Jack propped himself up
on one elbow, the better to observe the sleeping woman laid beside him
in his bed. Sam's face was relaxed, lips slightly parted in a gentle
snore. Her blonde hair was mussed, delightfully so, and he swept a
wayward strand out of her eyes. The room was in shadow, the glow from
the master bath shedding its meager light into the room.
He sighed softly and
eased out of bed, careful to avoid waking Sam. Just because he had to
pee didn't mean she should lose anymore sleep than she had too. God knew
she probably would be worried sick about him when . . .
Jack ruthlessly quashed
that thought, time enough to worry about that scenario when - not if -
it happened. While with the President, he'd downplayed the likelihood of
Baal coming for him right away, but deep down, he knew the Goa'uld
couldn't afford to wait long to make his move against him. Not with a
bunch of Baal clones to keep in line.
O'Neill's demand that he
be allowed to spend some time alone with Sam wasn't met with much
resistance. But then, he hadn't really been surprised; after all, the
President of the United States had virtually ordered him to play clay
pigeon to one of Jack's own - and his worlds - worst nightmares. The
Hayes owed him - big time - and he'd made no bones about it.
Bribe him with a little
R&R? Not a problem - though this gave a whole new meaning to the
condemned man's last meal.
He grinned wolfishly.
They'd made love, franticly shedding their clothing as soon as the door
to his townhouse was closed and locked - as if they recognized it would
be a long while till the next time - probably because it would.
Dodging the clothing
strewn like landmines on the floor, he padded into the bathroom and
closed the door behind him. His bladder was so full his eyes were
turning yellow. He'd take care of that 'pressing matter' first - then
he'd rinse off in the shower.
To the tinkling sound of
liquid streaming into the toilet bowl, he considered his options. To say
that he was worried was an understatement. He had Sam - and her safety -
to consider and had the sinking feeling that time was running out.
Quite frankly it scared
the pee out of him - he smirked at his pun - and resolved to manufacture
a way to use that one in the future. It would play even better with
Teal'c as his straight-man.
Now for a quick shower,
the first he'd had in his own bathroom in over a week. He turned on the
water, satisfied that he knew ahead of time just how far to turn the
faucet so the water's temperature would be just right. That was the
beauty of using your own stuff; you knew how it would turn out because
you'd worked it out ahead of time.
It was times like this
that he thanked his lucky stars that he'd invested in a larger hot water
heater. After a stressful day at work, he needed all the help he could
get to relax. If this past week hadn't been nerve-racking - then he'd
like to know what was.
He stepped inside the
shower, closed the door, and stood there; eyes closed and face up-turned
as the water peppered his skin, cascaded in rivulets down his stomach
and legs.
Then Jack opened his
mouth; water spattered his features, filled his mouth and trickled down
his chin. He puckered, swished, and then leaned over and spat. His
expectorant hit the water and swirled into the drain near his feet.
With his palms flat
against the tiles, he leaned forward and let the water knead his back
and neck. Each muscle in his body gradually relaxed as the hot water and
steam did their magic. Only then did he pick up the soap and lather up
the washcloth.
While his hands
automatically scrubbed his body, his mind returned to the safety issue.
He would send Sam away in the morning; much as he wanted her with him,
it was simply too dangerous. They should be safe for now - but later?
That was another story.
Since the President had
posted a guard outside in a van parked on the street Jack figured they
could risk being together tonight. Both Hammond and Hayes had wanted a
guard in his townhouse with him, but he'd flat-out put his foot down and
vetoed the idea. They needed their privacy after all - and there was his
promise to Sam.
A knock on the shower
door startled him and his soap slipped between his fingers, ricocheted
off the tiles to land in a corner of the shower with a plop.
"Jack?"
The voice was muffled by
the water, but it wasn't too hard to figure out who it belonged to. He
doubted that Baal or his goons would bother knocking on his shower door
and there was only one other person in his house - Sam. As for his
guard, they were outside - or had better be.
"Sam?"
Her face appeared when she wiped a round spot onto the fogged glass
door. "You want company?"
"Ya think?" He smirked.
When she hesitated, he
opened the door for her. "Come on in, the water's great."
Sam smiled and joined
him; Jack enjoyed the view as she joined him and shut the door behind
her. He moved to the side so she could stand under the water where it
spattered off the top of her head and trickled down the tiles. As he
watched, she licked droplets off her upper lip. Jack blinked the water
out of his eyes and opened his arms; an invitation to come closer.
"Did I wake you?" He asked.
His chin dripped as Jack
wiped the droplets of water away from her eyes. He thought she'd never
looked better; her wet skin glistened in the soft light and her dog tags
nestled in the vee of her breasts.
"No, but I woke up and
you were gone, I . . ." She stopped and wrapped her arms around his
waist and hugged him - hard.
"Oh, sorry, I guess I
didn't think." His fingers linked in the middle of her back and he
nuzzled the side of her neck.
"It's okay. When I heard the shower, it didn't take a rocket
scientist to figure out where you were."
"Even though you are one?"
She giggled into his chest and pinched him on the butt, "Silly."
"No, giggling, Carter," he murmured.
Sam was silent and laid
her head against his chest as the water flowed over both of them.
"Jack?" she murmured into
his chest, his skin prickled where her finger traced a circle around his
dog tags.
"What?"
"I'm scared."
"I know, honey, so am I,"
he murmured into her neck and rubbed her back; the sound of her beating
heart loud in the confines of the shower stall.
With the falling water
drenching their bodies, they stood, wrapped in each other's arms until
their close proximity aroused him.
"Is that your sidearm, Jack?" she teased.
"Um, hmm - 9 mil." He
smirked down at her up-turned face, "And it's locked and loaded."
He kissed her and her
lips parted, inviting him inside. Their tongues tangled, and he
withdrew. With closed eyes, she moaned as her hands roamed his lean
body. He shivered with delight when her hands traced his spine from his
hips all the way up to his neck.
"Why don't we take this
elsewhere?" Jack kissed her parted lips. "My knees and back can't handle
a tango for two in here - and I want you."
Sam panted her agreement.
They left the shower,
arm-in-arm and made love on the bed. This time it was slow and tender -
both of them wanting to satisfy the other.
Afterward, sated, their
limbs entwined, they fell into an exhausted sleep.
Back in the shower, the
bar of soap, much smaller now, its surface mottled with dried bubbles,
lay in the corner of the shower stall, forgotten.
***
Five figures stood in the
room when the flash of white light faded. Four wore Baal's brand on
their foreheads; the other wore no brand and looked to be Baal himself -
but was instead his clone.
"Find him," he directed
softly. The Jaffa obeyed and spread out to the other rooms to search for
their prey.
At the entrance to one,
the Jaffa paused and then motioned for silence. He beckoned to the
clone.
"He is here, my lord," he whispered.
The sound of rustling
bedding could be heard. Baal crept to the Jaffa's side. The Jaffa drew
his zat and slipped into the chamber. The others followed.
The sound of a scuffle
was interrupted by the sound of a zat discharge - once then twice.
"Fool!" cursed Baal's
clone as he shouldered into the room past the Jaffa gathered at the
door. "He was to be taken alive."
"He was not alone, my lord."
The clone surveyed the
two naked bodies, a male curled up on the floor and a female still in
bed, half-hidden by the sheets. He recognized both immediately and the
scent that wafted from each of the nude bodies told him more than words
could. This day luck had smiled upon him.
"The Tau'ri O'Neill and
his mate, Carter," he chuckled and stroked his goatee. "This is even
better."
"Ack, don't you," O'Neill
gasped and shook his head as if to clear it, "believe in knocking?"
The clone chuckled, low in his throat and his eyes flashed.
"Carter?" The Tau'ri ground out between clenched teeth as he brought
his knees up to his chest.
"Sir?" she panted and writhed on the bed.
O'Neill struggled to
stand but collapsed again as his limbs twitched uncontrollably.
"Hair-Baal," he spat and lunged toward the Jaffa and the clone. "Run."
He managed to take down
two Jaffa in front of him, but was overpowered from behind.
"Bring them both," The Goa'uld ordered.
"No, you don't need her,"
The male Tau'ri argued as two Jaffa grabbed his wind milling arms.
"She's not important."
The Tau'ri continued to
struggle, but a cuff to his jaw whipped his head around and ended his
fight. He slumped between them - unconscious - as they hoisted him to
his feet, his head lolled to one side.
"No!" Carter screamed
sprang toward the Jaffa, her teeth bared in a snarl.
A slap to her face
propelled her back onto the bed where she sprawled on her side,
insensible. For a moment, Baal's clone observed her as she lay entangled
in the blue sheets, her blonde hair half-obscured her pale face. A
reddened spot marked where she'd been struck and marred what otherwise
would have been a complexion without blemish.
The clone reached down
and grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger - turning it from
one side to another. While she could not compete with the beauty of the
Goa'uld queen, Anat, she was an excellent female specimen.
Though the clone was not
privy to all of Baal's plans for the Tau'ri O'Neill, he knew that his
master would not be pleased if he missed the chance to obtain another
test subject for his scientists.
This unexpected find
would elevate him above the others in his master's sight. Such was the
competition between him and his brother clones that each opportunity for
advancement was grasped as would be any prize beyond measure. The Tau'ri
Carter was such a prize.
"My lord?"
"Yes, she will do nicely."
Confident that his Jaffa
would deal with the prisoners, the clone stepped back from the bed and
surveyed the bedroom.
"This should do."
The Jaffa wrapped Carter
in a sheet and hoisted her across one shoulder; her head and arms
dangled limply against his back. O'Neill sagged between two other
Jaffa.
The Jaffa with their two
captives encircled the clone who then pressed a band on his wrist. They
left the same way they'd come, in a flash of white light. Baal's clone
was satisfied; the entire process had taken place within the allotted
time.
***
Seconds later, the front
door to Jack's townhouse burst inward. Several black-clad SF's, the
butts of their P-90's braced between their flak vests and their arms,
rushed into the room. The flashlights mounted on the shortened barrels
formed tiny circles that ranged around the room and illuminated the
walls, floors, and furnishings.
With hand signals, the
leader directed them to search the entire townhouse. By ones and twos,
they scattered to investigate the adjoining rooms; then, each team
rendezvoused at the front door.
"Report," ordered the leader.
"No one was found, sir."
"No one?"
He scrutinized the faces of each member of his squad. They shook
their heads.
The SF keyed his mike and
it crackled to life. "This is Blue Leader, target's home was searched
and the cupboard was bare, I repeat, the cupboard was bare - do you
copy?"
"Blue leader - we copy - out."
He turned to his squad
and motioned, "Harris and Burns - guard the front door until the lab
folks can go over the place." The indicated soldiers nodded. "The rest
of you - move out. Debrief in fifteen minutes."
***
President Hayes rolled
over when he felt someone touch his shoulder. He grunted with
frustration and tried to elude it. He'd just gotten to sleep and was
having a wonderful dream about - of all things - fishing - just him and
a lake full of fish. No secret service agents, no reporters - just him
and his pole.
"Mister President?" The
hand shook him again and he recognized the voice of his aide.
"I'm awake, what is it?" he grumbled.
He opened his eyes and
knuckled the sleep from them. Now he knew why his predecessors all ended
up with premature gray hair and wrinkles out the wah-zoo. They never got
enough uninterrupted sleep. Not for the first time, he wondered what
he'd been thinking when he'd fought so hard for this job.
"You have an urgent phone
call from General Landry, Mister President."
Wide-awake now, he rolled over and sat up. "Landry? What does he
want in the middle of the night?"
"I don't know, Mister President. Do you want some coffee?"
"Might as well, it
doesn't look like I'll be getting back to sleep."
He picked up the phone
and held it to his ear. "Hank, do you have any idea what time it is?"
"I'm afraid I do, Mister
President. I'm sorry that I woke you, but this couldn't wait till
morning. I was just informed by the Prometheus that Jack was beamed
onboard an orbiting al-kesh a few minutes ago. The men assigned to
protect him confirmed that he was nowhere to be found in his home and
reported seeing two bright flashes of light."
"So soon? Damn, I was hoping . . ."
He waved to his aide who
had just wheeled in a cart holding the coffee service and put his hand
over the mouthpiece. "Put it over there, John, and I'll get to it in a
second."
Then he removed his hand
from the mouthpiece. "Thank goodness we installed that homing device
when we did - at least we can track him."
"That's not all, Mister President," Hank added. "Jack wasn't alone."
"What do you mean?"
"According to the
surveillance team, Carter is missing too. Evidently he took them both.
The Prometheus said the al-kesh made the jump to hyperspace soon after
they were beamed aboard."
"Is the Prometheus tracking him?"
"No, they lost the signal
when the ship entered the hyperspace window. But we've contacted Thor.
His ship, the Daniel Jackson, is supposed to be in the area."
"Dammit! I knew I
should've insisted on a guard inside his house." Hayes finger-combed his
hair and grimaced, "Why didn't we consider the possibility that Baal
might take Jack off-world?"
"We thought Baal would stay on our world, Mister President," Hank
paused, "Obviously, we were wrong."
"So, we lost them?"
"Yes, Mister President."
"Let me know as soon as you hear from the Asgard."
"I'll do that, Mister President."
Henry pressed more
buttons on the phone, "Get me Jumper on the phone and if you see my
aide, get me some more coffee. It's going to be a long night."
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