Teal’c and the sounds of Jonas’ replies. However when she heard Woden’s garbled voice, her eyes flew open.
“She is to come with us.” Woden and Egar stood outside the cells, two of Nirrti’s Jaffa behind them.
“For what purpose?” Teal’c demanded.
“Because she has commanded,” Woden replied, almost as if by rote.
“Major Carter is too ill,” Jonas protested. Sam struggled to remain upright, only the strength of Jonas’ arm around her giving her the support she needed. “Can’t you see what Nirrti’s done to her?” Jonas questioned the two aliens. “She’s already killed Evanov and Alebran, are you going to let her keep on killing?”
“She is to come,” Woden repeated; the cell doors rising with movement of his crippled arms.
Supported by Jonas, Sam somehow managed to stand, but her knees quickly gave out and she crumpled to the hard floor, one of the Jaffa shoving Jonas out of the way before picking her up and roughly slinging her over his shoulder. Her last fuzzy image was of Jonas and Teal’c looking on helplessly as the Jaffa carried her away.
The trip from the cells to Nirrti’s chambers took on a surreal quality for Sam. With every step the Jaffa carrying her took, Sam let like she was going to throw up. But besides the nausea and vertigo she felt as she bounced against the cold metal of his armor, she could feel something more insidious. Whatever changes Nirrti’s machine had initiated at her cellular level was accelerating. Her lips curved in a ghost of a smile with the macabre hope that she would dissolve into liquid all over the Jaffa carrying her.
“Place her in the machine.”
Sam knew she wouldn’t be able to stand, so when the Jaffa dumped her onto the platform, she curled up onto her side. Her vision was going hazy, the images of the figures gathered around the machine wavering in front of her eyes. She saw Nirrti; Woden and Egar hovered to one side and then a man stepped out of the shadows.
“Sir,” she whispered, her brain almost refusing to assimilate the sight of him standing so casually next to Nirrti, his arm draped around the woman’s waist.
Nirrti smiled, her hand momentarily leaving the console and gliding possessively across the Colonel’s chest. “Your Colonel can be very persuasive,” the woman purred. And Sam had no trouble hearing-or seeing-the triumph in the woman’s face. “I shall restore you,” she said, her fingers moving nimbly over the console, “and then I shall take you as my host.”
Sam didn’t know what terrified her more, Nirrti’s pronouncement or the cold, almost bored look on the Colonel’s face. As the machine powered up, Sam desperately prayed that she would die before Nirrti could repair the damage done to her cells. But almost before that frantic thought ended, the machine hummed to life and the double helixes danced before Sam’s fading vision.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam slowly surfaced to awareness, wild dreams chasing through her subconscious mind, horrific visions of her, Jonas and Teal’c turned into horribly mutated creatures while the Colonel and Nirrti looked on and laughed. But even as she woke, through the fog and confusion left by her dreams, she could sense something else. She was back to normal, that Nirrti had indeed restored her. She didn’t hurt anymore and she allowed herself the momentary luxury of sinking deeper into the soft cushions on which she lay until she remembered the second part of Nirrti’s promised care and all of her current well-being couldn’t obviate the woman’s dark promise.
Rolling to her back, Sam cautiously stretched and opened her eyes, the ornate and elaborate décor telling her she was probably in Nirrti’s private chambers. And when she heard the low, throaty cries of a woman, Sam could only blame her sleep-addled senses for only just realizing she wasn’t alone in the room. Looking around for the source of the sound, her blood ran cold when she realized the chamber’s other occupants-and there were two, she realized, a woman and a man-were having sex. Now that she was fully awake, the unmistakable sounds assaulted her ears; the rhythmic sound of flesh impacting on flesh, the just audible harsh breathing of the man and the soft, but no less distinct, cries of pleasure from the woman.
Sam lay immobile for long moments, fear and revulsion filling her when she heard the man speak and recognized his voice; desperately fighting down the nausea and bile that rose in her throat at the unbidden image that filled her mind. But it was no use, the sounds of sex did nothing to stop the unwanted picture-the Colonel, naked and pounding into Nirrti’s willing body, like some bad porno movie.
His voice was low and deep, like she had never heard before, encouraging the woman and Sam instinctively put her hands over her ears to block the unwanted sound when she realized through her confusion that she had been presented the perfect opportunity to escape. If she could sneak away while the couple was oblivious to her presence, she could free Teal’c and Jonas and then return for the Colonel. She refused to acknowledge the insanity of such a plan; rationally she knew that to escape back to Earth and then return with reinforcements was more tactically sound, but she refused to even consider leaving the Colonel in that woman’s clutches, even if it appeared that was exactly where he wanted to be.
Sam cautiously sat up; the sounds from the couple reaching a crescendo as she carefully swung her legs over the side of the small divan where she lay. Her booted foot touched the floor when she suddenly froze.
“You please me greatly, O’Neill.”
Sam felt the nausea rising again, but forced it down. She had to use this opportunity to escape, but she couldn’t help but listen for his reply, his lazy chuckle sending a chill through her.
“I think you’ll like this even more.”
Closing her eyes on a fresh wave of pain, Sam braced herself to make her escape when the renewed sounds from the couple stopped her. And it was what she didn’t hear that shocked her, instead of the sounds of renewed sexual activity, she heard the unexpected sounds of a struggle. Helpless to stop herself, Sam rose unsteadily to her feet and followed the sounds of the struggle to the far side of the chamber, a heavily ornate screen blocking her view.
The muffled sounds grew louder and she steeled herself for what waited on the other side of the ornate latticed screen when it suddenly tumbled down. She jumped back in surprise and couldn’t stop her gasp of shock when she saw the Colonel kneeling over Nirrti’s very dead body, his large hands still wrapped tightly around her throat. He looked up and their eyes met and she shivered at the hate she saw reflected in their dark depths.
“Major!” he barked suddenly, dropping the dead woman carelessly down on to the bed. Rising, he pulled the coverlet around his hips to conceal his nakedness. “Report.”
His abrupt command snapped her out of her shock and she automatically straighten to attention. “I’m not sure, sir,” she answered honestly, keeping her eyes focused on a point behind him. “I just woke up-” A sudden commotion suddenly broke at one end of the chamber and they both turned at the sound.
“O’Neill!”
“Sam!”
Jonas and Teal’c raced into the room; Egar, Woden and dozens of other robed figures spilling in with them.
“We’ve come to free you…” Jonas said, his voice trailing off when he saw Nirrti. “What happened?” he asked, looking between her and the Colonel.
“He killed her,” Egar said, breaking the tense silence that stretched between them. “As I knew he would.”
Sam waited for the Colonel to say something, but he remained silent, his eyes cold and remote. Teal’c said nothing, his mouth held in a tight line as strode past O’Neill and checked the body for himself. Jonas looked around wildly, his mouth opening several times before he finally spoke, giving voice to one of the many questions racing through her mind once she’d known Nirrti was dead. “What about these people?” He gestured at the deformed and silent aliens around the chamber. “She was the only one who could help them.”
“Not so, Jonas Quinn,” Egar murmured. “I did as you asked and once I looked into her mind and saw her deception, I took what I needed.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Woden interrupted, obviously agitated.
“The time was not right,” Egar replied, his voice mild but firm.
“You knew the Colonel was going to kill her?” Jonas asked, his confusion mirroring her own.
Egar looked down, clearly disturbed.
“How could you be certain he would succeed?”
“I sensed the darkness inside him.”
The Colonel’s eyes were bleak as he stood before them, clutching his clothing with one hand and the coverlet with the other. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack stared out at the Stargate, the window reflecting his unsmiling face back at him and he wondered what Sam saw now when she looked at him, or rather when she didn’t look at him. It had been three weeks since they’d returned from 367; she hadn’t looked at him directly after that stark moment in Nirrti’s bed chamber, when he’d had his hands clamped in a death grip around the bitch’s throat. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the look of horror on her face when the cold rage that had filled him had faded and he saw her standing there. She had looked at him as if she didn’t know him and now it seemed she couldn’t bear to look at him at all.
He’d killed before, and sometimes for even less reason, and he would do it all over again if it meant saving his team…saving her. There was a darkness inside him that the Air Force had found and exploited; using him to their advantage more times than he cared to remember. But it disturbed him more than he wanted to acknowledge that she had been witness to his actions. That he would do whatever it took to save her, he had long ago accepted, and now he hoped that she could do the same with him.
Hammond had accepted his heavily edited version of what had happened without any questions. Details weren’t always necessary-or even desired-in certain…sensitive situations. Of course, the general could also have just been distracted by his upcoming trip to the Pentagon, a trip that almost seemed more attractive Jack right now than wandering aimlessly around the SGC while the powers that be debated its fate.
Hammond had left him nominally in charge, an exercise that didn’t require too much effort as everyone knew their jobs and were frighteningly efficient at them. Which left him with way too much time to think and brood; not that anyone would ever accuse him of brooding, but all the members of his team had been giving him a wide berth in the days since their return.
The silent Stargate seemed to mock him, sitting majestic and serene in the dimly lit gate room. He wanted to be out there, needed to be out there, but after everything that had happened on 367, Fraiser had grounded them for a month. And if Jack was going to be honest with himself, he knew at least one member of his team wasn’t ready to follow him blindly through the Stargate. Jack turned his back on the gate and wandered back into Hammond’s office, sitting down in the comfortable leather chair, looking at the half-written mission report scrawled on the yellow legal pad in front of him.
Jack wrote a few words and then scratched them out, tossing the pencil down onto the blotter, his mind refusing to let go of what had happened. He knew Teal’c hadn’t needed any explanations regarding what had transpired in Nirrti’s bed chamber, he was a warrior and former First Prime, he-more than the others-would understand. And while Jonas might have wanted an explanation, Jack hadn’t felt compelled to give him one. If Jonas was really curious, sooner or later he’d ask Teal’c and that would have to suffice.
As for Sam…it bothered him that he wanted to explain to Sam, even more, that he needed to explain to her. He wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done to reach his ultimate goal, so he wasn’t sure why Sam’s understanding-or maybe it was her forgiveness-had become so important to him. And he was getting absolutely no where with his current train of thought, so he grabbed his pencil.
“Well, crap,” he muttered when the pencil lead broke; nothing was going his way. Tossing the pencil into the garbage can he started scrounging around on Hammond’s desk, pulling open drawers in search of another pencil. As he pulled open the bottom drawer and saw the stack of official looking papers, he decided maybe it wasn’t such a smart idea to be going through the General’s desk drawers, when the name on the top sheet caught his eye. Curious now, he looked around quickly and seeing no one in the briefing room, carefully extracted the paper.
What the hell…Jack frowned, reading the transfer request form twice, a cold rage filling him as its meaning sunk in. He crumpled it up in his hand, preparing to throw it into the garbage, when he realized the futility of the gesture, she’d just submit another one and he’d be damned if he’d let her do that. With the offending paper still in his hand, Jack strode out of the General’s office and went in search of his Major.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly, the equations on the computer screen dancing drunkenly before her. She desperately needed a break, but she felt like she was working against a deadline, self-imposed as it was. Hammond would be back at the end of the week and he had promised her an answer on his return, an answer she both desired and dreaded.
Signing her name to the transfer request had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but when she had dredged up the memory of that moment in Nirrti’s chamber when she’d met the Colonel’s eyes over the body of the dead woman, she had quickly scribbled her name on the paper. She tried to tell herself that she hadn’t truly been aware of what lengths he would go to for her, but that was a lie, she had known the extent of her power over him ever since that disastrous trip to Antarctica. Leaving might be the coward’s way out, but she really didn’t see any other alternative.
When she got a different answer to the formula for the fifth time, Sam decided it was finally time to stop. Stretching and rubbing the small of her back, she pressed save and prepared to close down the rest of her running programs when the door to her lab swung open-and then just as quickly slammed shut.
“Colonel.” He looked hard and dangerous and she instinctively stood up, carefully keeping her work table between them.
“So,” he said, with a nonchalance that was at odds with the tension she could see emanating from him. “Finished for the day?”
“Just about.”
“Then you’ll have time to explain this to me.” He tossed a crumpled piece of paper down in front of her.
With one glance she recognized what it was. A momentary sense of panic filled her as she wondered wildly how he had gotten it, when she realized it didn’t really matter how he had found it. The confrontation she had been hoping to put off was now no longer an option. Picking it up, she smoothed out some of the creases, her mind racing as she searched for the words to explain her decision to him.
“I need a change.” She looked up at him then, schooling herself not to react to the disbelief she saw in his eyes.
“A change?” he murmured. His voice was so mild that anyone else might have been fooled, but she couldn’t claim such naivety. “From what?”
After all they had been through, she owed him an honest answer, but she wasn’t sure she knew what the truth was anymore. She had seen deeper into his soul in that moment in Nirrti’s chamber than she wanted and what she saw there had frightened her to her core.
“I’ve actually been thinking about this for awhile now,” she lied. Shrugging, she set the incriminating document back down on the table. “Now seemed like a good time.”
“I never took you for a coward, Sam.”
She did flinch then at the contempt in his voice, but she wasn’t going to let him rattle her. “I apologize, sir, for not coming to you sooner-”
“Cut the crap, Carter,” he interrupted. “You and I both know this isn’t about you needing a change. This is about you running away.”
Maybe she was running, but she was tired and in no mood to discuss her reasons with him when he wasn’t going to listen. Closing her laptop, she kept her voice calm, yet firm. “With all due respect, sir, we should discuss this tomorrow, when you’re feeling more reasonable.”
“Reasonable? You want reasonable?”
He advanced on her then and while she kept reminding herself that she wasn’t frightened of him, she found herself backing up until she was trapped between his hard body and the wall.
She had seriously misjudged him and it was too late to try and explain. He was so close she could hear him breathing, and could feel the movement of his chest against hers when he leaned closer and whispered in her ear.
“What bothers you the most, Carter?” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. “The fact that I killed her or that I screwed her?”
Sam shivered, and god help her, she didn’t know if it was from his words or his proximity. “You did what you had to do, sir,” she whispered.
“So let me get this straight,” he drawled, using that mocking tone she despised. “You understand yet you still requested a transfer?”
She nodded, swallowing convulsively. He was too close and she was far too susceptible to him.
“Then I guess I won’t be breaking any regulations when I do this.” His mouth was coolly possessive and she was so shocked, she stood immobile while his lips molded persuasively against hers. And then it was almost too late, as she felt herself sinking into the tangled morass of desire and love that defined the complex web of emotions that bound her to this man.
“No,” she murmured weakly, pushing against his chest. His mouth slid from hers then, one large hand kneading her breast through her T-shirt. “I won’t let you do this.”
“You want it, Sam,” he muttered. She moaned softly when he bit her ear lobe. “We both want it.”
“Not like this,” she protested. Sam could feel the insidious lure of desire weakening her, so she pushed harder at his chest and finally managed to break free. Wiping her hand across her mouth, she backed away from him, breathing heavily. “I won’t let you control me the way you tried to control her.”
Something dark and unbearably bleak flashed briefly in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant, leaving a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t thought his eyes could get any colder than they had when he’d had his hands wrapped around Nirrti’s throat and she wanted to weep when he his voice cut through her like ice.
“I’ll make sure Hammond signs your transfer request as soon as he returns.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was so not a good idea, Sam told herself for at least the hundredth time, still trying to bolster her flagging nerve and failing miserably. Her hand was actually on the keys still hanging from the ignition, when the porch light suddenly sprang on. She froze, like a deer caught in the oncoming headlights of a car, when he stood silhouetted in the open door. She still almost turned tail, but then she remembered that brief moment of agony she’d seen in his eyes. She’d already caused him so much pain, she decided grimly, yanking the keys out of the ignition and opening the car door, she wouldn’t be responsible for any more.
Forcing herself to leave the security of her car, she calmly walked up the stairs and onto his porch, sidling past him as he held the door open in silent invitation. The interior was dark except for a small table lamp in the living room and she followed its comforting light. A bottle of Scotch and a small glass still containing a few drops of the amber liquid sat accusingly on the end table. Shivering slightly, she gravitated towards the fireplace where a feeble flame flickered amongst the smoldering embers.
He followed her in, still silent and Sam watched him solemnly as he sat back down in the leather arm chair and poured more Scotch into the glass. In his first direct acknowledgement of her presence he held the glass out to her. She shook her head and he merely shrugged, tossing the amber liquid back in one swallow.
“So, to what do I owe the honor?”
His idle tone was sarcastic and she would have walked out then if not for the faint weariness she sensed in his voice and his posture. They’d both already lost so much the past few months, she couldn’t bear to lose anymore, even if it meant sacrificing her so-called career.
“You think I don’t understand why you did what you did on 367-”
“Haven’t we already had this discussion?” he interrupted, a look of bored disinterest on his face.
She ignored him. “So explain it to me.” It was a challenge-and a plea-and when he continued to sit silently, she turned her back to him and stared unseeing into the dying embers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack poured another shot of Scotch, seeking the elusive fortification offered by the stinging burn of the smooth liquid down his throat. He wasn’t drunk, unfortunately he was far from it, given that his main intent all evening had been to use the temporary reprieve from his tangled thoughts that the alcohol might provide. But she was here now and maybe she deserved an explanation before she left SG1-and him.
He picked up the bottle of Scotch again, but just as quickly set it down; no amount of alcohol would make this any easier. Sighing inaudibly, he scrubbed his hand over his face and looked at her tense, silent back. So much had lain unspoken between them for so long, he wondered if he’d be able to actually get the words out. But god, he was so fucking tired and if he was going to go down for this, he was going to take her with him.
“Everything I did, I did for you.” Her back stiffened and the already tense atmosphere in the room ratcheted up another ten degrees. Deciding he did need a drink, Jack poured another liberal shot of Scotch into his glass, swirling it around absently before taking a sip.
“Come on, Carter,” he said in a surprisingly mellow tone, almost cajoling her. “I took a snake for you and you’re surprised that I would kill for you?”
That got a response from her; she turned slowly from her in-depth study of the fireplace and she gazed at him with sad blue eyes. “I know,” she said softly. “I’ve always known.”
She turned back towards the fire again and he could barely hear her when she continued speaking. “That’s why I vowed after you were…” she hesitated just briefly, “...sick to never put you in that position again.” Her laugh was bitter. “For all the good it did me.”
Okay, he was confused now and it had nothing to do with the Scotch he’d indulged in and everything to do with the stricken woman standing in front of him. “Excuse me?”
“Sir…Jack….” She looked over her shoulder at him and paused briefly, her eyes flashing to his for the briefest of moments before she continued. “I don’t want you losing your soul for me!”
He didn’t doubt her, she virtually radiated sincerity and he realized that after all they’d been through and for all her brains, she still didn’t have a clue. He stood then, his movements controlled and deliberate as he took the few steps that brought him to her. She turned, standing defiantly in front of him and he felt some of the pain that had encased his heart start to melt away. She flinched when he framed her face with his hands, but she stood her ground and he felt a surge of pride. “You just don’t get it. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have a soul.”
Her smile was wry. “I doubt that’s true. But it’s nice of you to say.”
The relief that surged through him was unexpected and he relaxed a little bit. “So why all this drama? The whole resignation thing?”
She wrenched out of his grasp then. “And you say I don’t get it.”
“Don’t play games with me, Sam.”
“I’m not ‘playing games’ with you, sir,” she spat.
Jack went rigid at the honorific, slightly off balance at her vehemence and then his eyes narrowed. “So what is it, Sam? Are you pissed at me because I fucked her or because I killed the bitch? Because if you think I enjoyed any of it, then you don’t know me at all.”
“Maybe I know you better than you think,” she retorted almost defiantly. “And that’s what scares you the most.”
Jack felt his control start to unravel and grabbed her by her shoulders. “She was going to kill you, worse than that, she was going to make you her host.” He shook her slightly, his emotions careening out of control. “I love you,” he practically shouted, “and if fucking some Goa’uld is what it takes to save your life, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The look of horrified shock on his face would have been comical under any other circumstances and Sam didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But beneath the incipient panic, she felt a thrill of pure satisfaction at his admission. She hadn’t set out to break him, and up until a moment ago, she would have maintained that such a thing was impossible. The balance of power had tipped unexpectedly in her favor and the giddy rush that surged through her was both exhilarating and unnerving.
For the first time in months she felt in control and it felt good…until she looked in his eyes and saw his soul, naked and bleeding in front of her. He didn’t beg, he didn’t plead, he didn’t make excuses or try to retract his words; he stood in front of her, his dark eyes never wavering as he waited for her reaction. And the love that had always been there, hidden and dormant, roared to fierce life within her. Surrender had never been so easy than in that moment when recognized that it had never been about power but had always been about love.
The barest shadow of regret flickered across face; his hands sliding almost reluctantly down her arms and when his fingers tangled briefly with hers, she grabbed his hands and held on tight.
“I know,” she repeated, echoing her earlier acknowledgement. Releasing his left hand, she reached up and caressed his cheek, the slight rasp of his evening stubble tingling against her finger tips. “I would never ask you to love me like that.” His eyes darkened until they were almost black and the hand still holding hers squeezed so tightly she almost winced. “But I’m glad you do.”
Sliding her hand to his nape, she pressed lightly and she rose up to meet him. When their breath mingled, she caught the faint hint of Scotch and then their lips met. His tenderness surprised her after their earlier kiss in her lab, his mouth gently persuasive now instead of coldly demanding and she wondered dimly through her growing desire if it was an intentional move on his part. But then he deepened the kiss and Sam opened her mouth to his questing tongue, deliberately blocking the practical part of her nature that warned of the foolishness of giving into her desires…and her need.
Rules and regulations wouldn’t keep her warm at night nor prevent either of them from dying without knowing whether all that they had denied for so long had been worth the sacrifice. He had descended into hell because of her and now it was her turn to rescue him. Of course, she’d wanted him so long that it was hardly a fair trade-off, but if she was bent on potential self-destruction, she was going to go out in a blaze of glory.
The reality of finally giving into her long-suppressed need was almost more intoxicating than the power of his kisses. Pressing closer, she rubbed herself wantonly against him, liquid desire pooling low in her belly. She moaned softly when he finally freed her mouth and she clung helplessly to him, her mouth already seeking his again.
“Jack,” she protested faintly, when he effortlessly evaded her attempts to recapture his mouth. He didn’t leave her bereft for long, swinging her up into his arms and she sighed contentedly, looping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his throat. She took a shuddering breath, pressing a soft kiss to his neck before closing her eyes and nestling against him for the short trip to his bedroom.
When he lowered her to the bed, she released him only because he gave her no other choice and she forced herself to relax back against the soft pillows. There was the faint click of a lamp switch and soft light flooded the room. He stood beside the bed, one hand already tugging at his belt, his eyes hooded as he looked down at her. It perhaps spoke of his confidence-or his arrogance-that he didn’t question her capitulation, but then she’d made her decision the moment she’d gotten into her car and arrived unannounced at his house.
Driven by the urgency of her need, Sam wasn’t content to wait idly for her lover. Kicking her shoes off, she rose up on her knees and she knelt at the edge of the bed; grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him toward her. Their mouths met again in an even hungrier kiss, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as her lips clung greedily to his. And while his hands moved with greater certainty, it seemed to take an exceedingly long time-that was interrupted by much stroking and caressing-before they were both naked and she succeeded in pulling him down onto the bed with her.
Jack landed on top of her with precise control and she immediately cradled him, wrapping her arms and legs around him, his mouth fastening on hers in a kiss made no-less frantic by their now excruciatingly intimate contact. She wanted to memorize each moment, each new sensation; the surprisingly heavy weight of his lean body against hers, the incredibly erotic sensation of his skin brushing against hers in so many delightful and unexpected ways and the ache that pooled deep inside her with every beat of his heart that was echoed in the hard flesh even now pressed so demandingly between her thighs.
But her need for him quickly overpowered her vague yearnings to catalog each sensation and her hands ran down his back in an urgent caress, desire heavy in her voice as she urged him closer. “Jack…please.”
His answering smile was faintly predatory and she felt a momentary chill chase through her, barely repressed memories of those last vivid moments in Nirrti’s chambers flashing before her eyes, providing a potent reminder of all the facets of her lover’s character. And then she looked in his eyes and found the reassurance she hadn’t realized she needed. He had said he loved her and while she might have questioned his words, she couldn’t question the emotion she saw burning deep in his eyes; she could see into his very soul and she saw only love reflected there.
Sam owed him the same honesty in return. “I love you.” This time the flare of deep satisfaction on his face didn’t alarm her; it merely mirrored the same fierce passion she felt for him.
“Sam,” he groaned, his eyes burning into hers. When his muscles tensed beneath her hands, she kept her eyes glued to his face as she felt him start to move. She felt like she was drowning in his arms, the intensity of the emotions running through her was almost overwhelming. She had loved-and been loved-before; but all her previous lovers faded into insignificance when she gave herself to Jack. This wasn’t some casual fling or friends with benefits, this was forever.
Beyond the sheer enormity of acting on their feelings was the physical reality when he pressed into her. Sensation was intensified, every cell in her body so hyper-aware that if she hadn’t been grounded in him, she knew she would have spiraled away into nothingness. As it was, she reveled in the exquisite fullness as he completed his possession and when he started moving in deep, measured strokes, all she could do was cling to him and follow where he led.
It shouldn’t have surprised her that she was so responsive to him; hadn’t she spent years denying the attraction between them, instinctively knowing once it was set free it could never be contained? Even given that, she was still unprepared for the ease with which he aroused her, his name a broken sob on her lips when rapture finally coalesced and cascaded through her. Pleasure spiraled out of control inside her until her consciousness dimmed and she surrendered herself, body and soul to Jack, trusting him to keep her safe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack collapsed heavily on top of her, random tremors still racing through him in the aftermath of his explosive orgasm. Nuzzling her neck, he inhaled deeply, the fresh scent of her shampoo mixed with the slightly muskier undertones of sex nothing like the overpoweringly redolent atmosphere of Nirrti’s chambers. In fact, nothing about his current position was remotely similar to what had happened to him at her hands. Sam’s capable hands moved caressingly through his hair, gliding gently over his shoulders and back in a touch he knew was meant to soothe, yet was surprisingly erotic.
He could stay in her arms this way forever-replete and finally satisfied-but it was an edgy contentment that seemed to mock him with the uncomfortable realization that he had indeed sold his soul. But not for Nirrti and certainly not for God and country, but for what he cynically suspected was passion cleverly disguised as love. But, god help him, he did love her and that confession revealed a vulnerability that terrified him more than any Goa’uld.
Sam stirred beneath him and with belated concern, he carefully moved off her, automatically pulling her into his arms when she curled up against him. His fingers lightly toyed with her hair and he wondered how upset she’d be if he reached over, shut out the light and pretended to sleep. And then she spoke.
“It’s okay.” His arms fell from around her when she rose up on one elbow and looked down at him. She looked so gorgeous, all rumpled and drowsy from sex, that he thought his heart would break. “I understand.”
Well, he was glad one of them understood, because he was clueless. Her smile was indulgent and tender, given the circumstances that had brought them together, and he wondered why she didn’t run screaming from his bed. “What do you understand?” he asked, smoothing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.
“You.” She kissed his nose. “And you’re thinking too much.”
“Don’t get accused of that too often.” She snorted delicately and he cradled her cheek with one hand, his eyes searching hers. He had used casually spoken words of love and the power of carnal satisfaction to further his own ends more times than he really wanted to acknowledge and he wasn’t sure he could change this late in his life, but the trust and love he could see in her deep blue eyes gave him hope.
“Sam…there’s this,” he paused, trying to think of something less melodramatic but finally just giving up and hoping she really did understand, “darkness inside me-”
“Shhh…” she interrupted, placing a finger over his lips. “Been there, done that.”
“And that’s it?” He wanted to believe her…he needed to believe her.
“It can be.” She spoke the words calmly enough, but Jack could see the fine tension in her face and feel it radiating through the body pressed so close against his.
When she had walked into his home he hadn’t been expecting redemption and while deep in his soul the darkness derided his weakness, Jack found he couldn’t refuse. Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled, once more settling over her and capturing her lips in a deeply possessive kiss, sealing their bond in the most fundamental way possible. She melted into him and as he sank deeper into the morass of love and desire that engulfed them, he prayed that when the darkness finally shattered her, she didn’t take his soul with her into the abyss.
THE END