Author Notes: Warnings: references to rape, torture and self-harm. Strong language also.

PART ONE

"Carter?"

"I'm assigning Sam Carter to this mission."

"I'd prefer to put together my own team, sir."

"Not on this mission; sorry. Carter's our expert on the Stargate."

"Where's he transferring from?"

"SHE is transferring from the Pentagon."

Colonel Jack O'Neill looked up as a woman in dress blues entered, walking over to stand by the empty chair across from him. 'Oy; they're getting younger!', he groused. Big blue eyes, short blonde hair - pretty enough, but he'd never risk a twenty-year Air Force career for a piece of tail.

"I take it you're Colonel O'Neill." She saluted. "Captain Samantha Carter reporting, sir."

O'Neill returned the salute.

"But of course you go by 'Sam'," Kawalsky taunted.

Carter smiled slightly. "You don't have to worry, Major," she retorted. "I played with dolls when I was a kid."

"GI Joe?"

"No. Major Matt Mason."

"Oh." Kawalsky looked over at Ferretti, confused. "Who?"

Ferretti smiled. "Major Matt Mason, astronaut doll. Did you have that cool little backpack that made him fly?"

General Hammond, evidently tired of the digression, said; "Let's get started. Colonel?"

Carter took her seat.

"Thank you," O'Neill said. "For those of you on your first trip through the Stargate, you should be prepared for what to expect."

"I've practically memorized your report from the first mission. I'd like to think I've been preparing for this all my life."

'Oh, for cryin' out loud; let me finish, CAPTAIN!', O'Neill thought, annoyed.

"I think what the Colonel is saying is ... have you ever pulled out of a simulated bombing run in an F-16 at eight plus Gs?"

"Yes."

Kawalsky blinked. "Well ... it's way worse than that."

"By the time you get to the other side, you're frozen stiff like you've just been through a blizzard ... naked," Ferretti added.

Carter didn't seem impressed. "That's a result of the compression your molecules undergo during the MILLISECOND required for reconstitution."

"Oh, here we go; another scientist," O'Neill complained. "General ... please."

"Theoretical astrophysicist." Carter didn't miss a beat.

"Which means ...?" O'Neill prodded.

"Which means she is smarter than you are, Colonel. Especially in matters related to the Stargate," Hammond told him.

Kawalsky and Ferretti chuckled at that. O'Neill stared at them and they tried to look serious. O'Neill didn't buy it - he'd known them both too long.

"Colonel, I was studying the 'gate technology for two years before Daniel Jackson made it work and before you both went through. I should have gone through then. But sir, you and your MEN might as well accept the fact that I AM going through this time."

"Well, with all due respect, Doctor ...," O'Neill began. Theoretical astrophysicist - had to be a PhD.

"It is appropriate to refer to a person by their rank, not their salutation," Carter interrupted, sounding peeved. "You should call me 'Captain', not 'Doctor'."

"Captain Carter's assignment to this unit is not an option, it's an order," Hammond told the two combatants.

"I'm an Air Force officer just like you are, Colonel. And just because my reproductive organs are on the inside instead of the outside doesn't mean I can't handle whatever you can handle."

'Euw ... Just ... euwwww.' O'Neill sat down. "Oh, this has nothing to do with you being a woman." He smirked at her slightly, hoping to knock the chip off her shoulder. "I LIKE women. I've just got a little problem with scientists."

"Colonel; I logged over a hundred hours in enemy airspace during the Gulf War. Is that tough enough for you? Or are we going to have to arm wrestle?"

Kawalski and Ferretti had stopped smirking by now, and O'Neill felt a grudging respect for the young woman. She had guts; he'd give her that. It wasn't too many people who could stand up to him when he was in full 'O'Neill' mode.

Major Samuels spoke up at that point. "I hate to throw a damper on your enthusiasm, but I still say the safest, most logical way to deal with this is to bury the Stargate just like the ancient Egyptians did. Make it impossible for the aliens to return. It's the only way to eliminate the threat."

O'Neill manfully resisted rolling his eyes. "Except it won't work."

"It worked before," Hammond said. The balding, portly Texan was a far cry from General West - he'd called O'Neill's bluff neatly with the Mark 5. THIS was the kind of brass O'Neill could actually respect; had a very low BS tolerance, but seemed to have a sense of humor.

"They know what we are now. They know how far we've come. We're a threat to THEM. They've got ships, General. Ra had one as big as the Great Pyramids. They don't need the Stargate to get here. They can do it the old-fashioned way." He nodded over to Samuels. "Now with all due respect to Mister Glass-Is-Half-Empty over here, don't you think we should use the Stargate to do a little reconnaissance before they come back ... again?"

He looked briefly over at Carter and saw her quickly bury a grin at his slam. Huh; at least she had a sense of humor.

"I'll give you exactly 24 hours to either return or send a message through," Hammond said. "No Kleenex boxes, please." He stood up, and everyone followed suit. "Otherwise, we'll assume the worst ... and send a bomb through."

"Understood," O'Neill said.

++++

Captain Samantha Carter watched as the team headed up the ramp and through the Stargate. She stared at the wormhole, transfixed.

"Captain?" Colonel O'Neill prompted.

Carter collected herself. "Don't worry, Colonel," she said. "I won't let you down."

"Good," O'Neill said. "I WAS gonna say 'Ladies first'."

He headed up the ramp, and she followed him. She still didn't know what to make of him. At first glance, he seemed your typical Colonel - hard-headed and severe. And that crack about scientists hadn't exactly endeared him to her. Yet he had a quirky sense of humor that belied that image. Men ... she would never understand them.

"You know; you really WILL like me when you get to know me," she said.

"Oh, I adore you already, Captain," O'Neill replied.

Ignoring him, Carter stared at the event horizon in awe. "My God ... look at this. The energy the 'gate must release to create a stable wormhole is ... is astronomical, to use exactly the right word." She reached out to touch it. "You can actually see the fluctuations in the event horizon."

She felt a hand on her back, then stumbled into the shimmering mass.

++++

Carter sat on the steps near the Stargate, hunched over. "Oh ... I think I'm going to be sick," she groaned. "Uhhh ...".

She felt someone pat her shoulder. "Maybe you shouldn't have had that big lunch," O'Neill told her.

Smart ass. Carter got to her feet and they all fanned out, checking the area. The chamber seemed to be empty. However, as they got a few feet away from the 'gate, an adolescent boy leapt out from behind a column, pointing a gun at them. Then more. Carter was puzzled; Colonel O'Neill's reports had indicated a pre-technological culture - where had they gotten Earth-issue weapons from?

"Ch'hari!" someone shouted. "Ch'hari! Lower your guns."

The young men obeyed, and Carter saw O'Neill turn to stare at the newcomer.

"Jack?" the man said. "Uhh ... welcome back."

O'Neill didn't reply, brushing past the man and heading straight for a young boy. The boy saluted and, grinning, O'Neill returned the salute. "Skaara," O'Neill said.

"O'Neill," the boy said. Carter blinked as the hardcore Special Ops trained Colonel wrapped the young man in a massive bear-hug, which the boy returned with interest. "I did not think to be seeing you again!"

O'Neill turned back to the other young man. "Daniel, how you doing?" he asked.

"Uh, good," Daniel returned. "You?"

"Much better, now that I see that everybody's okay."

"Greetings from Earth, Doctor Jackson," Ferretti said, parting his fingers into the Vulcan salute.

Doctor Jackson grinned slightly. "Hello, Ferretti."

"Brought you a little something, Daniel," Kawalsky said. He handed Doctor Jackson a miniature pack of tissues.

The man received it with a half amused, half irritated look. "Kawalsky ...," he said. So ... these guys had a history, Carter decided. Maybe the Colonel's grudge against scientists wasn't as ingrained as she'd imagined. A hand drew back a curtain and a lovely dark-haired woman peered out curiously.

"Sha're, don't be shy," Doctor Jackson said, holding out a hand to her. She came to stand next to him, and Doctor Jackson put his arm round her.

"Hi," O'Neill said, shaking her hand. "Good to see you."

Carter wandered over to examine the dial-home device. So small, yet so powerful. She traced some of the symbols curiously, listening to the conversation with half her attention.

"So, I ... figured it would be a matter of time before you had to tell the truth about us still being here," Daniel said.

"Yeah," O'Neill replied. "Why the militia? Something else come through?"

"No, we're just taking precautions. Why?"

"Amazing!" Carter said. "This is what was missing from the dig at Giza." Carter felt her mouth split into a wide smile. "This is how they controlled it. It took us fifteen years and three supercomputers to MacGyver a system for the 'gate on Earth."

"Captain?" O'Neill queried.

Carter ignored him. "Look how small it is!" she laughed.

"Captain!" O'Neill barked. Carter looked up and O'Neill jerked his head over.

She went over to him and Daniel, then shook hands with the Doctor. "Doctor Jackson, I presume. I'm Doctor Samantha Carter."

"I thought you wanted to be called 'Captain'," O'Neill jibed.

Carter grimaced. Just what the hell was this man's problem?

Daniel looked uneasy. "What's going on, Jack?"

"Six hostile aliens came through the Stargate on Earth. Four people are dead, one's missing."

"One of them looked like Ra, Daniel," Kawalsky added.

"Well, they didn't come from here," Daniel said. "I mean ... the boys take shifts guarding it 36 hours a day. Every day. We'd know if they came through here."

"Well, they came from somewhere, Daniel," O'Neill pointed out. "I'm going to have to look around."

"I ... I think I can help you find out who it was, but, uh, it's going to have to wait till this sandstorm is over." Daniel paused. "Uh ... we were about to have our evening meal. Why don't you join us?"

++++

Carter watched as the young boy, Skaara, came over to O'Neill, who was sitting next to her. He carried two canoe shaped bowls full of a clear liquid. "This too," he said.

O'Neill took one. "What's this?"

"Drink."

O'Neill sniffed the liquid cautiously. "MOONSHINE?"

"Moon ... shine?" Skaara repeated curiously.

"Yeah. Moonshine. As in ... booze. Daniel; what're you teaching these kids?" He and Carter looked over at Daniel. Daniel looked over innocently.

"Try it," Skaara persisted.

"All right," O'Neill said. He sniffed it. "Skaara's moonshine. Give it a little shot." He took a drink, then choked. "Ho!" he jerked out.

Everyone started laughing. It might have been career suicide, but Carter couldn't help joining in the laughter.

"Smooth," O'Neill said hoarsely. "Very smooth."

Skaara laughed. "Moonshine!" he exclaimed.

"Your little soldiers are all grown up, Colonel," Kawalsky said sarcastically.

"Yeah, I'm so proud," O'Neill replied, still sounding hoarse. "Whoa ...".

"O'Neill." Skaara reached into a pocket and proffered a silver lighter. "Your lighter?"

"No; it's yours," O'Neill said. "I gave that to you to keep. Remember?"

"Thank you," Skaara said, then turned and made his way through the crowd.

"You know, he's never let that out of his sight the whole time you were gone," Daniel said.

"Yeah?" O'Neill said. He seemed a little uncomfortable with the boy's evident adulation.

"So this ... this man who looked like Ra, he must have come through another 'gate," Daniel said.

Carter's head jerked up at that. "What other 'gate?" she queried.

"A Stargate?" O'Neill seemed just as skeptical.

"The Stargate only goes here," Carter pointed out.

"I think you're wrong about that," Daniel said.

Oh; so he was an astrophysicist as well as an archeologist? "I ... I was there," Carter replied. "We ran hundreds of permutations."

"But you didn't have what you need."

O'Neill said impatiently; "Daniel, what are you talking about?"

Skaara pushed through the crowd again. "Dan-yel. The storm has passed."

Daniel stood up. "I'll show you. Sha're. Ben ra qui Jack to see the vili tao an."

The beautiful woman stood up, looking worried. "Bonni wai?"

"I won't be long."

Daniel kissed her on the forehead, and she pulled his lips to hers for a prolonged, deep kiss. O'Neill looked surprised then amused, and the group erupted in good-natured hooting and laughter until Sha're finally broke the kiss. Daniel looked ... dazed. "Goodbye, my Dan-yel." She kissed him again briefly.

Daniel snapped out of it. "Bye."

O'Neill got up, followed by Carter and Kawalsky.

"Hold the fort," Kawalsky said.

"Yes, sir," Ferretti returned.

++++

O'Neill followed his team out of the pyramid into the desert and donned his sunglasses quickly.

"Boy; I can't say I missed this place," Kawalsky sniped.

"Come on," Daniel said.

He started off, followed by O'Neill and Kawalsky. Carter looked around. "This is just incredible," she said. O'Neill couldn't see what provoked such wonder, but he'd never been fond of deserts - even before his four months of hell ... He shut down that train of thought with the ease of long practice and carried on following Daniel.

They went down some steps leading to a temple, then followed Daniel and three native guides with burning torches. O'Neill, Carter and Kawalsky switched on their flashlights to illuminate their path better.

"So, I ... I figured that there had to be more to this place, so I started exploring ... um ... this area around the town and the pyramid at first," Daniel said. "And after about a month, I found this place. Uh ... Captain ... Doctor ..." - he addressed Carter - "you're going to love this."

Carter shone her flashlight around, although the central brazier provided enough light. The chamber was huge, lined by bird-headed statues alternating with cartouches of hieroglyphics. At the far end of the room is a gleaming symbol - the Eye of Ra. O'Neill knew enough about archeology to recognize THAT much. "Oh, my God," Carter said. "This is amazing. This is the archeological find of the century."

She shone the light on the nearest section of hieroglyphics, moving to get a closer look. O'Neill and Daniel followed. "Daniel; you had a chance to translate this yet?" he asked.

"I think so," Daniel said.

"What's it say?"

"Well ... uh ... it ... it doesn't say anything. Actually, it's sort of a chart, more of a map."

"Of ...?" Daniel was a nice enough kid, but he sometimes had trouble getting to the point.

"Well, I haven't been able to analyze all of it. I mean ..." - he gestured around the chamber - "look at it. It would take my whole life."

"Well, Daniel, we don't have that long," O'Neill patronized. "What's it a map of?"

"Well ... the cartouches seem to be separated clearly into groupings. Each grouping is attached to the others by a series of lines, and each grouping contains seven symbols, so you can see where this is going, of course."

"Tell us anyway."

"All of the symbols are on the Stargate in the Abydos chamber. I've also managed to chart some of them in the Abydos sky, or at least pretty close. Jack, I think this is a map of a vast network of Stargates, Stargates that are ... are all over the galaxy."

"Uh ... I don't think that can be, Doctor," Carter said skeptically.

"Why not?"

"Well, because after Colonel O'Neill and his team came back, my team tried hundreds of symbol permutations using Earth as the point of origin, and it never worked."

"Well, I tried the same here and it didn't work either. But I figured the destinations I tried are either destroyed or ... buried, but some of them somewhere must still exist."

"I don't think so."

"Then where did your Ra look-alike come from?"

"Yeah," O'Neill said triumphantly.

Carter was rendered speechless.

"I ... I don't pretend to know anything about astrophysics, but couldn't the planets change?" Daniel said. "I mean, uh ... drift apart or something like that to throw this map off?"

Carter looked thoughtful, then pleased. "I knew I'd like you," she said.

Daniel looked surprised. "You mean I'm right?"

"According to the expanding universe model, all bodies in the universe are constantly moving apart."

"So in the thousands of years since the Stargate was built ...". Daniel joined the Captain in her geek-out moment.

"All the coordinates could have changed."

"But why does it still work between Abydos and Earth?"

"Abydos is probably the closest planet in the network to Earth. I mean, the closer they are, the less the difference in relative position due to expansion. The further away, the greater the difference. In a few thousand more years, it won't work between Earth and Abydos either."

"Unless you can adjust for the displacement."

"Right. Now with this map as a base, that should be easy. All we have to do is correct for Doppler shift."

'Oh, for cryin' out loud - TWO scientist geeks!', O'Neill thought, sharing a confused look with Kawalsky.

"Then I should be able to arrive at a computer model that will predict the adjustments necessary to get the 'gate working again," Carter was saying.

Kawalsky lost his cool. "Okay. So what did we just figure out?"

"Any civilization advanced enough to build this 'gate network would be able to compensate for fifty thousand years of stellar drift."

O'Neill looked up at the cartouches. "So ... the Stargate can go other places."

"The aliens could have come from anywhere!" Carter said excitedly, seeming to forget that those aliens had killed four good men.

O'Neill shook his head. Scientists ...

++++

Well ... another day. Another stinking cell. Peachy. O'Neill glared around the dungeon after Daniel's wife and the Ra wannabe had left. "I saw Sha're," Daniel said in shock. "She was ...".

Carter pulled him to his feet as O'Neill made his way through the crowd to them. "If there's a way out of here, I haven't found it yet. But ..." - he pointed a thumb over his shoulder - "look what I did find."

Skaara appeared from the crowd, delighted to see Daniel. "Dan-yel! You're okay!" He rushed over to Daniel, and they hugged.

Daniel coughed. "Yeah; I think so." He coughed again and started to sag forward.

O'Neill steadied him, then eased him down. "Easy, big guy. Welcome back to the land of the conscious."

"O'Neill told me about Sha're," Skaara said.

"Jack, help me," Daniel said desperately. "We can find her again."

"Daniel ... don't," O'Neill said. He addressed his team. "If we can't find a way out of here, the mission's a bust anyway. They seal the Gate in just over ninety minutes. Come on, Skaara. Let's find our way out of here." He stood up, to find himself facing a huge Serpent Guard. The guard grabbed his wrist roughly and turned it at an odd angle. "Ow!" O'Neill protested.

"What is this?" the big guy rumbled.

"It's a watch," O'Neill got out through the pain.

The Serpent Guard's helmet retracted to reveal a dark-skinned face. He looked curiously at the watch. "This is not Goa'uld technology," he said. "Where are you from?"

O'Neill didn't trust easily, but there was something about this guy ... "Earth," he said. "Chicago if you want to be specific," he added snarkily.

The guard cut him off abruptly. "Your words mean nothing," he said. "Where are you from?"

Daniel squatted. "Ah, excuse me," he said. The guard looked down as Daniel drew a symbol in the dirt; a triangle with a small circle at its apex. "This is where we're from."

The guard stared at it for a second, then took his staff, sweeping the tail end of the staff through the dirt, completely eradicating the symbol. He closed his helmet and turned away.

++++

O'Neill hoisted himself up to a tiny window, peering out. He dropped back down to the floor, where Skaara was standing, looking out in case any guards noticed. Daniel and Carter watched from a distance.

"So Ra isn't dead after all," Carter mused.

'Ya think?', O'Neill snarked.

"It wasn't Ra. It was Apophis," Daniel said.

"Who?" Carter asked blankly.

"Um ... it's from Egyptian mythology. Ra was the sun god who ruled the day, Apophis was the serpent god, Ra's rival, who ruled the night. It's right out of the Book of the Dead. These people are living it."

Paying little attention to the lecture, O'Neill and Skaara continued along the back wall, trying to scout out a weak point in the wall or a window that would budge. "We will save Sha're?" Skaara asked.

"I can't promise you anything at the moment," O'Neill temporized, still checking out the wall.

Skaara grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. "But you're a great warrior! We defeated Ra together!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but take a look around here. Look at what we're up against." Skaara just looked at O'Neill defiantly, and he patted the boy's shoulder. "We'll try," he added.

The dungeon doors opened again and O'Neill grimaced. This could not be good. He took Skaara aside toward the center of the room. The crowd gathered at the foot of the steps as the Serpent Guards filed in. That big one followed. "Sha'ka ha! Kree hol mel, Goa'uld!" he barked.

"What did he say?" O'Neill asked.

"They are going to choose," Skaara told him.

"Choose what?" Carter asked.

"Who will be the children of the gods."

The Serpent Guards formed a U-shaped formation, those at the head partially down the steps. A group of Jaffa carried in a gilded, curtained litter, whose occupants couldn't be seen. They set the litter down at the head of the stairs. "Jaffa!" the big guy barked.

The Ra wannabe ... Apophis ... threw back the curtain of the litter and stepped out, glancing at the crowd before turning back to the litter and helping Sha're step out as well. She stood beside Apophis.

"Sha're," Daniel said. He started forward, but Carter and O'Neill grabbed his arms and held him back before he could do anything stupid. "Jack; help me, please ...".

"Daniel; don't," O'Neill said. "Don't."

The Serpent Guards descended the stairs into the crowd, moving to stand in two lines to create a protective aisle in the center of the crowd for Apophis and Sha're to move through safely. The big guy spread his arms, moving to the back wall of the dungeon. "Benah! Ya wan, ya duru!" The Jaffa bearing the litter rushed down and into the crowd, shoving people to their knees. "Kneel before your masters!"

Carter and Daniel were shoved down. O'Neill glanced over at the big guy, catching his eye. He nodded slightly, and O'Neill knelt. Skaara remained standing, angry and defiant. "Skaara," O'Neill said warningly.

Reluctantly, Skaara got down on his knees. Several Ra wannabes, all dressed ornately, filed out of the litter, moving down the stairs to look over the prisoners.

"Benah! Ya wan, ya duru! Choose!" the big guy said.

As the first pair started across the floor, one of the litter bearers hurried into their path, holding up a young girl for their inspection. The male gave the girl a cursory glance. "No." The litter bearer immediately tossed her aside, throwing the girl roughly to the floor. Carter winced.

O'Neill glanced over at the big guy again and was surprised to see a flash of distaste on the stoic countenance. Two litter bearers brought another girl over to the pair. The male looked her over, turning her chin to look at her face. "This one. We choose this one," he said.

The girl screamed and cried as the litter bearers carried her off out of the dungeon.

A second couple came next, surveying the prisoners. As they approached O'Neill and his team, Daniel shoved past the Serpent Guards, grabbing hold of the male's robe. The guards grabbed him by the arms and restrained him. O'Neill stepped forward, but stopped as two staff weapons were pointed at him. Oy. This was getting REALLY old.

The male studied Daniel. "This one's passionate," he decided.

"How much would I remember if you chose me?" Daniel asked desperately.

"Daniel, what are you doing?" O'Neill asked.

"Something of the host must survive," Daniel said, now close to tears.

O'Neill noticed the mask of indifference drop from the big guy's face as he shook his head. Maybe this guy COULD help them ...

"We choose ..." - the male's gaze moved past Daniel to Carter. "Her."

++++

This had been a BAD day.

A REALLY bad day.

O'Neill sighed and ran his hand through his short brown hair, leaving it sticking up stupidly, then opened the refrigerator. He took out three bottles of beer, handing one each to Daniel and Kawalsky and keeping the other for himself.

"How's ... uh ... Teal'c doing?" Daniel said uneasily.

O'Neill could understand Daniel's discomfort around the Jaffa - after all, the guy had personally selected Sha're for implantation. But he was doing his best to make Teal'c feel welcome and O'Neill was proud of him.

"Okay," he said, "but they're keeping an eye on him." The big Jaffa had come through for O'Neill after Carter had been taken, but they'd not been in time to rescue the young Captain. And turns out her dad was a USAF Major General. He sighed. That was ONE conversation he was not looking forward to having.

"He's a prisoner," Daniel said, sucking down his beer. "Call a spade a spade, Jack."

"Okay; so they don't trust him yet," Kawalsky said. "If you hadn't seen what we saw, would YOU trust him?"

Daniel bit his lip. "I'm not sure I DO trust him," he said quietly. "I know the Jaffa have been enslaved by the Goa'uld for centuries, but ...". He shrugged. "He helped Apophis take my wife. That's gonna be hard to forgive." He belched and threw the empty bottle with surprising accuracy into the trash can. "Got any more of those, Jack?" he asked.

"Sure." O'Neill shrugged. The guy was a cheaper date than his wife - crap; make that soon to be ex-wife - so figured he'd only lose a couple beers. "Help yourself, Daniel."

"Ya know; I kinda feel bad about giving Carter such a hard time when we first met," Kawalsky said. He chuckled. "But she sure stood up for herself."

"Yeah," O'Neill said. He hadn't known the young woman long enough to form a lasting impression of her, and part of him regretted that. There'd been a spark to her - something in her feisty attitude that had appealed to his more cynical nature. "Never match wits with a PhD, Kawalsky," he said.

"And she was pretty cute, too."

"IS cute, Kawalsky," Daniel said, sucking on his second beer. "She's not dead, d'you hear me?" He closed his eyes. "They're not dead."

"We'll get them back, Daniel," O'Neill promised. "I don't know how, and I don't know when, but we'll get them back."

++++

Klorel stretched his new host's slim body, appreciating the supple youth and warrior tones. The fact that it was a female had surprised him, but he'd had a female host once many hundreds of years ago and knew that they could be very strong. What they sometimes lacked in physical strength, they made up for in strength of mind; of will-power.

And she was beautiful, too. No Goa'uld wanted an unattractive host. And this Tauri fit the bill for a host nicely. Tall, slim, short light hair, large blue eyes, high cheekbones and full lips. She could have lived a life of luxury as an object of beauty had she been born on one of the Goa'uld-occupied worlds, but had chosen to serve with the Tauri's military forces.

This one was certainly strong, he mused. Even now, he could hear her berating him, calling him epithets in the Tauri language. The Tauri had suddenly become a threat, dispatching his father's enemy Ra with a frightening ease. This Tauri was therefore a perfect choice for a host. She had served with the infamous O'Neill and had studied the Chappa'ai technology extensively. And now ... all she knew would be his.

//Like hell, you snaky bastard!//, the host raged impotently.

Klorel smiled, then sent a sharp bolt of pain through to the young woman's head. She screamed silently, falling to the ground. //Be careful, my dear//, he warned her. //I will not be so tolerant of further impudence - and the pain that a Goa'uld can inflict on the host is unimaginable.//

//Go to hell//, she uttered softly, her resistance fading away with her consciousness.

Klorel was pleased at her capitulation, but did not fool himself into believing that it was permanent. It would take him a long time to break her, but break her he would. Samantha Carter would be no more ...

PART TWO

Three years later:

O'Neill strolled into the control room, joining Daniel, Teal'c, Kawalsky and Hammond.

"Still no incoming signal, sir," the tech told Hammond.

"All units are Earthside," Hammond replied.

Daniel blinked. "Is it my eyes or does the iris look kinda ...?" He waved his hand slightly.

"It's losing integrity," Kawalsky said.

A fat ginger cat appeared through the iris and padded down the ramp. 'Now, that's something you don't see every day,' O'Neill mused.

"Hold fire!" Kawalski shouted. He rushed down to the embarkation room and picked up the cat. He looked up with a sheepish grin as the cat cuddled against his chest. "It's Pasteur. The cat Doc Fraiser gave to the Tollan, Narim."

"Cat," O'Neill said snidely.

"The Tollan possess the technology to walk through solid matter," Teal'c said.

"A technology which, by the way if you all recall, they refused to share with us," O'Neill pointed out, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Wonder which member of the oh-so-advanced Tollan's waiting to drop a bombshell?" he groused.

"Colonel ...," Hammond warned him quietly.

A man emerged through the iris. Narim. Of course. When his people had first come to Earth, he and the Doc had been quite taken with each other. He came down the ramp as Fraiser entered the embarkation room. "General Hammond; I am unfamiliar with Earth protocol in these matters. I sent Pasteur so you would know a friend was coming."

"It's all right, Narim; the Tollan are welcome here. Units, stand down."

The SFs lowered their weapons as Narim continued on down the ramp to meet Fraiser. "Janet. It's good to see you again."

O'Neill waggled his eyebrows at Daniel. "Janet?" he mouthed. Daniel just snickered. The Tollan's crush on the petite Doctor had given them both some amusement, but they couldn't tease Doc too much - she had an alarming array of huge needles, and she wasn't scared to use 'em either. O'Neill winced involuntarily.

"It's good to see you too," Fraiser replied.

Hammond headed down to the embarkation room, followed closely by the remains of SG-1. "What can we do for you, Narim?" he asked.

"I am here to deliver a message from our highest governing body. Colonel O'Neill, the Tollan Curia requests the presence of you and your team ... for Triad." He offered O'Neill a blue, triangle shaped device.

O'Neill looked at it askance. "I feel like I'm being served," he offered.

++++

SG-1, Fraiser and Hammond sat at the table in the debriefing room, waiting for Narim to explain himself. O'Neill fiddled with the weird doohickey. "So what exactly IS this Triad?" he asked.

"It's an ancient ceremony of justice; quite honorable," Narim said.

'Gee; thanks for clearing that up.'

"So it's kind of like a tri-AL," Daniel said.

Narim looked confused. "I am not familiar with ... trial," he said.

"Trial, it's sort of like a tribunal, a place where matters of justice and law are decided."

"Then yes, a triad is similar to your trial."

"So, who's on trial?" O'Neill asked.

"ad," Daniel corrected him.

"Triad ...". 'Tomayto - tomato.'

"The decision Triad must reach is of great concern to an acquaintance of yours. She is an Earth human by the name of Samantha Carter."

"WHAT??" Daniel and O'Neill blurted out at the same time.

"It is she who requested your presence," Narim confirmed.

O'Neill was stunned. They'd only seen Captain Carter two more times after she'd been taken by the snake-heads; just before they left Chulak and then more than a year ago when Carter/Klorel had been in an attack ship headed for Earth. He'd had to shoot Klorel and had been thanked painfully by the young woman as the life left her.

Daniel, typically, was not lost for words. "She's alive? She's okay? She's ...?"

"She is well," Narim interrupted. "But she does need your help for Triad."

O'Neill brought his attention back to the Tollan. "Where's this taking place?" he asked.

"Our destination is the new homeworld, Tollana," Narim replied gravely.

"But we sent you to the Nox planet," Fraiser said. "There wasn't a 'gate on Tollana."

"The Nox and the Tollan were able to devise a way to get us there," Narim said.

"Of course you were," O'Neill said in resignation.

"Way smarter than we are," Daniel contributed.

++++

SG-1, Fraiser and Narim stepped out of the Stargate onto Tollana. There were lawns and a few buildings around them. "Very nice," O'Neill said.

"So you built that ... Stargate?" Fraiser asked Narim.

"Yes," Narim said.

"WAY smarter than we are," Daniel commented.

O'Neill was determined to remain unimpressed. "Ours is bigger," he said. They followed Narim over to one of the buildings and through a walkway into what looked like a courthouse. They went down a narrow corridor and O'Neill paused as a white light scanned him and each of his team.

"What just happened?" Daniel asked.

"Your weapons have been disabled."

"What?" O'Neill examined his P90. Jammed. Nuts.

"You may continue to carry them if you wish," Narim said, although he looked puzzled as to why they'd want to do that.

"You don't think you should have told us about this before we came?" O'Neill asked, a little peeved.

"I didn't find it relevant," Narim said.

Now O'Neill was more than a LITTLE peeved. "We don't travel to other planets without weapons with which to defend ourselves," he pointed out.

"May I ask what you intend to defend yourself against? The Tollan have never threatened you, in any way."

"That is correct, O'Neill. I do not feel the need to carry a weapon in this place," Teal'c said.

O'Neill grimaced at the Jaffa. 'Thanks, buddy,' he groused silently.

"And, judging by what I've seen in the last five minutes, our weapons wouldn't be much of a match for their technology anyway," Kawalsky said.

'Et tu, Kawalsky?'

"No harm will come to you. The Tollan will guarantee it," Narim said.

"Is that a 'money back if you're not completely alive' guarantee?" O'Neill asked.

Narim ignored this comment. "This way," he said instead. He gestured for them to continue to follow. They did so and entered a large court room.

A woman sat at a high podium with a screen in front of her. The screen slid down and she rose. "These must be our visitors from Earth," she said. "Welcome."

"High Chancellor Travell, this is Colonel Jack O'Neill," Narim began.

"Hi," O'Neill said.

Narim continued. "Doctor Daniel Jackson. Doctor Janet Fraiser." His usually grave face softened when he looked at the petite redhead, then he collected himself. "Major Charles Kawalsky."

"Hello," Kawalsky said.

"And Teal'c." Teal'c didn't say anything - the guy wasn't big on talking - but he dipped his head.

"We are honored that you have agreed to participate in Triad," Travell said. "Your seeker will decide which one of you will be archon."

"Seeker? Archon?" O'Neill was confused. He turned to Daniel. "Daniel?"

"Uh, with respect High Chancellor, Narim didn't really explain the Triad very well. Could you please define those terms for us?" Ever the diplomat.

Travell smiled slightly. "In Triad there are two arguing parties, called seekers. Triadic law requires one archon who is sympathetic to each cause, and one neutral archon. The archons argue the dispute until a decision is reached."

"So a seeker is like a defendant and the archon is his attorney," Daniel over-explained.

"I got it," O'Neill said. "So, Carter is our ...".

"Seeker," Daniel put in.

"Seeker."

"Narim will take you to her now," Travell said.

"This way," Narim said.

++++

Narim deactivated the forcefield to a Tollan holding cell and SG-1 followed him inside. A tall slim woman with long blonde hair curling about her shoulders stood with her back to them.

"Carter?" O'Neill said.

The woman turned around, her eyes glowing, a device on her chest showing red. "YOU," the Goa'uld spat. "You will pay for what you did to my father!"

"It's good to see you too," O'Neill said sarcastically.

Carter's head dropped and the device turned blue. "I'm so relieved to see you. All of you," she said in an un-Goa'uld voice.

"What's the deal? What just happened?" O'Neill asked Narim.

"The Tollan designed the device worn about the chest. It suppresses the Goa'uld's ability to silence its host. The Goa'uld and host are free to speak at will. The device cannot be removed as long as Klorel and Samantha are our guests. The indicator on the front prevents one from pretending to be the other. Red indicates it is Klorel who speaks ... blue Samantha."

"Nice device. We'll take a dozen," O'Neill offered.

Narim paused. "As you may recall from our last encounter, it is forbidden for the Tollan to give our technology to any culture less advanced than our own."

"Still got that arrogance bug, I see," O'Neill baited.

"It's me, Colonel," Carter said. "Don't you believe that?"

O'Neill walked over to her. "Yeah. It's good to see you," he said warily.

"I knew you'd come," Carter continued. "Soon, with your help, I'll be free of this SOB snake. Every day I fight him. I listen, I learn."

"It is time for Samantha to choose her archon," Narim said.

"The Colonel's brave and honorable. Daniel's clever. Can't I choose both?" O'Neill blinked - he hadn't realized he'd left such an impression on the young woman.

"You may. They may both argue. However, they will have but one vote."

"Okay," said Daniel. "What's this Triad about? What's to be decided?"

"Two days ago, a small Goa'uld vessel crashed in a remote area," Narim said. "The occupant was badly injured. It was Samantha."

"We were fleeing a battle group dispatched by Heru'ur," Carter continued. "The snake knew the Tollan would stop them."

"Which we did," Narim said. "We warned them, but ... they came anyway. Our defense grid was forced to destroy them."

"So, Heru'ur is dead," Kawalsky said.

"No," Carter said. "But two of his motherships are destroyed."

'Nice.' "Wait a minute. You blew away two Goa'uld motherships?" O'Neill said.

Narim looked offended. "We are not a warring people, but our defensive technology is far more advanced than that of the Goa'uld."

"Yeah, well I know all this weapons chatter gets my blood pumping ... can we get back to the Triad?" Daniel asked impatiently.

"Yes, of course. When our sentries reached the crashed vessel, Samantha asked us to free her of her Goa'uld. But the Goa'uld refuses. Therefore, under Tollan law we have no choice but to hear both arguments before acting."

"And Klorel's archon is ... who?" O'Neill asked.

++++

Several hours later:

O'Neill couldn't help the slight smile that graced his lips when he saw the little Nox woman come back into the court room. The Nox were odd folk - liking everyone, even Goa'ulds - but they'd saved his sorry ass more than once.

"I apologize for my tardiness," Lya said.

"We will resume," Travell said. "Lord Zipacna has asked us to reconvene early because he wishes to make a challenge."

Zipacna stood before Travell. "Tollan law does not provide for a penalty of death. Is that correct?"

O'Neill SO did not like where Zippy was heading with this.

"It is," Travell said.

"Then I wish to point out the futility of this trial. A Goa'uld needs a host to survive. This is a biological fact beyond our control. If you award priority to Samantha, then it is as a death sentence for Klorel."

"Course, if you flip that around you've got Carter on death row," O'Neill said.

"Yes. But as you proved earlier in Triad, the host survives."

"Yeah?" He just knew this was going someplace bad.

"We concede this point," Zippy said. "Therefore, if you award priority to Klorel, both host and symbiote live." He bowed and sat down.

Smug SOB. "Yeah, one lives freely, the other lives as a slave."

"We would put forth that life as a slave is not life at all," Daniel said a bit more diplomatically.

"And if you want to save both lives, give us Carter ... and take Klorel. The Tok'ra can put him in another host for all I care," O'Neill said.

"Who, Colonel?" Lya said. "Perhaps you would volunteer?"

"Uh ... no." Been there, done that, got the tee shirt. More than a year later, O'Neill still remembered the feeling of entrapment from Jolinar ... and she'd been one of the good guys!

"Perhaps you could find someone who would choose to be a host," Daniel said.

The doors opened at that point and Narim entered, followed by Kawalsky and Teal'c. Travell looked pissed. "Narim, what is the meaning of this? You know Triad is held as a closed session."

"Your Eminence, please adjust your viewer to the orbital observatory," Narim said, skating over the reproof.

A screen appeared before Travell. O'Neill leaned forward and got a close look. He saw the planet and a huge honking ship. "A Goa'uld mothership," Travell said ominously.

"Yes," said Narim. "It approaches Tollana."

Zipacna, O'Neill and Daniel moved to stand before the podium. "Explain," Travell said to Zippy.

"My vessel comes in anticipation of our victory in Triad. It is merely coming to take us aboard."

"Why don't you just take a Stargate like the rest of us?" O'Neill asked.

"Not that it is of your concern, but there is no Chappa'ai where we are going," Zippy shot back.

"Well then, 'gate to where there IS one and get picked up."

"Your Eminence, if our intentions were hostile, we would have attacked already."

"Even so, your ship's arrival is premature and in violation of Tollan space. I must warn you, that if your ship moves any closer before the conclusion of Triad, our automated defense system will destroy it."

"The Goa'uld rest our case and we are prepared to vote. Therefore Triad is over."

"Triad is over when all parties agree, Lord Zipacna," Travell said. "Do the human archons have any further arguments?"

"Nope," O'Neill said. "I think the Goa'uld made our case for us quite nicely." He pointed to the mothership on the screen.

"No further arguments, your Eminence," Daniel said. "We are prepared to vote."

"Nox archon?" Travell asked.

"Yes," Lya said simply.

"Then bring in the seekers."

The 'archons' returned to their seats as Carter/Klorel were escorted into the room.

"Klorel and Samantha. You can both hear the Triad's ruling?" Travell asked.

"Yes, your Eminence," Carter said. The doohickey she wore turned red and her eyes glowed. "I can," the Goa'uld added.

"Human archons, may we hear your vote?" Travell continued.

"We find in favor of Samantha," Daniel said.

"Goa'uld archon?"

"In favor of Klorel."

Well, THAT was a no-brainer, O'Neill mused. He whispered to Daniel; "Big surprise, there."

"Nox archon?"

The little Nox looked thoughtful. "After careful consideration, I believe that both Klorel and Samantha have the right to live. But living as a host with no will of one's own is not life, therefore only one may remain in the body. To that end, I award priority to the original owner of the body. Samantha."

Klorel's eyes flared in fury.

"YES," O'Neill exulted. He turned to Zippy. "Now, get that mothership outta here."

"We will summon the Tok'ra to come to Tollana to assist in the removal of the Goa'uld Klorel," Travell said. "He will be removed from the host and if he survives, will be sent to the Goa'uld world of his choice." She picked up another weird doohickey and the device on Carter's chest went blue. "I have locked the detachment device," she continued. "Samantha; you have priority control until the Goa'uld is removed. Prepare yourself. The Tok'ra will arrive as soon as possible. And congratulations."

Carter looked overwhelmed, and near tears. "Thank you," she said.

Travell turned to Zippy. "Lord Zipacna, you are dismissed ... with our thanks."

++++

Samantha Carter curled into the chair the Tollan Narim had offered, waiting for the Tok'ra. Thanks to Klorel, she knew exactly what the Tok'ra were - that they were a faction of the Goa'uld that had rebelled against the System Lords more than two thousand years earlier.

She also knew that they'd developed the technology to free a host from the symbiote without killing the host, although they hadn't done it too often. But she was more than willing to play guinea pig if it meant she'd be free of this parasite.

Free! She would be free. She could barely comprehend the concept after three years trapped inside her own body; watching helplessly as her mouth spat words of hatred and war, as her hands maimed, tortured and killed ...

The door opened and her body hummed in response to the sensing of naqadah. "Come in, Teal'c," she said. She'd met the shol'va more than a year ago - when they'd attempted to halt Apophis's invasion of Earth and she vaguely remembered him being there on Chulak.

The door opened further, and Colonel O'Neill stood there. "Not T," he said. "Is this a bad time?" He looked uneasy.

"It's fine, Colonel," she replied. She didn't want to be alone with her thoughts, anyway.

"Cool." The tall Colonel came over to her, hands plunged deep into his pockets.

"Have a seat, sir," she said politely, watching him as he sat down with a sigh. He'd changed a lot since she'd last seen him. The hair had gone a steel gray and stuck up madly, and he'd lost some weight - but he looked strong and fit. And ... quite handsome too, she acknowledged. "Thank you, sir, for coming," she said.

He shrugged slightly. "We don't leave people behind, Carter," he said.

She gulped, feeling the beginning of tears. "It's me," she said. "It's me," she repeated.

O'Neill smiled at her. "Much better," he said.

She looked at him, her eyes swimming with tears. "I'm ... free," she whispered.

"Yep," O'Neill said. He patted her shoulder gently, then gasped as her slender arms enclosed him in a fierce hug, her head dropping to his shoulder as she cried some more. "Hey; it's okay," he soothed awkwardly, stroking her hair.

She shook fiercely. "No, it isn't," she said. "For years, I've dreamed of being free. And now that I am ... what do I do? There's nothing on Earth for me; I tried to destroy my home!"

"That wasn't you, Captain," O'Neill said. "You were trapped in there, forced to watch." She looked at him and he took her shoulders. "I KNOW, Captain," he insisted. "I know."

She looked at him. He didn't just understand - he KNEW. "You were a host, sir?" she said.

He grimaced. "Twice," he admitted. "Picked up a hitch-hiker on Nasyia about a year ago - thank God for Cassie."

"Cassie?"

He shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "A little girl we found abandoned on P8X 987. All her people had died off thanks to some snake-head, so the Doc adopted her. Anyway, she'd been engineered by the snake to destroy our 'gate, and she can sense naqadah."

"I see," Carter said, reflecting that at least he was helping her forget her own troubles - if only for a brief time. "And what happened? Obviously you still don't have the symbiote."

"Nope," O'Neill said. "The snake was a Tok'ra called Jolinar and she jumped into me to hide from the Ashrak. But she ended up dying to save my life after the Ashrak found her. Then ..." - he coughed - "a few months later, we met some Tok'ra. We've got a kind of alliance with them, but they don't trust us and we don't really trust them."

"And the second time ...?" Carter pressed.

The grimace was pronounced now. "Hathor," he stated in a tone of sheer loathing - one that resonated within Klorel. The two had been enemies for a long time. "Couple months ago, she tried to snake me, but one of her people was a Tok'ra and put me on ice." He grinned slightly. "I killed her snaky butt, by the way."

The door opened once more and Carter felt the distinct hum of the naqadah in her system. "The Tok'ra?" she asked O'Neill.

"Hope so," the Colonel replied. "We sent Zippy and his kids packing."

Two Tok'ra - a male and a female walked in and Carter gasped. "Oh, my God," she said. "DAD?" Her father had joined the Tok'ra?

"Sammie!" her father said, abandoning the woman and hurrying over to the couch. He drew Carter up and hugged her strongly. "God; I thought we'd lost you forever, baby!" he said.

Carter felt the stupid tears spring to her eyes once more. She and her dad had never had a great relationship. She'd blamed him for her mother's death and they'd only gotten more distant as the years went by. "Daddy," she breathed, her arms going round him. "What are you doing here?"

Her father patted her back. "It's a long story, kiddo," he said. "I'll explain later." He held up a jar. "Right now, Garshaw and Selmak need to get that creature out of you."

He dipped his head, then his eyes flashed. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Samantha," the Tok'ra inside her dad said. "Jacob has mourned your loss deeply. I am Selmak of the Tok'ra and this is my colleague, Grand Counsel Garshaw."

The woman dipped her head. "Samantha," she said, then turned to O'Neill, who'd gotten up politely. "Colonel," she added a little more warmly, planting a kiss on each cheek. "It is good to see you again."

He gave a short cough that sounded like a cat with a hairball and stuffed his fists into his pockets. "Yeah; you too, Garshaw," he said. "Hey, Jake," he added to her dad.

Her dad's head dipped, then he smiled wryly at the Colonel. "Jack," he said. "How's it going?"

"Great," O'Neill said. "Dropped a coupla pounds, got a new Simpsons boxset to watch, and we've managed to free someone from the snake-heads." He grinned, but his soft brown eyes were warm with friendship for the older man. "Pretty good day, all in all."

"Yeah," Jacob Carter agreed.

++++

One week later:

"Well, welcome to Casa O'Neill," the Colonel said, opening the door to his house. "It's not a palace, but ... it's pretty nice."

Carter walked into the small house. Lots of hardwood flooring, an open fireplace and simple sturdy furniture. After the ostentation of the Goa'uld palaces and ships, this was a welcome change. "It's lovely, sir," she said, her hand tightening on the strap of her duffel.

She followed the Colonel's tall form through the kitchen, glancing at the mess of take-out containers on the table. "Yeah; I wasn't exactly expecting company," O'Neill grumbled, gathering up the debris and shoving it into the trash can. "C'mon; let me show you your bedroom."

He ushered her into a small room, decorated in the same simple good taste as the rest of his house. More hardwood, soft curtains fluttering in the evening breeze, queen-size bed with a dark blue comforter. It was ... restful, and Carter sighed. "Thank you, sir," she said.

"Welcome." He grinned, then pointed to a door. "Shower and tub in there," he added. "You wanna get washed up before dinner?"

She shook her head, surprised when a large yawn engulfed her. "I'm not hungry, sir," she said sleepily.

"You want to bunk down?" he asked, striding over to the bed and pulling down the comforter with a flick of his wrists.

"That'd be nice," Carter said. She yawned again, then put her duffel on the chair.

O'Neill hesitated, then dropped a quick kiss to the top of her head. "Night, kiddo," he said, then headed out of the bedroom.

Carter changed quickly for bed, then got in under the covers, drawing them up under her chin. Her eyes popped open. Peachy. Now that she was in bed, she was wide awake. She sat up and curled her arms around her knees, hugging them closely to her chest.

She was a little overwhelmed at how rapidly her life had changed. After Triad more than a week ago, her dad and Garshaw had removed Klorel. They'd spent a few days together on Tollana, before the two Tok'ra were recalled to their homeworld.

She'd also gotten to know SG-1 as fellow humans, not as enemies of her father ... not HER father; Klorel's, she reminded herself. Daniel wasn't quite as wide-eyed and naive as she remembered, but realized this was likely due to the fact that Sha're/Amaunet had died several months ago. But he was a nice, gentle man with a strong intelligence and a good heart.

Kawalsky could be an irreverent jackass, but he made her laugh with his pithy commentary on anything and everything. Teal'c - the Jaffa - was definitely the strong silent type, but he was visibly pleased that she was free from Klorel. Doctor Fraiser ... now, she liked her. Easily six inches shorter than Carter, she had Narim wrapped around her tiny fingers ... and Kawalsky too, if Carter wasn't mistaken. Colonel O'Neill called her a Napoleonic power-monger, but he did it affectionately. They were a close team.

And as for the Colonel ...

Enigmatic, sarcastic, charismatic - a whole host of other words that ended with '-ic'. He was an obdurate foe and a gentle friend. A trained killer and a child magnet. And very intelligent - despite the 'dumb flyboy' image he liked to project. Whilst he had no patience for what he called 'techno-babble', he had a genius for strategy and a gift for cutting right through the crap.

++++

Carter woke up, her heart pounding, as the memory faded away. Her dad and Garshaw had warned her that she'd likely experience flashbacks for a long time, but that they'd fade with time. She sat up and pushed her hand through her hair, looking around the Colonel's bedroom. That - more than anything else - helped remind her that she was finally free.

But a good night's sleep wasn't going to happen for a long time yet. She got out of bed dressed in Air Force issue sweats and a cropped gray tank top and decided that a snack was in order. She padded quietly to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, almost drooling when she saw the huge slab of cake. Bidding goodbye to her waistline, she grabbed the plate and sat down at the table, fork at the ready.

"A-ah! Lay one finger on that cake, Carter, and you're a dead woman!"

She jerked around to find the Colonel standing at the doorway, his arms folded, his chest bare and his gray hair sticking up stupidly. "Sir?" she said, putting on her best big-blue-eyes innocent look - the one her dad had never bought.

The Colonel didn't buy it either. He snagged a second fork and sat down next to her, digging into the cake. "My house," he mumbled around a large mouthful, "my cake. I eat first."

"Yes, sir - of course," Carter said, grinning slightly at the older man.

He returned the grin. "Are you mocking me?"

"Who; me, sir? Never," Carter said. He had a nice smile, and it was a shame he didn't show it more often. Her gaze wandered around the kitchen until it came to rest on a photograph. It was of a slightly younger O'Neill dressed in civvies with his arm around a young boy in a baseball uniform. Both sported wide joyful - matching - grins. She'd known he was divorced, but she hadn't realized he had a kid. "What's your son's name, sir?" she asked.

He took in a deep breath. "Charlie," he said in low tones.

"Wow, sir; we've spent the last week practically in each other's pockets. I never even knew you HAD a son," she teased lightly. Colonel O'Neill was not the most open of men - years in Special Forces had likely done that to him.

"He's ... not alive anymore," the Colonel said. "He died just before the first Abydos mission."

"Oh, God ... that's horrible," Carter breathed. She put her hand on the older man's tense forearm and squeezed it. No-one should outlive their children.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I've ... learned to live with it." He patted her hand. "And thanks."

She blinked. "For what?"

"For not saying 'I'm sorry'," he replied. "People always say that when they find out about Charlie - like it's their fault or something. It bugs me."

"They probably don't know what to say," Carter said. "My mother died when I was thirteen," she confided. "I got the same useless platitudes."

He looked at her thoughtfully, and she was surprised to feel herself blush at the intensity of his brown eyes. No man should have eyelashes that long - it just wasn't fair.

Breaking the contact, she dug her fork into the cake and brought the luscious morsel to her lips. Her eyes closed. Chocolate ... the most heavenly substance ever. "God; I'm in heaven," she breathed. "Did you make this, sir?" she added, opening her eyes.

O'Neill cleared his throat. "It's one of my sadly few gifts," he said with a shrug.

Carter was impressed - she could barely boil an egg and her kitchen table was piled high with take-out menus. Damn it; HAD been piled high. She no longer had her table, her kitchen or her house. She was still a non-person as far as the Air Force was concerned, and her brother would have accepted her death by now and had gone on with his life.

All of a sudden, she wasn't hungry, but did feel the need to cry. She gulped, determined that she wasn't going to soak the Colonel's shoulder again.

"Carter? You okay?" the Colonel asked softly.

"I'm fine, sir," she said. "Just not as hungry as I thought I was." She patted her trim stomach in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Got to keep slim, you know."

"Oh. Well, that's a good thing," he said. "It wouldn't be good if you got fat."

"Sir?"

He grinned. "Yeah," he offered. "If you got fat, you'd NEVER wear that sweet little tank top number again," he added, gesturing to her gray top.

She blushed again, then laughed. "I think I'll go back to bed," she said. "Good night, sir."

"Night, Carter," he replied.

++++

O'Neill watched as the younger woman padded out of the kitchen, his gaze resting on the pale skin displayed by that little tank top. It WAS a pretty sweet number, but he'd made the comment mainly to make her laugh.

Even with his experiences with Jolinar and Hathor's little pet, he couldn't begin to understand what she was going through. He still didn't understand why he'd offered her his spare room, but he knew he didn't like the idea of her living on base. It was going to be hard enough for her to adjust without feeling like she was always under surveillance.

He absorbed another mouthful of the cake, then grimaced. Now HE wasn't hungry. He got up and shoved the cake back into the refrigerator, then slammed the door shut. Then cringed as he remembered his guest. She was already having trouble sleeping without him banging around. "Sorry, Carter!" he called.

"It's okay, sir," he heard her mumble sleepily from the guest bedroom. "Sleep's for losers, anyway."

He snickered at that. Sarcasm - he was so proud. "Night, Carter," he said once more.

"Night, SIR."

PART THREE

The mighty warrior Klorel surveyed the planet from his position at the peltak. It was prime for exploitation. Heavy deposits of naqadah and plenty of slave labor - his father would indeed be pleased. With a curt nod to his First Prime, he ordered the immediate deployment of his Jaffa troops to subjugate the planet's inhabitants.

With an ease born of much practice, he ignored the host's indignant railings at his actions. He'd never been able to fully subjugate her - much to his unwilling respect - but he'd learned to ignore her. And, truth be told, she amused him. Precious little in his existence amused him, and he therefore took his pleasure where he could.

Whilst the host raged impotently, Klorel strode off the peltak and to his bed chamber, summoning his lotar. Benar was a young man - had only lived twenty of his homeworld's rotations - but had served Klorel well for two years and his father for three years before that. He was loyal and trust-worthy; intelligent, but not overly so.

Benar appeared within seconds, dipping his head. "My Lord," he said.

"I have learned that the Tauri have asked to be included in the Protected Planets Treaty," Klorel said. "Cronus, Nirrti and Yu have gone there to negotiate with the Asgard."

"My Lord?" Benar sounded puzzled, as indeed he should, Klorel reflected. It was not common for a lotar to be taken into confidence about the inner workings of the System Lords.

"My father believes it to be a foolish notion - I agree with him," Klorel continued. He watched the young man carefully. "You are descended from the Tauri - what do YOU think?"

//As if he's going to disagree with you!//, the host commented scornfully. //He values his life.//

Benar considered carefully. "They have angered many of the System Lords in the last two years, My Lord," he said cautiously. "Perhaps they now finally realize that the Gods should be taken seriously."

//Gods, my ass!//

"Hmm, perhaps," Klorel said, waving a hand languidly. That had not occurred to him, and he was glad that he had asked Benar's opinion.

"But the Tauri are ... wily," Benar continued. "And they do not share our belief in the supremacy of the System Lords." He frowned slightly, then took a deep breath. "I would not trust them, My Lord and ... I do not believe you do, either. I am surprised that the System Lords agreed to this negotiation."

"You question the actions of the System Lords?" Klorel was angry at this. "I could kill you where you stand for such blasphemy!"

"Yes, My Lord," Benar said, dropping his head, then raising it. "But you asked for my opinion."

"And you gave it," Klorel said. "It is always good to know where one stands," he added softly. He aimed the ribbon device at the young human's head. "Unfortunately, you will not stand much longer." He concentrated and the power shot through the device into the lotar's head.

After several seconds, Benar fell to the ground, quite obviously dead. Klorel frowned and summoned two slaves. "Take that away," he said, kicking at the dead lotar.

++++

Carter sat up in bed, the young lotar's surprised face burned into her memory. "God ...". She shuddered and got out of the bed, knowing that sleep wouldn't come again that night.

It had now been over a month since the Triad - three weeks since her return to Earth - but things weren't getting any better. Her sleep was interrupted constantly by horrible memories and her appetite was non-existent. When the Colonel was around, she forced some food down but he couldn't be there 24-7.

And he and SG-1 were currently off world visiting a planet called Edora. They'd been gone nearly two weeks - a pretty long time for a standard reconnaissance mission. She suspected something else was going on, but she didn't have the clearance to find out.

She headed into the bathroom and opened up the medicine cabinet, looking thoughtfully at the bottle of sleeping pills Doctor Fraiser had prescribed. She really didn't want to start popping pills, but if she didn't get a decent night's sleep soon, she was going to lose it.

Fraiser had warned her that depression would be likely. Carter hadn't believed her. "That won't happen, Doctor; trust me on that," she'd responded skeptically.

Fraiser had been very patient. She explained that it was a matter of neuro-transmitters. The Goa'uld had produced a chemical that suppressed the production of serotonin in her body, while acting as a substitute. Now the Goa'uld was gone, and her serotonin levels would take time to get back to normal.

"She's right, Carter," the Colonel had said. He frowned. "After Jolinar died, I had to go on SSRI's for a coupla weeks, and she'd only been in me a few days. You've had that snake for nearly three years."

"I'll be fine," Carter had insisted stubbornly. She was overjoyed to get rid of the parasite that had stolen her life. She sure as hell wasn't going to mourn it!

With a quick decisive motion, she opened the bottle and dry-swallowed a tablet. It was so tiny, and she was SO exhausted ... She took another one, then quickly shoved the bottle back into the cabinet.

She headed back into the bedroom and stretched her hand out to the bookcase. It was filled with the Colonel's eclectic collection of books and journals. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find that he was something of a star lover. Whilst he didn't pretend to understand her field, he was quite good at astronomy and - much to her shame - knew far more about the constellations than she did. She saw the science; he saw the beauty.

She plucked out an old astronomy journal and began leafing through the pages with an occasional yawn. Huh; maybe these tablets were better than she thought!

++++

She woke up much later, her head heavy but nightmare free. That was a fair trade to her mind. She looked at the clock and realized she'd actually slept for sixteen hours. "Gotta love those little pills," she mumbled to herself.

She got out of bed and padded into the shower, deciding she should celebrate her first good night's sleep by actually leaving the house. She didn't know Colorado Springs too well - had only lived there for a week before the first Stargate mission - so it was probably time she had a look around.

The shower cleared the residual fuzziness from her head and she wrapped a large towel around her body as she scrubbed at her hair with a towel. The telephone rang and she frowned, debating whether or not to let the answer machine pick it up. Yep; she would. She'd had four calls from tele-marketers just yesterday.

"Hi; you've reached Jack O'Neill's phone," the Colonel's recording said. "You know what to do." There was a pause. "And if you don't, then you're too dumb for me to call you back." BEEP.

Carter snickered at that. Considering his own dumb act, the Colonel had no tolerance for stupidity. There was a silence on the other end that seemed ... nonplused, then: "Colonel O'Neill; this is Debbie from MasterCard. We are pleased to offer you a $25,000 line of credit. If you wish to accept this offer, please contact us on 1-800-745-7239. Thank you."

++++

"Fair day, Jack," Laira greeted him. "Walk with me."

O'Neill got out of the canoe he'd built. "You wouldn't like my company right now, Laira," he said. He grimaced. "Hell, even I don't like my company."

She held out her hand to his and drew him up onto the bank. "Walk with me, Jack," she said softly. "You miss them," she added, tucking her hand through his arm.

"Yeah," he said. "Guess I do."

He'd been stuck on this planet for nearly a month now and was about ready to pound on someone in his frustration. It was surprising how homesick he was. He missed Teal'c's sly humor that he tried to keep hidden, he missed Daniel's mile-a-second conversation. He missed Kawalsky's wry quips and he even missed Napoleon and her needles.

"Do you have anyone ... special waiting for you?" Laira asked.

"Not anymore," O'Neill replied. "I was married, but we divorced a few years ago."

"Divorced ...?" Laira repeated.

"Ah ... the legal dissolution of a marriage," O'Neill said.

"Divorced ...". Laira rolled the word around. "It sounds almost pleasant considering it describes an unpleasant process." She rested her curly head on his upper arm as they walked. "And there has been no-one since?"

"No ...," he replied cautiously. He didn't count the 'thing' he'd had with Kynthia on Argos. Hell, he'd been drugged with that stupid cake! In some ways that could have been seen as rape, but he SO wasn't going to go there.

"After my husband died, I mourned him for one hundred days," Laira continued. "I wouldn't leave the house; wouldn't talk to anyone."

"And after the one hundred days?"

She gave him a dazzling smile. "I left the house. I talked to people." She put her hand to his cheek, then drew his mouth to hers for a brief sweet kiss. "You need to mourn," she told him. "It's the only way you can move on."

O'Neill was tired of thinking. He slid his hands gently into Laira's hair, then tilted her lips up to his. His tongue slipped softly into her mouth and was met by her own tongue - very warm, very soft, very sweet.

++++

Carter flicked idly through the TV guide. Damn; 500 channels and nothing worth watching on any of them!

The Colonel had now been gone for over a month, but she'd gotten used to being alone. Since she'd started taking those marvelous little tablets, she'd had a good night's sleep every night. She palmed several of the tablets into her mouth, then washed them down with a sip of whisky, shuddering. She didn't even LIKE whisky, but had found that it helped the tablets work better.

She shook the pill bottle, surprised when there was no rattle. She looked at the label, and was a little ashamed to find that she'd gone through the entire three-month prescription in only a third of the time. But, she reminded herself, she didn't just have nightmares - her visions while dreaming were entirely real. She just needed something to help her cope till her serotonin levels were back to normal, then she could stop taking these stupid things.

But ... would Doctor Fraiser give her more pills? Not unless she could come up with a good cover story, she wouldn't. Carter hadn't known the petite Doctor very long, but knew that she had a finely tuned bullshit detector honed from dealing with Colonel O'Neill for over three years.

Maybe, just maybe, she should go and get something over the counter to tide her over for a week or so. Then she would go and see Fraiser and get the real stuff. Maybe ... she wouldn't even need it by then.

Decision made, she stuffed her feet into sneakers and grabbed one of the Colonel's fleece jackets. It smelled like his aftershave - spicy, but not overpowering - and she breathed in deeply. 'Nice.'

++++

O'Neill woke up and stretched his long legs, wondering what was tickling his neck. He looked down and saw Laira's curly head tucked into the crook of his neck, her small slim body wrapped around him. Ah. He smirked slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the 'guy' moment. It had been a long time since he'd shared a bed with a warm loving woman.

She looked up and smiled sleepily. "Fair day, Jack," she said.

"Fair day," he replied, dropping a gentle kiss onto her forehead.

"Mmmm." She scooched up along the bed, then took his lips in a passionate kiss. "You have no regrets, I trust?" she asked after she broke the kiss.

"About last night - not a one," O'Neill said.

"Good." Laira wiggled so that she now lay on top of O'Neill. "I know that you like making love in the night. How about in the morning?"

Things began waking up all over him and he groaned. Laira chuckled. "I see parts of you like the idea very much," she said, ducking her head down to kiss his neck.

Those were the last words they said for a very long time.

++++

Carter woke up, her head pounding, and groaned. God; she felt like shit. She looked around. And just where the hell was she?

"Morning, Sam," a man said.

Carter yelped and stared at the naked man lying next to her. Fair hair, roundish features and a huge shit-eating grin. "Uh ... hi," she said. Who the hell WAS this guy? And had they done what she thought they'd done?

He gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "Why don't you take a shower?" he said gently. "You can't be feeling very good right now."

Now that she thought about it, she realized that she did feel a bit sore. She closed her eyes and nodded her head. "Okay," she said, then got up and headed into the mysterious man's bathroom. So ... thirty two - nearly thirty three - years old, a former Captain in the Air Force and her first time had been a drunken one nighter with some guy she didn't know. Oh, she was just SO proud of herself right now!

"Sam?" The man knocked on the door. "There's a spare robe in the closet. I'll go fix us some coffee."

"Thanks," she said, wishing she could remember his name. She turned on the cold faucet and stuck her aching head under it. The shock of the cold water helped clear away some of the hangover and she decided she could risk a shower. Then she'd find her clothes and get the hell out of there before her humiliation was complete.

She stepped into the shower and scrubbed down in typical Air Force fashion - where quick showers were the norm. She carefully avoided looking at her reflection - not wanting to see herself right now. A one night stand. She'd turned into the kind of person she despised.

She choked down the sob that rose up her throat. 'Suck it up, soldier!', she chided herself. 'You're not the first person to do something stupid, and you won't be the last!'

Toweled dry and feeling something closer to human, she dressed quickly in the jeans and oversized fleece she'd worn last night. She crept down the stairs hoping that Pete - Pete; THAT was his name! - wouldn't see her sneaking out.

Seems God had decided to give her a break for now. The stocky young man had his back to her in the kitchen, whistling as he made coffee. She took her chance and slid quietly out of the house, using every skill she'd learned during her time with the Air Force.

Her hands shook as she got out of the street, and she now recalled that she'd intended heading to the drugstore. Instead, she'd bumped into an old friend from the Academy, who'd convinced her to go bar hopping. That was how she'd met Pete.

So ... drugstore. She dug her hand into her jeans pocket, hoping that she still had her ATM card. YES! God bless American Express.

"Captain; hi," Doctor Fraiser said.

Shit. SO not getting any more little pills today. "Hi, Doctor," she replied.

"General Hammond asked me to come find you," the petite woman said. "We ... have a problem."

Carter closed her eyes. Had Fraiser found out about her running through her prescription already?

"Will you come back to the base with me, Captain?" Fraiser asked.

Maybe she could BS her way out of this. "Of course," she said in the most matter of fact tone she could manage.

++++

"Good morning, Captain," General Hammond said.

"Uh ... good morning, sir," Carter replied, saluting smartly. Even though she was currently listed as off active duty, certain protocols still held.

"I wish I could chat with you a bit more," Hammond said, "but we have a problem. Have a seat, Captain."

Straight to business? She could do that. She slid into the seat he indicated. "Yes, sir."

"Five weeks ago, SG-1 'gated to P5C 768 to establish a trading treaty with the natives for their naqadah," Hammond began. "Several days later, meteors began to impact the world. One impacted the Stargate, trapping many evacuated Edorans here ... and Colonel O'Neill on their side of the 'gate." He looked at her thoughtfully. "Our best scientists have theorized that the molten naqadah hardened just above where the event horizon would form."

"Like an iris," Carter said, making the connection quickly.

"Correct," Hammond said. "Wormhole physics; a field you helped pioneer, Captain, states that under these conditions, ordinary matter won't even reintegrate on the other side. There's no way to overcome that." He paused. "As far as we know." He produced several large boxes. "You've been given full clearance to go through all SG team missions from the last three years ... IF you are willing to be returned to active duty status."

Carter paused. Yes; she wanted to help Colonel O'Neill get home, but she didn't know if she could come back to active duty. "I ... don't know, sir," she said.

Hammond's steely gaze softened. "I know you've been through something no-one can imagine, Sam," he said gently. "But right now, we have a missing man. And you ARE this country's leading expert in astrophysics. We need your help."

Carter immediately felt ashamed of herself. "Of ... course I'll help, sir," she said. "I'm only back here because the Colonel was willing to come to Tollana for me."

"Good," Hammond said. He clasped her hand in his. "In that case, consider yourself recalled to active duty, Captain."

++++

Ten days later:

"Holy Hannah!"

One of the scientists - a rather nervous dark-haired man called Felger - started and spilled coffee. "C-Captain?" he inquired.

Carter slammed her fist to the table in triumph. "I think I've got it!" she crowed. "It's never been done by any human, but ... I have a solution!"

Doctor Jackson walked in at that point. "Hey, Sam," he said with a small smile. "I could hear you whooping from out there. You've come up with something?"

Carter nodded vigorously. "I think so, Daniel," she said. "And I'm not the one who thought of it. Sokar did."

"Sokar?" Daniel squinted at her.

"Yes," Carter said. "I've been reading all the old mission reports - especially the one when he tried to breach the iris by bombarding it with a particle beam. Sub-atomic particles barely small enough to reintegrate produced energy as they decayed."

"Which caused the iris to heat up," Daniel supplied.

Carter nodded her head. The man wasn't an astrophysicist, but he seemed to understand enough of her field to see where she was going with this. "Exactly. Now, if we could do the same thing we could melt the hardened naqadah barrier just above the event horizon and create a pocket of superheated gas."

"And then open the 'gate again," Daniel continued.

"The unstable vortex it normally generates would then be allowed to expand into that pocket and create an even larger cavern. One person might be able to go through, and dig it out."

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "I think you can safely assume we'll have any number of volunteers, Sam. But ... there's a problem, isn't there?"

Carter blinked. How did this man know her so well so soon? "Yes. We don't have a particle beam generator. We'd have to build one."

"Well, let's go see Hammond. You need to go break the known laws of astrophysics."

++++

Six weeks later:

Carter hissed out a breath as the wiring futzed brightly before the machinery gave out with a painful groan. "Damn," she muttered, dropping her weary head into her folded arms.

She looked up as the door opened and saw Doctor Fraiser enter with a cup of coffee. "Hey, Janet," she said.

"You working through the night again?" Janet asked, passing her the coffee.

"Yeah. Lot of work to do. Thank you." She took a sip of the coffee.

"Look, Sam, there's no doubt you're going to solve this, but you have to accept the fact it's going to take time."

"Yeah, well if I think that way, it could take months."

"Daniel says the Tollan could have a ship in the vicinity of Edora some time next year."

"He shouldn't have to wait that long," Carter argued.

"You miss him," Fraiser mused.

"Yeah," Carter said softly. It was surprising really - after all, she'd only technically known him for a week. But he'd been there for her 24-7 as she'd suffered through the horrible memories.

"Is this a problem?" Fraiser probed.

Carter knew where her friend was going with this. After all, she wasn't in any fit state emotionally to be falling for someone. "No. No, of course not," she said.

"Okay," Fraiser replied and left as quietly as she'd entered.

++++

Two months later:

O'Neill lay contentedly with Laira, their limbs entwined and hearts pounding after some very satisfying love-making. "Wow," he breathed out.

Laira chuckled into his neck. "That is a compliment, I trust?" she said.

"Oh, yeah ...," O'Neill said. The door opened and Garan came in. "Shit!" O'Neill yelped, dragging the covers hastily over him and Laira. "Did no-one ever teach you to knock, kid?" he barked.

Garan - give the kid his due - went scarlet and couldn't look at them. "Uh ... sorry," he muttered. He waved O'Neill's BDUs at him. "Teal'c and Daniel have come back through the 'gate."

O'Neill sucked in a deep breath. Home. He was going home? Then he looked at the beautiful woman now sitting next to him, the covers wrapped modestly around her slim shoulders. "Laira ...," he began awkwardly. God, he was crap with words.

She smiled. "It's all right, Jack," she said. "I had the feeling this day would come." Garan left the room and she twined her fingers with his. "I'll miss you," she said.

"Come with me," O'Neill said.

Laira shook her head. "I belong here," she said.

"I'll come back. Soon," O'Neill promised, getting out of the bed and dressing in his long-abandoned BDUs. "We still have that treaty to talk about."

"Of course. Our two worlds are going to be friends." She got out of the bed and wrapped her arms around him in a sad embrace. "Closer friends," she added. "Fair day, Jack. And ... be well."

"Fair day, Laira."

O'Neill left the little house before he could change his mind and headed in long strides to the Stargate and his friends. He saw Teal'c's massive form first. "Hey, T!" he said.

"O'Neill," the big Jaffa said with a small smile. "It is good to see you again."

"You too, buddy," O'Neill said, unable to help the large stupid grin that split his face. "Daniel," he greeted his favorite archeologist next. "You are stubborn SOBs, ya know that?"

"Jack," Daniel said with a pleased grin. He tugged at someone standing just behind him. "But it's Sam you have to thank. She's the one who rewrote the laws of physics."

"Carter." Dressed in green BDUs, her hair cropped like when he first met her, she looked pale and tired, her blue eyes huge in a thin face. But ... she still looked good. "Thank you ... it's inadequate, but it's all I can say."

She flashed him a megawatt smile. "Least I can do, sir," she said. She looked around. "Are you ready to come home?"

"Yeah ... I suppose so." He sighed slightly, then clapped a hand to her shoulder. "Dial 'er up, Space Monkey!"

"That's just ONE thing I haven't missed about you, Jack," the archeologist complained, turning to the DHD and beginning to push the symbols.

++++

That evening:

"You're free to go, Colonel," Doctor Fraiser said.

"FINALLY!" the Colonel exclaimed dramatically, getting off the Infirmary bed with an unflattering alacrity.

"Just remember to keep taking those vitamins," the Doctor added, pushing a bottle of pills into his hand. "Your system's pretty depleted after so many months of hard rationing."

Even Carter - who was no medical doctor - could see that. While never a big man, the Colonel had definitely dropped a few. He was pure lean muscle - likely garnered from the agrarian lifestyle of the Edorans. Some of his hair had turned a rather nice silver and he was deeply tanned as well, much to her envy. Her pale skin just burned.

"Uh ... Colonel; I took the liberty of stocking up your cupboards," she said now, handing him his house and car keys. "There's also a full tank of gas."

He nodded. "Thanks, Carter," he said. "Can I offer you a lift?"

"Oh, that's okay, sir," she demurred. "I've got some things I want to work on - I'll sack out in my quarters." The idea of going back to her apartment didn't appeal - after spending so much time at the base the last few months, her apartment would be much too quiet.

"Okay." He spun the key chain on his index finger. "So ... any idea what your posting will be?"

She smiled. "Don't know yet," she replied. "SG-13 need a scientist. Then again, I think I may stay on base a while longer." The truth was, she was a little scared to go through the 'gate again. It had taken all her courage just to step through to a peaceful known planet like Edora - never mind going exploring.

He regarded her with those piercing brown eyes. "Well, it's your choice, Carter," he said. "Personally; I think you'll be wasting your talents sitting in the lab." He gave her a cheeky grin. "That huge honkin' brain of yours needs a challenge!"

She smiled slightly. "I think rewriting the laws of physics just the once will do it for me, sir," she said.

"Hah," he mumbled. "You're an over-achiever, Carter - always looking for something new. You'll see. I give it six months of lab time before you're askin' Hammond for a transfer."

Daniel, Kawalsky, and Teal'c entered the Infirmary at that point. "Jack; you want to come to O'Malley's?" Kawalsky said. "Figure we need to celebrate your return to good old Planet Earth."

"Okay," O'Neill said. "Carter? You in?"

"I've things I need to do," Carter said.

"Ah, c'mon," O'Neill pressed. "I may not be your CO anymore, but I'm still a superior officer. And I'm ORDERING you to get a life."

She chuckled, unable to resist the pleading in his eyes. At that moment, he reminded her more of a spaniel puppy begging for a tidbit than a hardened forty-something Colonel. "All right, sir," she said.

"You want to invite Fraiser?" Kawalsky said. Carter smothered a smile - she just KNEW the guy had a thing for the petite redhead.

"Sure," O'Neill said. "The more the merrier. Hey, Doc!" he called.

"You're still here, Colonel?" Janet said, coming into the Infirmary from her office. "You usually can't get out of here fast enough."

"We're going to O'Malley's to celebrate my return home - ya wanna come with?"

Janet paused. "All right then, Colonel," she said and went past them, her white coat flapping. "Just give me ten minutes to change out of my uniform." She slipped out of the door, then poked her head back in. "And no hard liquor, Colonel," she warned.

"Napoleon," he mumbled.

Carter blinked. Did he just SAY that?

"I heard that!" she called from her office.

"Ears like a damn bat," he said in amazement.

"Heard that too, sir," Janet said, now sounding amused.

"Crap ...".

Carter giggled - now he looked like the puppy caught piddling on the carpet.

"No giggling, Captain!" O'Neill said, pointing an index finger sternly at her.

She drew herself to attention. "Of course, sir," she replied with a smile.

PART FOUR

Carter and Janet made their way unsteadily to the bar and leaned over. "Another round," Carter said, flashing her best smile at the young bar-tender.

She looked around O'Malley's. The guys and were sitting at a nearby table, waiting patiently for their drinks. She nudged Janet. "Damn; we've got some fine-looking men with us tonight!" she said.

Janet giggled - yep; she was drunk too. "Oh, yeah," she drawled, broadening her usually faint Southern accent.

"Sam?"

Carter turned from her perusal of the guys to look at the intruder. Fair hair, stocky build, about her height. "Have we met?" she said.

He blinked. "A few weeks ago," he said. "At McGinty's." He leaned in slightly. "You never called me back."

Carter laughed shortly. "I think you've got me confused with someone else," she said. "Let's face it; you're not my type." She pointed over to Colonel O'Neill. "See him; the tall guy with the gray hair and the brown eyes? HE'S my type."

Behind her, she heard Janet coughing wildly. "You okay, Janet?" she asked.

"Yeah," Janet said, giving another cough. She handed some money to the bar-tender and took the tray of drinks. "We've got boys to water!" she said.

"Okay." Carter giggled - she was SO drunk right now! "Bye, Paul," she said carelessly.

"Pete," he said.

"Whatever." Carter waggled her fingers and the second tray. "Well, I've heard better lines," she said.

"Yeah." Janet snorted inelegantly. "And when did you develop a thing for the Colonel?"

"I don't have a 'thing' for Jack ... the Colonel," Carter said. "But he IS a good looking guy. Surely you can see that."

"I suppose," Janet said thoughtfully. "It's just hard to see him that way when I spend a good portion of my time listening to his complaints." She sniggered and the tray wobbled alarmingly. "For a rough tough Special Forces Colonel, he acts more like a five year old in the Infirmary."

"Anyway ... what about you and Kawalsky?" Time for the biter to get bit.

Janet went red. "Major Kawalsky?" she echoed.

"Don't play innocent with me," Carter said. "You telling me you and him have never ... you know ... done the nasty?"

"Done the nasty?" Janet squeaked. "What the hell have you been reading lately, young lady?" Before Carter could reply, she got a dig in the ribs from her much smaller friend. "One word and I'll bring out my special big 'Colonel' needles at your next medical," Janet warned.

"Okay; I'll be good," Carter said meekly, immediately cowed by that threat. Although tiny, Janet was one formidable lady - even without what the Colonel would call her 'huge honkin' needles'.

++++

"SHE'S certainly not feeling any pain tonight," Kawalsky said, nudging O'Neill and jerking his head toward the dance floor.

O'Neill looked over to the dance floor, where Carter was dancing rather sexily with a tall good-looking guy about her own age. "Good for her," he said, lifting his beer bottle in a silent toast to her. "After slaving for weeks on that ... what was it again?"

"A particle accelerator, O'Neill," Teal'c supplied.

"Yeah; one of those. She deserves to let her hair down."

Kawalsky sniggered. "I don't think that's the only thing she's gonna be lettin' down tonight," he said.

O'Neill's eyes narrowed when he saw that another young man had attached himself to Carter. Geez; they were practically having sex right on that dance floor! She was drunk, and those two young jerks were taking advantage of her loosened inhibitions.

He slammed down his beer bottle, then got up and strode over to the dance floor. "Mind if I cut in, Carter?" he asked.

"Sir!" she said, not loosening her grip around the first young man's waist. "I'm kinda busy now; maybe I'll fit you in later." She sniggered, then hiccuped.

"Yeah; take a hike, old man," the second young man said. "C'mon, Sam; wanna go have some fun?"

"Yeah; I'm in the mood for something fun," she purred, turning and placing a hand on each of the young men's asses.

"Carter ...," O'Neill growled. "You're drunk. You're ditching these two yahoos, pouring yourself into a cab and going home ... ALONE."

"Ja-ack," she complained. "Y'know; you might be my superior officer, but we're not at work." She regarded him with unnaturally bright eyes. "Besides; you're the one who told me to get a life."

"You heard the lady, old man," the first guy said. "Get lost, before we break those old bones of yours."

"You can try," O'Neill said softly. Those two idiots were SO not a threat.

Carter seemed to agree. "He's Special Forces," she said. "He could kill you in thirty seconds and leave no trace."

"Yeah; right."

The two young men charged at O'Neill. He dropped one with a basic roundhouse blow, then pressed the other one up against the wall, cutting off his supply of air with three steely fingers to the windpipe. "Sam's leaving now," he said. "And not with you. Got that?"

The young man - barely able to breathe - could only nod with a wide-eyed panic.

"EXCELLENT!" O'Neill said in his best Mister Burns impression.

Carter put her hands on her hips. "That wasn't very nice, sir," she said with a childish pout.

"Don't care," he grunted. "Are you leaving or do I haul you outta here?"

Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare!" she said indignantly.

He dropped to a knee and grabbed her arm, pulling it over his shoulder. Then he got up, hauling her over his shoulder. "Jack!" she said, kicking out at him.

He swatted her backside, a little surprised to feel the sharp bone of her hip. How much weight HAD she lost over the last few months? He went over to the guys. "Carter's had enough; I'll see her home, then I'm for bed myself." He yawned widely, feeling the effects of planet lag for the first time in a long time. Then again, it had been a hard day emotionally speaking.

"Uh, Jack ...," Daniel said.

"Yes, Daniel?"

The archeologist squinted at him. "You know you've got a Captain on you."

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Funny, Daniel," he said. "Night, guys. And Doc, of course."

With a now-still Carter draped over his shoulder, he made his way out of the bar and headed over to a waiting cab. He ducked and placed her on the back seat, then got in himself.

"Where to, buddy?" the driver asked.

He rattled off her address and slammed the door shut as the driver shot off with a screech of tires.

"That was very caveman, Jack," Carter purred as he settled her onto the seat. "Liked the testosterone." She slid her hand up his pant leg to cup his crotch.

"Sam ...," he warned, lifting her hand off him.

"Well, you chased away my chance for a menage a trois" - he was pretty impressed she could even get that expression out. She licked her lips. "The least you can do is have sex with me."

"Carter ... you're drunk."

"Yeah?" She eyed him belligerently. "So what?"

"I don't take advantage of drunken women," he said. "Besides, you know I became involved with Laira. I'm not about to two-time her."

"Aw ... that's sweet, Jack. But really ... how long d'you expect to go without because your little playmate's on the other side of the ... world?" She leaned forward and ran her tongue over the scar in his eyebrow. "Want you."

Much as he might have enjoyed making out with a pretty young blonde, he knew full well that she was going to feel like shit come the morning. "Carter!" He grasped her shoulders. "Sit!"

She pouted. "Yes, sir," she said, and proceeded to do so. In his lap. She wiggled her butt into his pelvic region. "I know you want me, Jack." She grinned evilly. "I'm not so drunk that I can't feel it."

She was grinding a sweet little rounded ass right into his most sensitive area - of course it was going to respond! He pushed her off his lap and she fell with a giggle onto the seat. "Behave, Carter," he growled, closing his eyes and feeling a tension headache pound behind his eyes. It was going to be one LONG ride home.

++++

God ... so much blood. Her hands were covered in the blood of an innocent people. A simple agrarian people who had the misfortune to be sitting on one of the largest veins of naqadah the Goa'uld had ever come across. They hadn't stood a chance.

The old and the very young had been killed outright. The rest had been taken as slaves - some of the most beautiful to become hosts - and the planet was rapidly strip-mined.

So much blood ... all on her hands.

Carter woke up trembling and with tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked at her hands. Would she ever be free of the blood?

She got out of bed, her head spinning from all the drinks she'd had with Janet and the guys, and headed slowly into the bathroom. Stripping off her clothes, she switched on the shower and stepped under the sharp spray.

She put a hand under the water, looking at its pale skin in fascination. How could something so small and slim have wrought such atrocities? She closed her eyes briefly then grabbed her shower gel, depositing a great glob into the washcloth. She scrubbed it roughly over her hands, trying to get the blood stains out.

But the stains of her sin were internal - she knew that. No amount of scrubbing would ever wash her free.

Stained ... she was stained with the blood of countless people. Her stomach lurched and she dived out of the shower to curl up in front of the toilet, vomiting repeatedly.

Once she was certain she wasn't going to throw up any more, she got shakily to her feet and dragged a toweling robe over her damp body. She rinsed out her mouth and sighed. God ... if she didn't get some sleep soon, she'd go nuts. And she was to give a briefing to SG-2 tomorrow morning - this morning. She had to be at the top of her form.

She opened the cabinet and picked up the bottle of sleeping tablets. 'Just tonight,' she told herself sternly, palming two of the pills into her mouth and dry-swallowing them. 'Just tonight.'

++++

Three weeks later:

"Morning, Carter!"

She looked up as one Colonel Jack O'Neill leaned up against the door jamb to her lab, arms folded across his chest. "Sir; hi," she said, powering down her laptop and ejecting the floppy.

He regarded her curiously. "You look disgustingly healthy," he offered, sounding disgruntled.

She smiled slightly, accepting the silent accusation. She'd run into him last night at a little dive that had great beer. She HAD been pretty wasted, she recalled. "Never had a hangover in my life, sir," she said. She DID feel pretty good. She'd had six blissful hours of uninterrupted sleep and had managed to get in a half-hour on the running machine before heading for the lab.

He scowled. "That just ... that's not fair," he said. He eyed her suspiciously. "Ya sure you didn't pray to the porcelain god at all?"

"Last night, sir," she admitted - she could give him THAT much, if only to prevent the pouting. Yes, folks; a six three tough-as-nails forty-something USAF Colonel was about two seconds away from an all-out pout. It was actually quite endearing.

"Cool." He pushed himself upright, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Anyway; better go. Going to P2 ... yadda - more rocks for my favorite geek to marvel over."

"Artifacts, sir," Carter said, amused.

"Whatever," the Colonel shot back. "Whoa ..." - he shook his head. "Except for the 'sir', you nailed the Space Monkey." He shook his head again, then gave her a cheeky grin. "Anyway, can't stand here dawdling in the land of the eggheads - rocks to go look at."

Carter put her hands on her hips. "Eggheads?"

He back-pedaled. "Not that you're an egghead." He paused. "Well, you ARE actually, but ... in a cool way."

She chuckled. "Shouldn't you have made a beeping noise before backing up like that, sir?" she inquired.

He now wore a smirk a mile wide. "Teasing a superior officer, Carter? I'm proud of ya!"

She returned the smirk. "I learn from the best, sir," she said.

"Colonel O'Neill; report to the embarkation room!" the PA blared out.

"You're being paged, sir," she pointed out none too subtly, turning her attention to a strange piece of machinery SG-5 had brought back to the SGC yesterday.

"I can take a hint," O'Neill said. "Have fun with your ... doohickey."

"Doohickey?" she queried.

"I believe that's the technical term," he said, offering her an innocent smile. "Anyway; I'm off. See ya later, Carter."

"Bye, sir," she replied absently, picking up the ... doohickey. Damn the man; now she'd be calling it that for days!

++++

Klorel strode over to the young dark-haired female, then gripped her chin to examine her features. "Young and lovely," he murmured, staring into her wide brown eyes. "Bow before your god!" he barked.

The female spat defiantly. "You are no-one's god!"

Klorel aimed his hand device at the defiant one's forehead. She cried out and crumpled to her knees with the pain. He went over to her and she shuddered with the remnants of the pain. "If my host were not a female, you would be mine," he told the young woman harshly. He gave a short laugh as the female's eyes finally showed fear. "You are a maiden - that is interesting. Perhaps my Jaffa should teach you a woman's proper place."

He turned and summoned his First Prime; Lor'aq. "Jaffa, kree!"

The tall, slim - but deceptively strong - Jaffa went over to him. "Yes, My Lord Klorel," he said.

"You will take this female and bring her to womanhood," Klorel said. "Then if she still lives, she will serve the pleasures of you and your Jaffa."

"My Lord ...," the Jaffa said slowly.

"Lor'aq."

The Jaffa's eyes closed briefly. "I have done many things - performed many atrocities - in service to you, My Lord, but ... I will not force myself upon an unwilling female."

"You disobey me?" Klorel was enraged. "I am your god - you will do as I say!"

"No; I will not," Lor'aq said. He looked at his god with ... was that contempt? "A god would not ask me to defile a child like this." He indicated the terrified young woman.

"Then ... you will die." Klorel smiled unpleasantly, then nodded to the other Jaffa, who aimed their staff weapons at Lor'aq.

Three bolts blasted out and Lor'aq crumpled to the ground. As the light of life left his eyes, he whispered; "I ... die ... free." Then he was gone.

Klorel looked down at the shol'va. "Throw his body out of the airlock," he said to his new First Prime. "Then you will show the female her new role in life."

The Jaffa dipped his head. "Yes, My Lord," he said. He and the other Jaffa left, bearing the body of the shol'va.

Klorel went over to the young female, who was breathing heavily. "He ... you ...," she said. "You killed him," she whispered, a tear finally falling.

Klorel laughed lightly. "After six days of torture, you cry over a Jaffa? Compassion is a lovely thing ... in moderation." He pulled her to her feet, eyeing the slender form. "He called you a child - he was wrong." With a swift impatient move, he yanked off her robes, revealing womanly curves that had previously been hidden. "Beautiful," he said, then grasped her chin and covered her lips with his in a rough parody of a kiss.

Carter jerked awake, breathing heavily, then sat up, sweeping shaky hands through her hair. "Shit ...," she muttered.

"Hey, babe." A heavy hand landed on her breast, curving possessively. "What's the matter? Bad dream?"

"A doozy," she admitted, looking at the handsome dark-haired young man. "I ... uh ... I have to go," she muttered, pushing the man's hand off her body. Had to get out of there. "Work."

"Yeah, me too." The young man sat up and eyed her warily. "Y'know; I'm not looking for anything serious - just passing through - but maybe I'll look you up next time I'm in town."

"If you want," Carter said. She wasn't looking for anything serious either. But these random encounters helped her cling to her humanity - made her feel something other than hatred and despair. If only for a few hours. She gave him a soft kiss. "I'll see you around, huh?"

++++

Bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored.

I bore, you bore, we bore, they bore.

Bo-o-o-o-o-red!

Jack O'Neill - Special Forces USAF Colonel - was bored. Out of his gourd. To the point of actually shooting himself just so he could get the hell off this dust-bowl of a planet. But that would mean spending time with the evil Doc and her huge needles. He shuddered.

"Oh, my God. Jack; you have to see this!" Daniel was ... excited.

O'Neill manfully swallowed a sigh, then tucked his P90 under his arm and headed over to his favorite scientist geek. "It's a rock, Daniel," he said patiently, looking at the item in question.

"The markings are English!" Daniel said. He blew some dust off the carving. "Old English - probably Elizabethan time."

O'Neill couldn't have cared less. "And ...?" His free hand made a 'get on with it' gesture.

"So that could indicate that the Goa'uld ...".

"Were being snaky pains in the butt on Earth as recently as the fifteenth century," O'Neill said. "And this affects us ... how?" He snickered internally at the nonplused look on Daniel's face. "Helps to have a Masters in English History, Danny," he said.

Daniel shut his mouth with an audible snap. "A Masters ... You have a Masters degree?"

"Yep," O'Neill said. "You don't think they'll let just any schmuck into Special Forces, do ya?"

Daniel still looked stunned. "Not as dumb as you look, huh?" he said.

"Did you even doubt that, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c inquired.

O'Neill smirked, then paused. "Was that a slam, T?"

"You must choose your own interpretation of my words, O'Neill," the big Jaffa said before moving off.

Daniel chuckled. "He's getting better at the humor thing," he offered.

"Yeah," O'Neill said absently, still chewing over the Jaffa's comment. "Anyway; are you done here? My favorite TV show's on tonight and I don't want to miss it ... again."

Daniel sighed. "Yes, Jack; I'm finished here," he said patiently.

"Great!" O'Neill bounced slightly on his toes. "Then pack it up and let's go home."

++++

"Welcome back, SG-1," Hammond said as O'Neill stepped off the ramp. "How was the mission?"

"Oh, wonderful, sir," O'Neill said. "Sand and rocks - Daniel was in hog heaven."

Hammond just LOOKED at him - that 'I am the General here - don't honk me off unless you want to spend the next six months chained to your desk signing requisitions' look. "I trust your briefing will be a bit more informative, Colonel," he said.

"Yes, sir," O'Neill said, chastened - a little. "We'll be happy to debrief you after I've debriefed for a nice hot shower," he added.

"Permission granted, Colonel," Hammond said. "Dismissed."

"Yes, sir," O'Neill said, loping out of the embarkation room and handing his P90 to one of the SFs.

He'd joined the Air Force to try to gain control over his wild rebellious nature, but was the first one to admit it hadn't been entirely successful. He managed to channel a lot of his excess energy on his missions, but still tended to get ... antsy. And quiet missions like this latest one brought out the worst of his insubordinate streak. Bo-o-o-o-o-ring!

He stuffed his fists into his pockets, then headed to the locker room, making sure the sign was turned to 'Male'. Due to the disproportionately high male to female ratio of active officers on this base, female personnel did not yet have their own locker room. Their own shower block had been requisitioned three months ago, but the cogs of USAF bureaucracy run slowly, and so far permission had not been given.

He went into the locker room, yanking off his BDU jacket and tee shirt. He rounded the corner into the shower area, then skidded to a halt. "Whoa, Carter!" he said, pulling his tee shirt back over his head. "Y'know these are the men's showers right now?"

She didn't respond - didn't even turn round to face him. Her shoulders were hunched and she hugged her knees to her chest, like a little girl. "Carter?" He went over to her and was shocked. Her face was pale and drawn, her eyes huge and her hair stood up madly.

"Carter." He touched her shoulder. "You okay?"

She looked up at him. "Sir," she said softly. "Sorry; I didn't notice the time. I'll get out of your way."

"You didn't answer me," he persisted. "Are you okay?"

She squared her shoulders, then got up from the floor. "Fine, sir," she said, then touched her stomach. "Just a bit sick. Think I'll go to the Infirmary."

"You do that, Carter," he said. "You look like shit," he added affectionately.

A smile touched her lips. "Such a flatterer you are, sir," she teased.

++++

Carter breathed in deeply as she hurried out of the locker room. Christ ... falling asleep in the men's locker room! But that two-day party had SO been worth it!, she decided. For two days, she had danced and drank and had wild monkey sex with 25-year-old hard bodies. That life the Colonel had ordered her to get was a lot more enjoyable than she would have believed during her Academy years.

But maybe she shouldn't do the two-day parties during weekends. Not if it was going to impact on her job performance. She'd save herself for her next leave period - which was in about two weeks.

She knew that sleeping around was both stupid and dangerous. But she enjoyed it. A lot. She'd never experimented as a teenager - partly due to being General Jacob Carter's little girl and partly because she was working very hard to get into the Air Force. Then she worked on her degree to qualify for OCS. After the Gulf War, she began work on her doctorate, which took up most of her free time and then some. A personal life had been a myth to Samantha Carter.

She could almost hear her old Academy room-mate saying "You go, girl!". She gave a chuckle and headed back for her lab, smothering a yawn as she approached one of the SG-3 Marines.

"Hey, egghead," Major Reynolds said. The Marine had transferred recently from the Groom Lake facility - also known as Area 51 - to take over command of SG-3 after Colonel Makepeace was indicted for treason. He'd been working with the NID to steal technology from the SGC's off-world allies, but Colonel O'Neill had helped bust that little operation.

"Hey, jarhead," she said with a smile. Since they'd met a couple weeks ago, they'd indulged in a great deal of harmless flirting. It was fun. He was engaged, and she wasn't in the market for a relationship, but the flirting helped ease the tension both experienced in their respective jobs. "How's Caroline?"

"Good," Reynolds said. "We've set the date. June 15th next year."

"Good for you," Carter said. "Guess that means you won't be wanting wild monkey sex tonight, huh?"

Reynolds chuckled. "In your dreams, egghead; in your dreams," he returned in the same light tone. He looked at her. "You know; you look like shit, Carter."

She coughed. "Geez; and I actually thought you were charming!" she said. "At least for a jarhead." She yawned again. "Partied a bit too hard this weekend," she admitted. "I'll catch up on my sleep tonight."

"Doctor Carter!" Jay Felger came rushing up to her. "You're needed in the lab."

Carter sighed. "Thanks, Jay; I'll be right there," she said.

++++

Pain. God ... so much pain. She opened her eyes slowly, feeling her head pound, and looked around.

The room was squalid, lit by a single naked light-bulb, and was littered with empty bottles, dirty clothes and old newspapers.

She sat up, gasping as her pelvis protested the sudden movement. What the hell had happened? Where the hell WAS she? She remembered ... singing - badly - ... dancing ... kissing. Rough, lust-filled kisses. Eager, grasping hands. Painful, bruising hands. Knives ...

She looked down at her torso and saw gouges cross-hatcheted over her breasts. Oh, God ... Head spinning, she forced her aching body to stand and reached shakily for her clothes. She had little memory of last night, but it was pretty obvious she'd had some pretty rough sex.

"Leavin' so soon?" a man slurred. "I ain't finished with you yet, baby."

Carter's head whipped round to find a tall thin man lurch toward her, holding a blood-stained knife. 'I am a Captain in the United States Air Force - this man will not hurt me again.' "Yes, you are," she said, wincing inwardly at how scratchy her voice sounded.

"You liked it well enough last night, you little whore," the man said, swinging the knife nonchalantly by its handle. "Screaming and pleading ...". He leered at her. "Couldn't get enough."

Carter stuffed her feet into her loafers, willing herself not to puke in front of this sick psycho son of a bitch. "I'm leaving," she said. "And pray I never see you again."

The man laughed. "Yeah?" He stepped quickly over to her and grasped painfully at one of her breasts.

She blinked as her vision grayed, but it seemed her body wasn't about to betray her yet. She brought her knee up into the man's crotch - he screamed and fell, dropping his knife. "Fuckin' whore!" he cursed, getting back up.

She scooped up the knife with a trembling hand and held it in front of her. "Lay one finger on me and I'll slit you from throat to dick and leave the entrails for the rats," she said. She forced herself to steady the hand. "I mean it." She backed away from him, dropping the knife, and left the dank little hole.

Trembling, she made her way out of the apartment block, swaying dizzily as the sunlight hit her. God ... what the HELL had she allowed to happen?

++++

She let herself into her apartment and closed the door behind her, using both dead bolts and the key. Taking deep breaths to quell the nausea, she made her way through the small apartment, locking all the windows.

Her chest and pelvic area were very painful by now, and she knew she should really report to Janet. But that would lead to too many questions ... questions she did NOT want to answer.

Almost mechanically, she headed for her shower and stripped off her clothes. She switched on the water and stepped under the spray. She had to report to the SGC in less than three hours, and Hammond would have her hide if she was late again.

She looked in the mirror and was dismayed. Was this skinny woman with the lank hair and gaunt face the bright confident Samantha Carter she'd once been? Sam Carter would never have allowed that bastard anywhere near her. So ... who was she now? Another 'date rape' victim? Another one who'd "had it coming"?

She looked at the dirty hand prints over her body, the bruises on her ribcage, her thighs, the traces of blood on her inner thighs. Dirty ... She was so dirty. She broke into a helpless sob, then picked up her nail brush. Had to be clean. She worked cautiously over her inner thighs, removing the encrusted blood, then tackled the less painful areas of her rib cage. Had to be clean.

Tears ran down her cheeks as the water pounded down. Clean. Had to be clean. Had to be clean. She began to scrub furiously. Had to be clean.

To be continued in 'Reclaimed'.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Most of Part I and some of Part II were taken shamelessly from the episodes 'Children Of The Gods' (written by Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner) and 'Pretense' (written by Katharyn Powers). Bits of Part III were lifted from 'A Hundred Days' (written by V. C. James).

<< BACK