Disclaimer
If this were mine, we'd have seen a lot more Ba'al.
Part Four
Jack paced his office, waiting for any word. There hadn't been a peep since Carter and Ba'al had disappeared the day before. Some were arguing that it was a Goa'uld plot but – for once – he was pretty sure that wasn't the case. This just reeked of NID involvement.
Daniel walked in, doing his best to seem upbeat. "Anything?"
Jack shook his head. "Not yet."
"I thought you were haunting the General's office."
Jack shrugged. "He kicked me out about an hour ago. Told me that he'd let me know. They haven't even found the car."
They both turned as Hammond's voice sounded from the door. "Yes, they have. It's about thirty miles from here. The airman accompanying them was found dead inside."
Jack stared at him. "General..."
"Go."
Neither he nor Sam had put up too much of a fight at being removed from the cage. After all, they wanted out. If they were outside of the cage, there was a greater possibility of escape.
Unfortunately, their captors were extremely cautious. They'd sedated Ba'al before removing him. They didn't seem ashamed to admit that his physical strength worried them. Sam was in no condition to fight, and they apparently knew it. That knowledge hadn't stopped them from keeping weapons pointed at her at all times, however.
He'd woken up secured to a tilted metal table, head up, with his body at what he estimated was a thirty degree angle to the floor. He had a near perfect view of Sam. She was strapped down to a similar surface and they'd cut the clothing off of her. He could see the shreds of fabric and leather on the ground nearby.
He tugged at his bindings, noting that they were steel shackles and too strong for him to break. He might be able to pull the chains, if there was a weakened link. "Did I miss anything exciting?"
"Oh, just your usual death threats and promises of rewarding cooperation."
"Standard fare, then." He tried a sharp, hard pull on the chain and then a consistent pressure. There was no give in it. "I wonder where they buy their supplies. These are good quality."
She blinked at him. "That's the only thing you have to say?"
"What else is there? Do you see an avenue of escape that I've overlooked?"
She glanced around, tried her own bonds (again), then wiggled a bit to see if she could get the table to move. "Not yet."
"Then they've done their job well. I can appreciate that even if I don't approve of the application."
She shot him a glare. "You're trying to distract me."
"Thinking about what will happen won't help." He shifted position a bit, trying to find a more comfortable position. He felt it prudent not to mention that she should be grateful her legs were bound together instead of separated. At the present time, it appeared rape wasn't in the cards.
He didn't want her to panic. Panicked help was as useful as no help. How did humans offer comfort? "Your friends will come for you."
"They'll come for you, too."
"I sincerely doubt your Colonel would do more than shrug if I were to die a slow, torturous death. I am a Goa'uld. He despises us." He sighed. The symbiote was laboring to keep him warm. It may be daytime, but it was still chilly. That it had been working so hard to do so the night before wasn't helping. He'd exhaust his reserves soon, if he wasn't fed and given proper rest. "I can't honestly say that I blame him. My kind have been remarkably cruel to him."
"Generalizations about a species doesn't equal knowledge of an individual. You're not like the others."
He snorted. "I am cruel and vicious, manipulative and cunning. I see little to no difference." At her silence, he continued. "Just because thinking of others is something I see as being in my own best interests... It does not make me what you humans would term 'a good man.'"
"You gave me your pants last night."
"Mm. And? Escape is easier with a partner. Also, I doubt that the remainder of SG-1 would be understanding were I not to do everything in my power to keep you alive. I like my ship and your friends do have a habit of blowing them up when they're angry."
Sam's laughter echoed morbid amusement. "You're justifying."
He paused, frowning, then decided to try the humorous approach. "I don't believe so but, if I am, then that is my right as a God."
She snorted, but didn't otherwise respond to the jokingly arrogant statement. "You blew up two solar systems in your dispute with Sokar."
"Yes."
"Why?"
He gave as much of a shrug as his bonds would allow. "It was efficient. I showed that I was willing to do anything to defeat him, thus I frightened him into submission. I lost fewer resources during that event than I would have if we had continued our contest over centuries."
"You mean fewer humans."
"Humans, food, mines... Those two planets were, frankly, the cheaper option."
"How many died?"
"Sixty million, give or take." His voice was deliberately casual. "Plus the crews of four ha'taks. As I had already evacuated most of the ships' crews... I'd estimate an additional two or three hundred."
She narrowed her eyes at the ceiling. "How many would have died?"
He lifted his head for a better look at her face and quirked an eyebrow. "The projection was potentially hundreds of millions, depending on the duration. Plus there would be other lost resources due to planetary bombardments. That doesn't include the numbers for Sokar's domain, of course."
"It's not the course of action I would have taken, but..." She sighed. "I can see the practicality. You're not doing a very good job of convincing me that you're a monster."
"I am a monster, Samantha." He let out a humorless chuckle. "I'm an alien and, therefore, not natural to your world. Inside this body are two separate minds. We might co-operate and agree on most things, but we're still monsters to your people. Perhaps more so, since our minds were in perfect agreement on the loss of life in those two systems. What is the term? Psychopath? Sociopath?"
"I'd say 'triage.' I'd like to think that there might have been another way, but I can see where you thought it was necessary." She ignored the alien argument completely. It wasn't anything she hadn't thought to herself but, at the same time, she was starting to understand that 'alien' might just mean a different point of view.
"You think far too highly of me. I'm sorry to say that I'll probably disappoint you."
"It's possible. But most people disappoint each other at one time or another..." She was cut off by the approach of their captors. One was wheeling in a small cart with various instruments. They reminded Sam of Janet Fraiser's surgical set. Behind him, a second man pushed one bearing food... hot, delicious smelling food. Neither of them could resist sucking in a bit more air in order to savor the scent.
The men left and Ba'al smiled wryly. More classic interrogation tactics - leaving them to contemplate the rewards and punishments. So quickly on the heels of their cold night, starved, and feeling desperately vulnerable without their clothes... It was a good strategy. He was actually tempted. "What time would you say it is?"
Sam ignored the grumbling in her stomach. "Noon?"
He closed his eyes. "Try to sleep. You need the rest and I have no doubt that they'll leave us be for another hour or so."
Jack glared at the local policeman. "So, summary: You're telling me that the car was found, half submerged in a river, on a road that they wouldn't have taken?"
"Yes, sir."
"Show me."
The man picked up the knife and moved towards Sam. Even though his eyes were locked with hers, his next words were meant for Ba'al. "You're going to tell me everything I want to know."
"Seeing as that would make us both redundant... I'll have to disappoint you."
It didn't take long for the screaming to start.
Jack's phone rang and he snapped it open. "Yes?" A few minutes later he tucked it in his pocket. He turned to Daniel. "It seems our 'diplomat' is NID and has some suspicious deposits in his bank account. They're picking up his contact now."
"Do we know where they are?"
"Not yet."
"What will it take to get you to talk, I wonder?"
The pain abated somewhat and Sam stared across at Ba'al. He was eying their captor with a bland expression. Her voice was raspy from dehydration and screaming, but she managed to speak. "Ba'al, don't say... a word..."
He glanced her way for a moment, then quickly returned his gaze to their torturer. "I have no intention of telling him anything, Samantha. Though, when I am out of these shackles, he had best pray that I have better things to do than deal with him."
From his tone, he could have been discussing the weather. Sam wasn't surprised to see their torturer shiver. The delivery was chilling, and left her suddenly more likely to believe his claim of being a psychopath.
Jack wanted to bang his head against a wall. The car had been a dead end. The NID contact had led them to another contact, and then another. While they were cleaning out a large portion of them, at this rate they'd never find Sam and Ba'al. He blinked. When did I start worrying about a Goa'uld?
Sam huddled as best she could in the single blanket they'd tossed into the cage. Ba'al was unconscious next to her, having been drugged again before they moved him. The rough gray wool scratched at the various cuts on her torso, and she couldn't stop shivering. It was going to be a bad night. They'd at least provided two buckets – one with water and an empty one to keep the mess down in the cage.
Ba'al's eyes blinked open, but he was still groggy. His symbiote was having difficulty processing the drug. "Samantha?"
"I'm here." He lifted his arm and she snuggled into him. She took care to wrap the blanket around them both. "How do you know so much about Earth?"
"Your turn to distract me?"
"Just answer the question." Her voice wavered slightly. His arms tightened around her and she buried her face in his neck.
"I may have settled just outside of your planet's viewing range and listened into your radio waves every now and then." The hand on her back was gently rubbing. She sighed at the pleasant warmth the friction was causing.
"Why?"
"I was curious." He lifted her and settled her across his lap. The floor was almost radiating cold. He didn't want the little heat her body was capable of generating to be lost. "Also, your people banished us. Even before you opened the Stargate again, I found it prudent to keep an eye on you." Humor laced his tone. "You're dangerous."
She made no reply. He glanced down at her slack face, then leaned his head back against the bars with a chuckle. "There's a beautiful, naked woman in my arms. I'm doing my best to entertain her and she falls asleep. I'm mildly insulted."
Jack was still awake when dawn broke. He hadn't been able to sleep. From their appearance, Daniel and Teal'c hadn't gotten much rest, either. "Any word?"
"Not yet."
They were finally fed just after dawn. It wasn't much, a couple of power bars, but it indicated that they weren't going to be killed as of yet. Ba'al was leaning against the wall of the cage, trying not to show his worry. His symbiote needed more food than this.
Blood. Pain. Screams. Threats. Starvation. Cold.
Sleep.
Wake.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat...
Finally. They finally had a solid lead. It took five days, but the warehouse was now surrounded by various SG teams and their ever-helpful support troops. Jack hoped they were in time. He growled. If they weren't...
He blinked blurred, gritty eyes open. A smudge of pink floated in his field of vision. It slowly resolved into a passably pretty redhead. She was leaning over him. "I'm Doctor Janet Fraiser. You're in the infirmary at Stargate Command. How are you feeling?"
"Do you always annoy your patients with foolish questions?" He winced as he tried to sit up to sip the water she brought him. His spine ached from days spent in a half-sitting position. Bruises and wounds that his symbiote should have healed already littered his chest and arms. Wires, connected to bits of tape, stretched from his heart, forehead, and the back of his neck. "Samantha?"
The doctor gestured to his left and he carefully turned his head. She was lying on the next bed over, still unconscious. "Major Carter is... We're working on it."
Fraiser adjusted his bed so that it was supporting him better. He wasn't particularly pleased with her evasive response, but chose to let it slide for the moment. "Our captors?"
"Have become captives." He looked up to see O'Neill standing in the doorway. "They're also singing rather nicely for their supper."
"I imagine you would object if I were to offer to interrogate them for you."
"Ah, yeah... We're not really that big on letting people be tortured."
As that had been his intent, Ba'al didn't even try to argue the assumption. "I would like to return to my ship. The healing powers of the sarcophagus will easily rectify any damage to my body." And, hopefully, heal my symbiote so that he can speak to me again... Can you hear me?
Janet frowned. "I'm not sure I should clear you for travel, as of yet."
He looked at her, pushing aside his internal despair. "Send both Major Carter and myself. The device should repair any issues that she is experiencing. If it would sway your decision, you may join us as well."
The doctor looked very tempted. "Stay here tonight. We'll revisit it tomorrow."
Ba'al was willing to do many things. Arguing with a healer – especially one that was supposedly trying to tend to his health – wasn't one of them. He knew first-hand that they could be vindictive when foolishly riled. "Very well." He turned to Jack. "In that case, please contact my ship and have them send Namzu with a healing device. If nothing else, he should be able to assist with Major Carter's recovery."
Getting the healer to come wasn't an issue. He arrived within the hour. However, the lithe Goa'uld was less than pleased when his master gestured for him to start with the Tau'ri female. A quiet rebuke from Ba'al had him quickly obeying, but Jack couldn't help but worry a bit about his professional ethics. A scribbled note from Daniel, translating the admonition, eased his mind only a little.
Obey me. You owe your Lord's life to this woman, and I will be most displeased if she dies.
Jack wasn't sure what Carter had done to save his life. Hammond was understandably careful when pressing Ba'al for details. Not that Ba'al was willing to share much, he was remarkably tight-lipped about the experience. Jack could sympathize, but...
The increasing desperation lurking behind those eyes worried him.
Ba'al stared at the ceiling of the darkened infirmary. Two good meals and his bruises were fading. The three ribs that the NID had broken were almost completely knitted together. His mangled left hand only held a slight residual ache when he flexed it. It was a good sign, but his symbiote still didn't speak. He couldn't even pick up the occasional stray thought.
Against his will, a memory floated to the surface...
Whisper-thin needles sliding into the back of his neck. The jerk of his muscles when electrical current was applied. The porcine smell of smoking human flesh. Inhuman screams echoing through his mind. Painful thrashing motions beneath his skin and against his spine, as the symbiote tried desperately to limit the reaction to its lower body. If it writhed in his skull it stood a good chance of killing him...
He swallowed heavily and gingerly reached up to caress the slight ridge where the symbiote rested. It was still there, but... No answer, no motion. The monitor reading his heart beeped alarmingly, and he forced his mind away from that path before the doctors came to check on him. He had no desire to be forced to sleep.
He'd already been sedated too many times this week.
Casting about for anything, he turned his head to stare at where Sam rested. Five days. Most of the time had been spent torturing her. She'd deliberately tried to keep their attention, even when she needed the rest and a chance to recover. She was magnificent... She was...
He swallowed again as his heart monitor beeped.
Come morning, he was prepared to fight with the doctor. When she approached, looking disturbingly cheerful, he took a deep breath. "We need to access the sarcophagus."
"All right."
"I understand if... Ah, of course you'd see it my way. You are a sensible woman."
Her eyes were worried, though she smiled a bit at him. "You know your physiology better than I do. If you say that you need the device to speed your healing then I'm going to have to trust you on it. I've already cleared it with the General." Her gaze shifted to Sam's bed. "Major Carter still hasn't woken. I don't suppose you have two of them."
"I do." He gave her his best superior smirk. "It would be foolish to assume that one would never need repairs or maintenance and might be offline when required. I would be delighted to offer the use of one to the Major in this instance."
Janet rolled her eyes, clearly not buying his apparent detachment. "Of course you would."
A bit less than five minutes after they arrived at his ship, Ba'al and Sam were ensconced in separate sarcophagi. Janet cast about for something to do, but she had no clue how the devices worked. She couldn't even monitor their progress. As a result, she was pacing next to the one containing Sam ten minutes after they arrived.
She glanced up when she heard a throat clear. It was the other Goa'uld... Nambu? Nansu? She couldn't remember. She'd been too worried about her patients when they were introduced. "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name."
The male nodded. "It is understandable. You focus on your patients, as is the way of a healer. I am Namzu."
She gave a sheepish smile. "Well, I was close."
He returned it, clearly amused. "Indeed. Would you like me to teach you how to observe the process?"
"Please?"
He spent the first twenty minutes explaining the basic functions and how human systems were altered on a microscopic level. The rest of the first hour involved basic navigation of the screens and how life signs were depicted. Janet had never seen anything like it. With the proper interface, they could observe the firing of individual nerve clusters.
All of that was overshadowed by the conclusions he drew from the data. Carter had been all but brain-dead. The sarcophagus was having to not only repair her, but essentially restore her life. It was a long procedure and – due to her starved state – required them to add nutrients to the machine at regular intervals. On one hand, Janet was relieved that he seemed to anticipate full recovery. On the other, he provided a disturbingly clear picture of what damage was caused and when.
Janet had a vivid imagination and wasn't looking forward to her own nightmares.
Eight hours after he entered his sarcophagus, Ba'al emerged in a much better mood. He could once again hear his symbiote. Apparently, the trauma of electrocution had done more than a bit of damage to its ability to communicate. Still, it was repaired and they were both delighted to be able to commune with one another.
He quickly bathed and dressed. He was desperate to get the fear sweat off of his body. No matter how lovely the nurse, sponge bathing in the infirmary did not suffice. He didn't linger – in spite of the overwhelming desire to just relax – since he wanted to check on Sam. Fifteen minutes later he was in something a little more stylish than the SGC's idea of acceptable convalescent wear and on his way.
He strode into the secondary healing chamber to find Namzu and Fraiser pouring over some data. His healer noticed him first. "My Lord."
He acknowledged the greeting. "Namzu. How does she fare?"
"The process is slow, my Lord. The damage was extensive."
Ba'al frowned and gestured for the apologetic Goa'uld to step away from the console. He browsed the information and shot Janet a look before returning to the screen. "It will be at least another twelve hours. It may possibly take much as two more days. Have you eaten or rested since you arrived?"
"No... um... How do I address you?"
"I understand that your peoples' diplomatic protocol does permit you to call me 'My Lord.' If that is unacceptable, you may simply call me Ba'al. You did serve briefly as my personal healer, so it is not a breach of etiquette... even if Namzu does choose to ignore that privilege." He tried to be amused, but failed. She seemed fooled by the act, at least.
His eyes were almost magnetically drawn to what was displayed. The nerve clusters in Sam's brain were of particular concern. Their captors' idea of electro-play had caused a significant number of problems. "Namzu, escort Doctor Fraiser to rest and eat. She achieves nothing by exhausting herself."
"Yes, my Lord."
Janet wanted to argue but food was just too much of a temptation.
At the end of the first day, the remaining members of SG-1 were granted permission to return to Ba'al's hat'ak. The Goa'uld didn't mind the intrusion. Honestly, their unconscious demands for attention and reassurance actually made the wait a bit easier. He wasn't sure how he'd wound up arguing with O'Neill in regards to whether ships truly needed names, but it had made over an hour pass without notice. He still flatly refused to dub his vessel the Jack O'Neill or the Bart Simpson.
The Samantha Carter had a nice ring to it, though.
At the end of the second day, they were all settled in the secondary healing room. Namzu slipped in and out with some regularity, both to check on the patient and to add nutrients. He still had other duties to attend to. The Jaffa wouldn't stop training simply because a guest was being healed.
Daniel was pouring over his database again. He paused now and then to read something to Jack. The Colonel would pretend some varying degree of disinterest. Ba'al saw what he wasn't saying. He wanted an overview of the information, but was trying to avoid being bombarded by facts and figures he didn't need. Host and symbiote could both sympathize.
Teal'c was meditating in the far corner. Ba'al envied him the ability to simply shut his mind down and regain his center. He'd never managed to achieve it. Possibly, the symbiote reminded him, because their 'center' was skewed by their collective consciousness. He conceded the point without rancor and dismissed the jealousy as unproductive.
He was doing his best to concentrate on the reports sent in by various scout vessels around his territory. It wasn't incredibly interesting reading, and he frequently found his gaze wandering to the display that he'd ordered set up to one side. It was constantly refreshed with information on Sam's state, and a counter at the bottom displayed the estimated time of procedure completion.
Janet was almost obsessively observing it and making notes on the data pad she had requested. She noticed him staring at her and gave a tight smile. "Only a few more minutes."
"Indeed."
"What can we expect when she wakes up?" The question seemed to get everyone's attention, with the exception of Teal'c. Ba'al wasn't surprised. The Jaffa had no doubt seen this many times.
Nonetheless, he put his best into answering. "There are subtle differences between people and the location of the injuries can vary it further. In this instance, I would say disorientation. She will probably suffer a lack of coordination for the first few hours and a small amount of potentially permanent memory loss due to the physical trauma to the brain."
"Permanent? How bad? I thought this machine was some sort of miracle cure."
He turned to Jack, the question cutting into his own mind with sharp claws. "It is as advanced as we have, Colonel. The amnesia? It is possibly permanent. It depends on what areas were damaged and how well it was repaired. I don't anticipate an extensive amount of time lost, as her neural tissues were not even approaching necrotic when we began. Therefore, the initial degradation was minor. Her physical grace should return by tomorrow morning."
"Necrotic? Neural tissue? Rotting in her head?"
"She was suffering from severe hypothermia, blood loss, cranial trauma, eighteen broken bones, electrocution burns... Just be thankful that she will live." Ba'al turned his attention back to the countdown and ignored O'Neill's sputtering. Three. Two. One.
With a click and a rush of air, the sarcophagus shut down and opened. The three members of SG-1 visibly restrained themselves as they were waved away by Fraiser and Namzu. The two healers quickly assessed the still-unconscious Major and compared notes. She stirred and Janet started calling out to her. "Major Carter? Sam?..."
They watched with fearful anticipation as Namzu and Janet helped Sam lift herself out of the sarcophagus and sit on the edge. She kept shaking her head and looking around the room as if she expected it to change in front of her. Janet asked a question that Sam ignored. Janet tried again, to similar result.
Namzu glanced at his fellow healer. "Let her be for a few moments. The disorientation is making it difficult for her to process."
Sam raised her eyes to the Goa'uld holding her right arm and frowned, then her unsteady gaze searched the room. "Ba'al?"
"I am here." He walked over and his healer gave way to his Lord. He kept his sentences simple at first, to make them easier for her to follow. "You are on my ha'tak. You are safe. Do you understand?" She nodded slowly. He glanced at Janet and repeated her earlier question. "What is the last thing you remember?"
She lightly touched her forehead, eyes closed. "We were being tortured. You'd threatened them. I think... They were electrocuting your symbiote." She snapped her head up to meet his eyes. "Are you both all right?"
He smiled, just slightly. "We are fine." He ignored both Fraiser and Namzu muttering about tests and physicals. Instead, he took her hands in his. "Grasp my hands as hard as you can."
He immediately had both medic's attention back on his actions. They watched as he walked her through basic cognitive tests. It was amusing to watch him, as he skipped simple math and went straight to calculus. Several times, she corrected him even as he spoke. All the while, he was getting her to bend her limbs this way and that as he tested physical response. At one point, he had her actually giggling: he'd asked her to diagnose a theoretical issue with the ships computer – the answer was apparently 'user error.'
Janet leaned closer to Namzu. "And you're the ship's medic?"
He smirked. "Who did you think trained me? Our Lord has always had a passion for all branches of knowledge. In our lifespans, we can master many Arts."
"I can see that."
Finally, he turned back to them. "It would appear that Major Carter remembers everything up until our third day of imprisonment. At this point, were I her healer, I would prescribe food and rest. What is your opinion, Doctor Fraiser?"
She pursed her lips. "Well, you're the expert in this method of treatment, but I'd have to agree. Her scans were quite promising."
A quick glance to Namzu had him nodding as well. "Excellent. In the interest of disrupting your recovery as little as possible, I would like to offer your previous accommodations to you for at least the night. They are your for longer than that, of course, should you need or desire."
Sam scrubbed a hand across her eyes. "That sounds good."
O'Neill had insisted on contacting the SGC with an update, but it hadn't taken long. Once everyone had been fed and watered, Ba'al settled into his bed with a sigh. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he hadn't been able to do so since their rescue. Not restfully, at least. He picked up a data pad and tried to finally focus on the reports.
It didn't work. If he'd had a clock in his room, he would have been actively watching the second hand tick by. Instead, he was leaning back against his pillows and staring at the wall when he heard the noise at his door. "Ba'al?"
"You may enter."
She was dressed in a simple, white cotton shift. It was, he knew, something borrowed from one of his crew. The fabric was thick enough to contain body heat when the room was cold, but allowed the skin to breathe in hot weather. He took in her rumpled hair and the smudges under her eyes. Without a word, he lifted his arm.
She shot across the room to settle against him. Sobs wracked her body and he felt her tears against his throat. It took just a little maneuvering to get them both under his silken sheets and lying down, her head on his chest. "You know, the ability to lie down with my legs outstretched... I doubt I shall ever take it for granted again."
She gave a damp chuckle. "I'm sorry that I disturbed you... I just..."
"I know." He brushed fingers through her hair and then rubbed soothing circles on her back. "It is comforting to have you here, as well."
"Safer."
He nodded. "Safer."
Jack was not pleased when he discovered that Carter wasn't in her room, Teal'c's or Daniel's. He spent a few moments deliberating, then questioned Janet. Her guess wasn't something he wanted to hear. "People who survive events like this together seldom want to be separated for long periods at first. It's quite possible that she's with Ba'al."
What was worse, was that she was right. It was one thing to have him as an ally, or to sympathize over shared pain... But, to be bade to enter Ba'al's rooms and find Sam asleep and sprawled on the fully awake Goa'uld? Not good.
Ba'al set his reports aside and held one finger to his lips. His kept his voice low. "How may I help you, Colonel?"
Jack bit back the urge to yell, though his voice was still sharp. "I don't know, tell me why you're in bed with one of my troops?"
Sam murmured and Ba'al paused long enough to be sure she wasn't going to wake. "Quietly please, Colonel. She had difficulty sleeping and came here. I would think that was obvious."
"Well, we need to get her home. She has family, you know." Jack wasn't really sure of that last statement, but he was moderately so. He was fairly sure she'd mentioned a dad... or a brother.
Ba'al gave a reluctant nod. He teased fingers lightly through her hair, gently tugging. "Samantha? You need to wake."
She mumbled something and her arm snaked around his waist as she burrowed in further. The System Lord chuckled lightly. "Come now, Samantha. I doubt you wish to be carried into your base in your underthings."
Jack had the odd feeling that he was intruding on an intimate moment. He didn't like it. "Major Carter!"
Her head jerked up sharply and impacted with Ba'al's nose. The resultant groans were almost enough to make him feel guilty. Almost. "If you're done cavorting, the rest of us would like to get home."
She shot him a glare as she rubbed her head. Ba'al answered before she did. If the two humans were honest, he probably saved her career in that moment. "We were hardly cavorting. Unless sleeping has taken on new levels of licentiousness of which I am not aware."
Sam winced. "Sort of, but not really." She started to get out of the bed then paused, pulling the sheet up higher over her chest. "Um..."
Without having to be asked, and completely unabashed at his own nudity, Ba'al rose gracefully from the bed and retrieved one of his robes. "I hope this will suffice until you reach your rooms, Samantha."
She blushed. "Yes, thank you."
Jack really wanted to glare at the Goa'uld, but he was too busy avoiding the opportunity to view him in full technicolor.
The group met at the Stargate a few hours later. Teal'c was leaning against the nearby wall, seemingly relaxed. Daniel was having a last minute conversation with Sidu. Janet and Namzu were making promises to exchange more information. He was fascinated by the idea of studying Tau'ri healing methods, as Goa'uld healing centered around the Sarcophagi and the hand devices.
Ba'al, waiting to see them off, was chatting quietly with Sam. His eyes were full of concern, though the rest of his face maintained a pleasantly blank expression. Jack fought down the clawing jealousy in his chest. He was not happy that she was so enamored of a Goa'uld. In his opinion, even Sergeant Siler was a better choice.
Ba'al noticed that the entire group had convened and said a few words, promising continuing friendship. Jack tuned him out for the most part. Although, he did note the promise of continuing treaty negotiations at a later date. He also noticed the nervous motions Sam made every time she looked at the Gate.
Ba'al finished his commentary and the group entered the wormhole.
Well... So much for the torture. I tried to make it as non-graphic as possible while still revealing some of what they went through.
I think I'll bring in Jolinar soon. Let's see how the Tok'ra symbiote responds to humans that are actually allied with - and not subservient to - a Goa'uld!... I'm re-writing the next chapter, as it was mostly filler/fluff. That's just not fun, now is it?
And, yes, I've changed the status to officially in-progress. I just keep coming up with ideas. I'll let you know when that changes.