Part Three
"Babe; you okay?" Jack asked.
"Fine," Malia said grumpily. "No pain-killers in this house?"
"Just ibuprofen – I don't keep anything stronger around," Jack replied, handing her a foil-covered packet.
"It's no good." Malia thrust the tablets back at him. "Ibuprofen doesn't work with my physiology." Several thousands of years away from the first world had altered her people's physiology enough to make certain medicines ineffective. She pressed her fists into her stomach. "I'll just ride it out," she said.
"C'mere," Jack said, patting the bed.
"Jack … I'm not exactly in the mood," she sighed. Usually she found it difficult to resist this passionate man – in fact, she was often the aggressor – but she was really not up to making love.
"I know you're hurting, Malia; I was married, remember?" he said. "Sara didn't like to take medication for it so I learned a massage that helped."
Malia looked at him, pleased that he could talk about his ex-wife without the shadow appearing in his brown eyes. He'd even managed to talk about Charlie yesterday, and that was the greatest of his many painful memories. "All right," she said, sitting down next to him.
He shifted his long legs so that she was sitting between them, then slid his warm sure hands inside her tee shirt. He began a circular soothing motion, his fingers seeming to know exactly where she hurt most.
She sighed as Jack's magic hands soothed her distressed abdomen. "Sometimes it really stinks to be female," she said, leaning into him. "Mmmmm," she nearly purred – whilst she felt distinctly un-sexy at the moment, his warm fingers were igniting little flickers of desire. Her current discomfort would be over within a couple of days then he would be able to use his hands in a much more intense fashion.
Jack smiled as Malia's head fell back against his shoulder, her pain eased for the time being. "Magic hands, Jack," she mumbled, turning her head and pressing a kiss into his neck. "I'll make this up to you," she added.
He carefully eased her away from him, allowing her to curl up on the bed. "Just rest," he said, stroking her cheek with a forefinger. "I'll keep an eye on Tiressa."
"Thanks, babe," she muttered, her eyes closing. "I love you."
"Love you too," he said then left the bedroom quietly. He closed the door then strolled out of the cabin, stuffing his fists into his pockets.
"Jack."
"Oh. Hey, Pete."
"Is she all right?" the younger man asked.
"Yeah," Jack said with a smile. "Just female stuff."
"Right," Pete Shanahan said. He'd been married previously, Jack knew – he understood. "I'm glad you're here, actually," he added. "You know Sam pretty well, don't you?"
"Yeah," Jack said. "We've gone through a lot together."
"Yeah," Pete replied. "I was … uh … planning to ask her to marry me," he added. "D'you think she'll accept?"
"Now that I couldn't tell you," Jack said. He knew that Carter had been married very briefly before the Stargate program went online and that it had gone sour. She'd been gun-shy for a long time after her divorce, preferring to avoid men in a social context. But that was a long time ago – maybe things had changed. He'd never seen her so happy as when she was with this cop. "But I know she's happy with you. Hell, she's even taken time off without being ordered to!"
Pete chuckled. "She's way smarter than I am – I don't think her brain ever stops whirring. But I love her; she makes me happy." He stuck his hand out to Jack. "Thanks, Jack," he said.
"You're welcome," Jack said. "Just remember; you make her unhappy and you'll have both Jacob and Selmak after you!"
"Whoa." Pete shuddered. "So … what about you and Malia? She's a real babe – want to make it a double wedding?" he teased.
"I've thought about marriage," Jack admitted, "but you know what my life's like. I don't know if I'll still be alive in a month's time. I can't do that to her."
"Geez; for an Air Force Colonel, you can be dumb, Jack," Pete said. "Everyone dies some time. She'll hurt whether you're married or not."
The guy had a point but …
"Put it this way, Jack; she makes you happy, and you make her happy. Then there's Tiressa. You're already a family; just without a wedding ring. Why shouldn't you snatch a little bit of happiness while you can?"
"You know, Pete; for a cop, you're not so dumb," Jack said.
Two days later:
Malia was feeling much better. She strolled out to the deck, where Jack sat with a line dangling into the water. "Morning," she said, sitting down next to him and pressing a gentle kiss onto his cheek, breathing in his scent – a combination of toothpaste and his own pheromones. "You need a shave," she added.
"Huh; so the vagrant look doesn't work for me, then?" he said, turning his head to regard her with twinkling brown eyes.
"Not so much," she said. "I suppose some women might find it sexy, but I like your smooth skin much better." She slipped her hand inside his waistband and caressed the warm skin of his lower abdomen. "Like this, for instance."
"Ah." He swallowed hard. "Feeling better, I take it?"
"Much," she purred, fastening her lips to the pulse throbbing just under his ear. He tasted delicious. She understood the biological imperative that drove her right now – this was the time she was most fertile – but told her brain to shut up. Just enjoy, she thought as his lips captured hers in an urgent kiss.
"Uh … much as I'm enjoying this, could we do this someplace a little more private?" he said as her other hand slipped inside his waistband and made contact with his rear.
"Mmmmm," she said, removing her hands reluctantly.
He rewound the reel of his fishing line then tugged at her hand. "Let's go," he ordered.
An hour or so later, Malia and Jack lay together, hearts pounding and limbs entwined. "Gods, I love you," she said, stroking his hair-roughened chin.
He nuzzled the bare skin of her shoulder. "I love you too, babe," he said. He propped himself up on one elbow as his dark eyes danced lazily over her body. For many years she'd despised her tall curvy figure, but now she was glad that he found her so sexy. "In fact …" – he leaned over and took a small box out of the bedside drawer – "will you marry me?"
"What?" He flicked open the box to reveal a platinum ring fashioned in a delicate filigree style with a single beautiful emerald in the center. "You're serious?" she said, putting her hand to her mouth. The ring was quite simply the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen, but marriage?
"Yeah." He looked shy all of a sudden. "I know it's pretty sudden, but I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and Tiressa – if you'll have me."
"Oh." The quiet sincerity in his brown eyes touched her and she took his free hand in hers. "I do love you, Jack, but this is a big step," she said.
"I know," he replied. "Neither of us had much luck in our previous marriages, but we make each other happy. We can't let fear get in the way of that."
He was right. She loved this enigmatic, sarcastic, charismatic Tauri with a passion she wouldn't have believed possible a year ago. "You're right," she said. She pressed a warm kiss to his lips. "I would be proud and honored to marry you, Jack O'Neill," she told him.
"You … would?" His shoulders had tensed, obviously braced for a rejection.
"I would," she mocked gently. "But I want to talk to Tiressa first. I know she loves you as Uncle Jack, but becoming her father is something else entirely. If she's happy with this, then I'll marry you – whenever you want."
"Ugh. I can't believe how quickly the last couple of weeks have passed," Malia said from her comfortable position within her husband's warm arms. She drew a lazy pattern on his chest with a finger.
He sucked in a deep breath and smoothed a hand over her head. "It's been great, but we knew we'd have to get back to reality some time."
"Yeah." She sighed and abandoned her exploration of his body – it wasn't half as much fun when she was surrounded by people and they were both clothed.
"Seventh chevron; engaged," the Sergeant said from the control room.
The wormhole whooshed out then settled back, the event horizon shimmering invitingly. "Well … guess that's my cue," Jack said. "I'll … uh … I'll miss you." He shoved his hands in his pockets.
She blinked back the tears – not in any kind of hell was she going to cry in front of the SF! "I'll miss you too. Just come back soon or I'll track you down and beat the griss out of you!"
"I love you too, babe," he chuckled and brushed a tender kiss over her lips. "I'd better go – Jacob's waiting for me."
She squeezed his hand. "I do love you, Jack O'Neill," she said. "Just remember that."
He smirked then touched her cheek gently. "I will, Malia O'Neill," he said, then strode up the ramp and into the wormhole.
Then he was gone.
Jack stepped out of the wormhole cautiously, his senses telling him something wasn't right. Arislet twitched, letting him know that they weren't alone.
He heard the familiar whine of a staff weapon powering up and looked down. Jacob Carter was unconscious and several Jaffa surrounded them. "Ah, crap," he muttered.
"Welcome back to Vorash, Tok'ra," someone said. "I understand you've been searching for me."
Jack looked at the Goa'uld. Black cloak, kinda cliché manner, couldn't see his face. "Probably have," he said. "Which one are you, then?"
The Goa'uld chuckled. "Your insolence amuses me," he said. "Perhaps I will not kill you yet." He turned and barked at the Jaffa. "Jaffa, kree!"
Two Jaffa dragged Jacob onto his feet whilst another two clamped Jack's shoulders. "I will enjoy breaking you, Arislet of the Tok'ra," the Goa'uld said. "Your host is a strong male; it will be a worthy challenge."
"I'm flattered," Jack quipped wryly.
Oh, Jack; be quiet, for crying out loud!, Arislet said. You have no idea who this is, do you?
Not a one, Jack replied. Kinda hard to tell with that cloak thing.
That is Anubis, Arislet said.
Ah. This was so not good.
"You try my patience, Tok'ra!" Anubis' First Prime said. He sneered at Jack. "Fortunately, my Lord Anubis is more forbearing than I."
Jack summoned up his strength to glare at the Jaffa. "Anubis ain't no-one's god," he said. "He's an overdressed, clichéd, snaky, slimy …"
A heavy fist in his mouth cut off the flow of words and he detected the metallic taste of blood. "Anubis is a god," the Jaffa said.
"Shel kek nem ron," Jack said, spitting out the blood.
"What?" This gave the big man pause. Probably wasn't used to hearing Jaffa words from a Tok'ra.
"Shel kek nem ron," Jack repeated. He wasn't too sure what the phrase meant, but he'd seen Teal'c persuade more than a few Jaffa to defect with it. "Don't you want your people to be free?"
This time the fist landed with a crunch on his cheekbone. "Shol'va!" the Jaffa spit as Jack blinked, his stomach threatening to evacuate its contents. "Take him away," he told one of his underlings.
Pain. Ow. Ow, ow, ow. No … pain good – you're still alive, O'Neill. Open your eyes – good airman. Move the legs.
"A-ah! Shit!" Jack gasped as his legs protested the movement. On the Jack O'Neill scale of pain, this rated a five – he'd had a helluva lot worse. Suck it up, fly-boy.
Try to be still, Jack, Arislet said. I'm attempting to repair your injuries, but am weak. It will go much easier if you aren't your usual hyperactive self.
Love you too, Jack shot back, struggling to sit up then resting his back against the wall of the cell. A certain shuddering on the mothership told him that they'd dropped out of hyperspace and were probably now entering an atmosphere. "Jake?" he said out loud.
"He is very weak," Selmak said, "but I am attempting to repair his injuries. Arislet?"
Jack allowed Arislet to take over. "Jack too is weakened, although he will not admit it," she said. "He's very stubborn."
"Indeed," Selmak said. "That is a trait our hosts share in common."
"Not just our hosts, Selmak," Arislet said with a chuckle. "I've known you a long time, old friend."
Selmak didn't reply. Jake!, Jack said, alarmed.
Arislet summoned all her strength and leaned over to Jacob. He is unconscious, she told her host. It is the best thing for him; it will allow Selmak to continue her repairs.
Even before she could voice her next thought, she felt Jack's rejection. No way, he insisted. If I lose consciousness again, snake-boy will think I'm weak. The only reason he's keeping us alive is that we're a curiosity to him.
Stubborn male. Arislet rolled her host's eyes. Are all Tauri as pigheaded as you, or does it come from being in the military?, she asked, pleased when Jack chuckled.
A bit of both, I suppose, Jack responded. We can rest when this is over. But, for now, we need to find a way out of this ship.
"I won't tell you anything," the stubborn Tok'ra insisted.
Anubis was intrigued by this Tok'ra. He had a strength of will that nearly matched his own, despite the daily beatings and interrogations, and had yet to give Anubis any real information.
For centuries, he had been aware of the Tok'ra, but had given them little thought. They plotted and maneuvered behind the scenes, but caused very little trouble all in all. Things had changed recently – they had become much more aggressive; actively seeking out and destroying several System Lords.
"Perhaps not," he agreed, causing the Tok'ra's dark eyes to flicker over to him. "But I can implant this device directly into your mind. It will link your mind to my computer; all your knowledge will be mine."
Amazingly, the Tok'ra laughed. "Hate to tell you this, Anubis, but I'm not the smartest guy around. There isn't much rattling round in here, unless you happen to be a Simpsons fan."
"Oh, I believe you give yourself far too little credit," Anubis said. "I have learned much about you – your host is a high-ranking soldier. You have a superior tactical ability and are proficient in something you call 'Black Ops'." He leaned over to him. "You deeply regret the deaths of two of your team in a place called East Germany."
The host's hand flew up to his temple and felt the scarring. "Shit," he muttered. "Memory recall device?"
Anubis was pleased. Unlike some of the other System Lords, he respected and appreciated an intelligent adversary – it was much more satisfying to witness their defeat. "You are familiar with them?"
The host grunted. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Hathor's goons used 'em on me a few years ago." He smiled slightly. "I killed her snaky butt – that was a good moment."
With any other host, Anubis would have thought that this statement was simply bravado or a way to annoy. But with this host, he wasn't so sure. He had seen much of the soldier's memories, and knew that this was a man accustomed to killing. There was an inner darkness that was ripe for exploitation. He was worthy of further study.
"You intrigue me, Tauri," he said. The dark eyes didn't flicker, but Anubis noted the subtle tensing of the man's hands. "Yes; I know you are of the Tauri, Jack O'Neill," he added. "I also know how you feel about the Tok'ra. Perhaps you should have a friend worthy of you."
"Hey! If you think you're putting some freakin' Goa'uld in here, think again!" the man said, his eyes widening.
"Interesting," Anubis said. "It appears that I have found a weakness, Tauri."
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Now Jack really wished he'd listened to Arislet and kept his big mouth shut for once. I can't become a fuckin' Goa'uld, he told her when they were back in their cell. I'll die first.
You must hang on, Arislet told him. Surely you want to see your wife and daughter again?
Wife and daughter. Jack smiled, despite the pain this caused his poorly healed jaw. Yeah, he admitted, but that's not likely to happen. Either I get turned into a snake or he'll kill me. I can't see it going down any other way. He didn't even pause to consider that him being taken as a host would necessitate Arislet's death.
A curse on you, Jack O'Neill – you will not give up!, Arislet scolded. Promise me that if we fall, at least we make it difficult for him.
You mean, go down fighting? Jack sighed. Yeah, I can promise you that much, he told her.
Stargate Command:
Malia strolled into General Hammond's office. "You wanted to see me, sir?" she inquired, then started as she saw two other people there. Dressed in a similar fashion to Jacob and Jack, she presumed that they were Tok'ra.
"Malia; sit down," the General said gently. "Allow me to present Garshaw and Malek of the Tok'ra."
"Greetings," the female Tok'ra said. "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances. I am here to inform you that Jack O'Neill and Jacob Carter have been captured … by Anubis."
Malia could feel her color drain away. "When?" she whispered, sitting down with a thud.
"We estimate approximately two of your months ago," Malek said now.
"And you've only just come now?" Malia raged. "They could be … anything could've happened by now!"
"We have received intelligence from one of our operatives that they are being held on a planet you know as Langara," Garshaw said.
"Langara … Jonas' planet," she said. She glared at the impassive Tok'ra, then turned to General Hammond. "Permission to 'gate to Langara, sir!" she snapped.
"Denied, Sub-Commandant," Hammond said. "We will send an extraction team, but you will not be on it. You're too close to the situation. I'll send SG-2; Jonas' knowledge of the planet will be invaluable." He stared at the Tok'ra. "I'd like to know why you haven't extracted Jack and Jacob yourselves."
"If we go in, we risk exposing our inside operative," Garshaw said. "It would undo many years of hard work. We had already considered Selmak and Arislet fallen war heroes."
"Well, we're not quite ready to bury them," Hammond replied. "We don't leave people behind." He touched Malia's shaking hands gently. "I'm taking your team and SG-1 off duty for a week – go home. We'll contact you when we have news."
Malia stood up, desperately fighting the need to bury her head in the kindly older man's shoulder and cry her eyes out. "Yes, sir," she said.
She left his office and headed to the women's locker room, her head whirling. Two months. While she'd been 'gating to various planets and having the time of her life, he'd been going through … what? Torture? "Oh, gods …," she muttered, lurching toward the wash basin and shaking as her stomach evacuated.
"Malia?" The door opened and the petite form of Janet Fraiser came in. "I just heard," she said, rubbing a hand on her back. "I'm so sorry, honey."
Malia gulped down some water. "Hammond won't let me on the team," she said. "Instead, I have to wait helplessly." Her stomach lurched again and she retched helplessly until she was dry heaving.
"How long have you been feeling sick?" Janet asked.
"A couple of days," Malia said.
"And have you missed any cycles?"
"Oh, gods … I did miss last month," Malia said, "but I thought it was due to that food poisoning I got on 371."
"It could be, but I'd like to do a pregnancy test just in case," Janet said.
Pain. Knives. Acid. Taser. Zat. Pain. Even with Arislet helping him, Jack knew that he was getting weaker. "You seem determined to make this difficult for yourself, Tauri," Anubis taunted.
Jack managed a shrug. "Well, I can only die once," he said.
Anubis chuckled, and Jack's skin crawled. "Have you heard of a sarcophagus, O'Neill?"
Crap. He remembered when Daniel had become addicted to one when he'd met that princess … Shyla. It had turned the normally gentle archeologist into a power-mad angry dictator. "Yeah," he admitted. "You got one, don't you?"
"Yes. So, I can kill you and revive you. As many times as I need. Eventually … you will tell me what I need to know so that you can die for the final time."
"Fuck you, snake-head," Jack spat. The First Prime delivered a crashing blow to his back with the staff and Jack collapsed. "And fuck you too, chuckles," he grunted.
"Jaffa!" Anubis barked, holding up his hand. "There may be some advantage to not killing this one," he declared. "He has spirit."
The Jaffa bowed his head obsequiously. "As you wish, My Lord," he said, glaring at Jack before stepping back a couple paces.
Stargate Command:
"Close the iris!" Major Griff shouted, leaping onto the ramp.
As the iris slammed closed, Malia dashed into the embarkation room. "Michael?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Malia," he said. "Bum intel – we barely got our asses out alive."
"I got something else, Major," Jonas Quinn – the Langaran member of SG-2 – said. He held out a small spherical device.
"What the hell …?" Griff muttered.
"It's a Goa'uld communication device," Malia said. "Then they were on the planet at some point?" Her stomach lurched, but she was determined that she wasn't going to be sick again. She'd already vomited twice that morning – this pregnancy was proving difficult, due to the stress of Jack being missing and the slight differences in their physiology. "Can we use this to track Anubis?"
"Unfortunately, we don't have that capability yet," Griff said. "We're not as far ahead as you and the Goa'uld."
Malia didn't understand her world's technology either – she was no scientist. "I'll see if I can contact Belrina," she said. "We haven't had much to do with the Goa'uld, but our scientists might be able to do something with this." She aimed a shadow of a smile at Jonas. "Thank you for this," she said.
"You're welcome," Jonas said, giving her a friendly smile; he reminded her somewhat of a puppy, the way he went headlong at everything. "I just wish we could have found them."
"Me too, Jonas," she murmured. She headed back out of the embarkation room, putting her hand on her still-flat stomach. "Where are you, Jack?" she whispered. "We need you."
Jack opened his eyes to a glaring light. Fuck. How many times had he been killed now? He lurched out of the sarcophagus as Anubis' First Prime stalked over to him. "Get the fuck away from me, you bastard!" he said.
"Jack …," the Jaffa said, extending a hand toward him.
"I mean it; I'll nail your head to that fucking table and set fire to it!"
"Jack …," the First Prime said.
Jack swung a fist into the other man's jaw. "You … don't … fuckin' … call me Jack, you son of a bitch!" he shouted. "Where's Jacob – what did you do to him?"
"We must sedate him again," a new voice said.
Jack whirled around and snatched the Jaffa's staff, pointing it at his captors. "Now … tell me where the hell Jacob is. Then you're letting us go. Otherwise, your 'lord' is about to buy it."
"Colonel O'Neill! Up and at 'em, Airman!" the newcomer barked.
Jack automatically came to parade attention. "Sir!" he snapped then felt something prick his skin. "You fuckers," he muttered, feeling himself slide toward oblivion once more.
Jacob Carter exchanged worried glances with his fellow Tok'ra. "Can we do anything for him?" he said.
"He has been through the sarcophagus many times," Anise said. "You got his body back; his mind may be lost to us. Had Arislet not been killed, it would be a different matter."
"Yeah." Jacob swept a hand through his sadly thinning hair. It had been over a month since Anise and Kelmaa had rescued them from Anubis' mothership. Jack had remained unconscious for the first two weeks, but every day since he'd regained consciousness that first time had proceeded the same. The younger man firmly believed that he'd been killed again and that he was still on the mothership.
Jacob had seen the man at some low points – when they had been tortured on Netu years ago – but had never seen him like this. He'd never thought anything could break the stubborn, infuriating, cocky Colonel.
"We can't keep sedating him, Jacob," Freya – Anise's host – now said. "Perhaps if we slowly reduce the dosage … We certainly can't risk restraining him again."
No. Jacob still sported a beautiful shiner from when they'd attempted to restrain Jack. He'd panicked completely, snapping free of the restraints and beating anything that stood in his path. Jacob Carter – former two star General – had investigated Jack shortly after meeting him in DC, and had learned that he'd been held prisoner for four months in Iraq. Was that what had driven him, or was it something else? There'd been significant gaps in Jack's file, some so highly classified that they were for the CIC's eyes only – that screamed 'Black Ops' to Jacob.
Jack's eyelids flickered open. "I'm not tellin' you anythin', you bastards," he said hoarsely. "You may as well give it up and kill me – I'll die before I say anything."
"Nah," Jacob said. "You're too annoying to die."
The younger man – his face pale and his frame gaunt after the months of torture he'd suffered – looked over at him. "Jacob?" he whispered. "But … you're dead. I saw that bastard snake take you down."
"Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," Jacob said. "We need to get you to the infirmary."
Jack backed away into a corner, hugging his arms around himself protectively. "No!" he said, his eyes becoming wild. "Another fucking snake-head trick!" He grabbed suddenly at Anise and tightened his arm around her neck. "Get the fuck away from me, or I'll kill her!" Then his eyes glazed over as the sedative took full effect. "Bastards …," he mumbled.
"What about the Asgard?" Anise said hoarsely, rubbing at her neck. "They are very fond of Jack – would they not help him?"
"Yeah, maybe," Jacob said, "but we've got now way of contacting them. Maybe George can help us there." He closed his eyes and let Selmak take control. "Kelmaa, Malek; please take care of Jack," she said then headed to the peltak to talk to General Hammond.
Stargate Command:
"I understand, Jacob," Genral Hammond said. "I'll do what I can, but the Asgard haven't been very reliable lately."
"Yeah; thanks George," the ex-General replied. "I'd better go; this isn't exactly a secure system. We'll head for Vorash, then 'gate to Earth. We should be there in a couple days."
"See you then, Jacob," Hammond said. He sighed as the communication fizzed out then looked at Sergeant Harriman. "Get Sub-Commandant Malia up here," he added.
"Yes, sir," the Sergeant replied.
Five minutes later, Jack's wife appeared with a speed that belied that she was actually five months pregnant. Her height ensured that she could carry a little extra weight easily, and no-one would know it just to look at her. She still traveled off world, but only 'gated to known friendlies now. "You wanted to see me, sir?" she inquired, her face paling.
"I've just heard from Jacob Carter," he said. "They were rescued about a month ago …"
"Oh, thank gods," Malia muttered. "When is he coming home?"
"Malia." He put a gentle hand to her shoulder. "They got his body back, but his mind … Jacob says that Arislet was killed shortly before the rescue. Jack still thinks he's a prisoner."
"He needs to come home," Malia said, gripping at his shirt. "Please, General … If we can't help him, maybe the Asgard can. He …" – she blinked back tears – "He once said Thor loved him."
"They'll be here in a couple of days, Malia," Hammond said, "but you'll have to be prepared for the fact that Jack won't recognize you. He'll likely be violent."
"I … I understand, General. Just bring him home."
"We will, Malia. We will."
One way or another, Jack O'Neill would come home.