See You Space Cowboy
Part 6
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'They got a million souls at the lost and found
Well you should have known better
Dead thoughts and lost horizons
And to take it further
It don't get any better'
Interstate, The Refreshments
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Jack slowly regained consciousness with a splitting headache and more than a little disappointment. He should be nonexistent by now, a nuke zapping his soul to oblivion. He lay there a while trying to ignore his nausea. When he was able to concentrate on something other than his roiling stomach and throbbing head, he realized that his arms were stretched above his head and restrained by handcuffs.
Crap.
This wasn't the first time he'd woken up like this and it never was a good thing. He slowly opened his eyes, thankful the room was only softly lit by a single lamp. Jack took in his surroundings and realized he was in a comfortably furnished bedroom handcuffed to the bed. He lifted his head enough to see he still had his clothes on, which was a plus he supposed.
His head sank back into the soft pillow and tried to figure out how he ended up in this position. He was in Kazakhstan drinking his last drink. He was interrupted- Natasha! Damn it! She tranqued him. He'd forgotten about those damn bracelets of hers.
"Natasha! Get your ass in here! Tasha!"
The door opened and Natasha walked graceful in. "You bellowed?" she asked stopping far enough from the bed that he wouldn't be able to attack her with his feet and legs. She crossed her arms over her chest, the gold tubes surrounding her forearms glittered coldly in the lamplight contrasting with her soft black sweater.
"You want to get these things off me?" Jack asked pulling on the cuffs encasing his wrists.
"No."
He tugged on his restraints again. He hated being tied up, bad things always seemed to happen. The Natasha Romanova he once knew wouldn't have harmed him. That was years ago and he was sure she had changed as much as he had. He couldn't be sure now. So he tried to cover his unease as he always did. "So, Tasha, I guess I should have figured you'd be into this sort of thing with that leather cat suit you used to wear. When do we get started?" he tried to leer convincingly at her.
There was a distinct unladylike snort from the red head and a small smile tugged at her lips. "You wish." Her green eyes ran quickly over him appraising his state. "If I release you, will you behave?"
"Or what, you'll punish me?"
"I've forgotten what a ass you can be."
"Are you going to let me up or are am I going to have to be even more obnoxious?"
"Are you not going to attack me and try to escape?"
"Tasha, I'm not even sure I can walk in my present state. But until I get rid of this hangover and figure out what's going on here I promise not to attack you and try to escape."
"Fair enough." Natasha walked closer to the bed and then reached over and unlocked his cuffs.
Jack just lay there rubbing his wrists for a moment and trying to shake some blood back into his numb arms. "How long was I out?"
"About 12 hours."
"Your 'widow's bite'?" he asked glancing at the tubular gold cuffs at her wrists.
"Yes."
He slowly sat up willing the nausea away.
Natasha nodded toward a door of to the side. "Bathroom's in there. You can take a shower and I'll put some coffee on."
"Thanks."
Natasha left. Jack slowly rose to his feet and staggered to the bathroom. There he found a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water. He gratefully downed a couple of pills and turned on the shower. While he waited for the water to heat, he sat down on the lid of the toilet not really wanting to sort through the conflicting emotions and questions rolling around in his head.
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Jack walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. On the bed he had formerly been tied to, he found the clothes that had previously been tossed into his duffle bag stacked neatly on the bed, freshly laundered. He pulled on a pair of boxers and dark denim jeans. He sat on the edge of the bed to roll his baggy jeans into cuffs at the bottom and put on a pair of socks. He got up and surveyed what little currently existed of his wardrobe. He'd packed rather quickly and not really for the cold weather.
Well, he assumed he was still in a place where it was winter. He walked over to the window and opened the blinds. He was in a room a couple stories up and it was definitely snowing out, not heavily though. The flakes gently fluttered to the snow covered grounded and salted roads. It looked as though he was definitely in a city, but of indeterminate size. It was an older section of town though. It had been at least ten years since he was in this part of the world so he couldn't even really speculate where he was.
He moved back to the bed and picked up a black t-shirt. Over it he put on one of the two long sleeved shirts he had, a Black Watch plaid button down. Jack looked around for his boots but didn't see them. He supposed Natasha thought he wouldn't try to run away though the snow in his stocking feet.
Feeling a little more human now, Jack opened the bedroom door and followed the scent of coffee to a comfortable living room. A silver coffee service sat on the table in front of a plush burgundy couch. Natasha was sitting in a matching chair near the cheery fire. She set down her cup on the table beside her and moved to pour him a cup.
Jack settled on the couch and grateful accepted the coffee and plate off dry toast, which was probably all he could keep down anyway. Natasha went back to her chair, pulling her feet under her, and silently watched as he sipped his coffee and nibbled his toast.
Finally Jack set his plate down on the coffee table. He leaned back in to the cushions of the couch, cradling the fine china cup in his hands. He met Natasha's calm green eyes and asked, "Where are we?"
"St. Petersburg."
"I haven't been here before the end of the Cold War."
"It's changed a lot since then, though many things stay the same. I have tickets for the ballet tomorrow night if you'd like to go."
Jack smiled slightly remembering the first time he'd met her was at the ballet in St. Petersburg nearly twenty years ago. He was supposed to meet a contact, but had ended up 'rescuing' a lady he thought she was being accosted. He had blown both their covers and they were forced to team up to evade capture and complete their objectives, which luckily had been complimentary.
"What it is it? You know I'm not fond of those socialist ballets."
"It's Swan Lake."
"Ah, well, Tchaikovsky. Can't go wrong with that. I suppose if I get to listen to that, I can watch some pretty girls flop around on stage."
"They don't flop," she laughed. "At least they'd better not. They're supposed to be the premier troupe in the country."
"Well, that would be lovely. Not that I have a choice," he told her loosing the teasing tone in his voice.
"You're not a prisoner, Jack."
"What am I?"
"My guest for as long as you want."
"Why did you bring me here? Why didn't you let me die?"
"It would have been a ridiculous waste," Natasha scoffed. "Why do you want to die?"
"I'm tired." He stared down into the dark depths of his cooling coffee. "I'm… I'm tired of being alone."
"You don't have to be."
"Everyone I have ever cared about has been hurt because of me."
She sighed heavily in realization, "You left because your team was threatened."
He nodded still not looking at her. "They're my family. They're all I have. Or had. I won't have them hurt because someone is out to get me."
"So you'll just take yourself out of the picture? Is that it?"
Jack shrugged uncomfortably.
"You don't think your death wouldn't cause your friends pain, especially if it was by your own hand?" He wouldn't meet her eyes. "You're a selfish bastard, Jack." He looked up suddenly angry, but she continued, "They would never forgive themselves if you died because of them, but all you can even think about is wallowing in your own pain. You're not the only person to have been hurt by life and lost what you cared about most. I would have been dead a long time ago if I gave in like you are."
"What do you expect me to do?" he demanded. "I can't take down the whole NID and a United States senator on my own. I'm good, but not quite that good. And I have no doubt that if I tried to make a move on them my friends would suffer."
"I could get you through our Stargate. You could continue the fight with the Tok'ra-"
"I'm not living with those arrogant snaky bastards."
"You could contact the Asgard," she suggested. "You are their favorite human. Surely they would offer you sanctuary."
"Thor's my buddy and all but I don't know if I could permanently hang with him and his little grey pals. I doubt they have beer."
"Just go where you will then. There are planets the SGC visit regularly. You can get word to SG-1. Think about."
He nodded reluctantly. "I will."
