A/N: I don't own Stargate. Or anything to do with it. I just own my little additions. And...I'm not sure there's much to say here. Enjoy and thank you for reviewing previous chapters!

Sam twirled the flower between her fingers, the bright colour in stark contrast to the bland surroundings of the bedroom. Armenia left the abundance of purple-pink petals behind after the final dress fitting. Maybe she thought it'd cheer me up, she mused. Staring a moment longer at it, nose wrinkled, she threw it aside and watched it become coated by the dust on the floor.

"Sam?" When she glanced up, Jack pushed off the door frame and sauntered closer. "What're you up to?"

The uniform she wore rose and fell with her sigh and she gave him a paper thin smile. "Oh, err, nothing," she replied, pulling down the hem of her black t-shirt. It was familiar yet far away.

Now Jack was beside her, resting his hands next to hers on the surface of the dresser, and it wouldn't have taken a genius to know that he wasn't watching anything more than her hands. "Funeral was nice, wasn't it? I mean, as far funerals go..." As the sentence unravelled itself in an ugly mess, he bit his lip.

"Shame they had to bury him the day before the wedding, huh?" she mumbled. Afterwards, she gave a thick swallow that didn't do much to quell the embarrassment on his features.

"I know... But I guess we're supposed to honour their traditions. And, apparently, one of them is that their child burials have to happen the same numbers of days after death as the number of years the kid lived." His hand brushed over hers and her fingers sought out firmer contact, as she took in a gasp of air. "Carter?"

Sniffling, the once-astrophysicist snapped back into focus at his use of her last name. "Yeah, that's...nice." Her eyes were raw and the lines of her lips quaked as though they threatened to fall apart.

"Come on, cheer up, we're getting married tomorrow," Jack insisted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and taking note of how she leaned into him. Victory was badly-placed in such a sense but still appreciated.

"I thought we were just marrying for the honeymoon break," she croaked out. By that time, she rested more on him than her own two feet. And his aging frame took it at the cost of his knees and his back because it cost his heart nothing.

He would've laughed but her bowed head and downcast eyes told him a cautionary tale. "If you keep crying, you'll ruin your make up." But she didn't reply to that, instead allowing her eyes to slide closed and her head to burrow into his shirt. "You're supposed to say - don't be silly, Jack, they don't have proper make up here."

And she glanced up at him, blue irises turned into oceans by the tears that laid on top of them. "I know you didn't like him but..." she began, extricating herself from his grasp. Distance separated them at the drop of a hat with each inch more telling than the missing weight of her against his chest.

"You don't think I did it, do you?" Jack probed, as he tilted his head.

Eyes wide, Sam shook her head with vigour. "No. You couldn't have and you wouldn't. That's not who you are." That last statement was barely above a whisper, a ghost of a smile on her lips, as if she was afraid the words would escape if she spoke louder.

Jack nodded, closed the gap and took her hands between both of his. "But you miss him. I know what it feels like, you know." So now they'd both lost a boy - he wasn't sure he was all that comforted by the fact.

"The sooner we get this out of the way, the sooner we can move on..." Sam let out a sigh. Their hands remained together for a moment before his slipped away. Against her will.

When she looked up, hurt was on his face. "Right. Anyway, I've got to get to..."

"Your bachelor party, stag night. Yeah, I've got it - go. Have fun." With a shiver, not dissimilar to that of withdrawal, she detached herself entirely from his vicinity and turned away. The outfit she'd had made for her own evening. They'd brought the tradition to the village, figuring a little piece of home couldn't hurt. Their new friends had taken to it well enough. Except the one that wasn't there to take anything.

"You sure?"

Sam tossed an imploring look in his direction, to which he grabbed his jacket and took the cue to leave.

Despite his body having left the room, the rest of him still lingered there throughout the course of the evening. When drinks were passed into his hands, it was as though he was pouring the liquid into an empty metal barrel and each fresh stream clattered on its way down.

The atmosphere was different to a stag night on Earth. The three tanks of alcohol they'd acquired were stronger and the villagers drank differently. It started to mess with his head a little, made the air around him seem heavier and even played on his distractions. At least it made him forget the three men that were definitely missing from the adventure. With one of them dead and the other two convinced that he must've been, it wasn't likely they'd be joining the congregation.

He talked, drank, talked some more and drank some more. Then he retreated into an armchair, claiming exhaustion.

_ plonked down in front of him without him noticing, laid a hand on his shoulder and muttered, "If you need to go..."

"Err... Thanks." Jack mustered a smile in thanks then slipped out of his chair and into the night.

Dusk's chill leaking in through his shirt, he played his conversation with Sam back through his mind. He wasn't as stupid as he looked.

Shame radiated through him. Why did I even think tomorrow was a good day for her? It was always just an arrangement... Just a silly kids' game. I'm too old for this.

Jack's feet ground to a halt and he stared down at them, slightly damp from the leftover rain pooling at his soles. The night was still.

Until the scream tore through it.

His feet covered more ground with every second the sound echoed in his mind. Feminine and full of anguish. All the while, he struggled to think of anything that resembled a weapon; everything like that was inside the door of his home and, once that was opened, the cottage's inhabitants would know he was there. There was no sneaking on this one.

So he barrelled in through the door and came to a stop at the same time as everyone else. What he saw there wasn't quite what he'd expected. Sam stood in fighting stance against a familiar figure in a suit. A knife lay (probably not forgotten) on the floor turned out to the side as if one of them had dropped it.

"Honey, I'm home..." Jack quipped, though the humor was as vacant as his hands. "You didn't tell me we were having the mayor over for dinner."

Quirking an eyebrow, as she panted for air, Sam replied, "No, it was a bit of surprise really. A friend cancelled on me and he just...dropped by."

A clatter pounded through the walls from outside. Jack took the opportunity, dived for their SGC equipment and pulled out his gun.

With the other man's attention diverted, the mayor zeroed in on the knife. Sam held her breath and took note. The two foes exchanged fleeting glances, bodies tensing. Then both made a dash for the weapon, Sam was faster and closer but hadn't accounted for him playing dirty. He shoved her to the ground using his 'superior' body weight and clutched the dagger like a toddler would grip a pencil. And Jack was stilled after the few steps he'd gained in their distraction. For the blade was pressed against her neck.

At first, she struggled in his grasp. But she soon realised, even if he moved his foot from its place in front of her leg, the cold metal would remain digging into her skin. His other hand was knotted in her hair so that her head leaned back far enough to maximise the the threat to her jugular. However she moved, it'd be sliced open.

"Ah, ah. Don't come any closer. She has to die and so do you. Now, are you going to put that down or will I have to trip your darling fiance up? And we all know what happens then." The foot he'd secured in front of hers tapped at her calf and a deranged grin worked its way onto his face.

Sam caught his eye, unable to do much more than swallow and stare. Contrary to his wishes, and they didn't involve putting down the gun, he caved to what he knew hers would be.

"Good. It seems you're intelligent after all - not enough to make a science team but, of course, you already know we don't keep those around anymore."

Jack scowled and mumbled, "Yeah, thanks for the memo. Not."

Either sarcasm was treated very differently on their planet, or he was just too pumped up with adrenaline to care, the mayor didn't seem offended. "So, who will it be first?" The tip of his knife slid out of place and came down to tap a pin prick hole in Sam's shoulder. A bead of red welled up at the site of the cut. The tiny dot was far enough away from her neck and she could've dodged the knife if it hadn't been for the momentary sting.

So she breathed and glanced around her. "Aww, look, she's panicking," he teased. Panicking. Panicking. Jack knew better - she was looking for ways out. Their eyes met and his heart constricted. Time, she needed time.

"You don't have to do this. I mean, you could just...let us go. How about that? And we won't say a word to anyone." After years of talking back to people like Ba'al, he had to school his expression. The younger man's relatively clean and undamaged fingers gripped the handle of the knife, leaving sweat marks in the places his palm shifted from.

"I find that hard to believe - no, now you know my secret, I can't allow you to leave."

"The thing is, we don't know your secret."

"Don't play stupid with me, Jack. You might be able to fool yourself that you're that much of an idiot but you can't fool me. And, even if you were, I wouldn't put it past your pretty little wife here to explain it all to you."

The word 'wife' felt cavernous to his ears. But that was outshine by his anger, his desire to defend the woman who would always be his partner in crime but never his partner. "Hey, she's not just a genius on very good legs. She's-"

He held up a hand. "I'm not interested in what you think she is. Once I'm done with her, I'll be moving on to you. Any last words?" He peered round at her, making another dot incision closer to her neck.

"Go to hell." Sam ground the words out, gritting her teeth through smothered pants.

"See you there," he retorted. Then he tightened his grip as if to bury the knife in her neck.

In that moment, their gazes locked. Blue eyes were wide and verging on tears despite her steeled jaw. Her hands hung at her sides, half-clenched, as if the wasted years were slipping through her fingers like they should've been flashing before her eyes. Like they should've been flashing before his. But he couldn't recall a single happy moment with her or the sight of her smile of the smell of as they leaned on each other in whatever god forsaken place they'd ended up in. Only those eyes with fresh wrinkles that had nothing and everything to do with age.

The next thing she knew, the knife clattered away from her neck and the man holding it slumped forwards. Sam whipped round and seized the weapon. An identical one was buried in his back, blood splattered up the metal, and it was parked right between his shoulder blades. Behind her, Jack took a breath of relief then began to walk towards her.

"Wait." The word fell from her lips as she pointed to a shadow further into the house. "Who are you and what do you want?"

Still, there was no reply and the shadow became a figure who became Ma. Her eyes were narrowed and she gripped a third knife. When Sam pointed her own in her direction, the older woman's hands raised in surrender. "Stop, stop, I can explain. I'm here to protect you."

"Really? You stopped me from going to the party in the first place. How do I know you're not working with him to get me killed?" With pursed lips, she clutched the rubber handle tighter.

But then Jack was beside her, arms crossed. "Hang on. I want to hear what she has to say."

She glanced between Jack and Ma, jaw tight, then lowered her hand and gave a curt nod.

"I used you as bait to draw him out into the open. He's been acting suspicious. More than usual," Ma began, holding her own weapon down by her side. "If you're wondering why I left it so late, I had to make sure he was properly distracted."

Jack's shoulder brushed against Sam's and he probed, "Wouldn't be anything to do with this 'secret' of his, would it?"

Ma nodded. "The bubble didn't naturally occur - the other villagers think it did but I know better. The thing is, he's greedy. He wanted to keep every advancement to himself so he did - because they couldn't travel, they didn't know they were living in poverty compared to the years of innovation they'd slaved away at. If they did, they were silenced and unable to run away and tell someone."

"Surely someone noticed? What about the people actually making progress, wouldn't they have..?" The younger woman's lips were parted, as if she wanted to say more but couldn't quite find the words. Her throat had dried up.

"At first, the science team noticed and he tried bribery." The cook sighed, playing with a chain around her neck. Whatever was attached to it disappeared beneath her neckline. Hidden. Much like her. "Their inventions weren't getting through so they started work on analysing the barrier. He found them, killed them and told the rest of the town that they were corrupt. My brother was one of them. After that, invention was left up to individual departments. But manual labourers don't have the time to make much of a discovery."

And now Sam was shaking her head, glancing down at the Mayor's body. "How do you know what is or isn't a discovery anyway?"

"I'm just as interested in science as you are, Samantha. I apologise for being harsh; I had my reasons. Not only do I need to keep up appearances and test my new staff, but I didn't want you to fall into the trap you have."

Jack opened his mouth to speak, fire in his eyes, but Sam rested a hand on his shoulder. "You're forgiven. Just forgive me if I'm kind of surprised... If everyone on the science team was killed, and you were...interested, how are you still alive?"

"Nobody suspected me - I used my brother to gain resources. After he died, I wasn't beautiful enough to beg to be held as an intellectual. Can't say I'm sorry." As Ma spoke, she never broke eye contact. Not even to slip her knife away into the pocket of her apron. Her eyes were made of steel again and her lips curved into a small smile.

"So, did they actually find anything out before the whole thing went south?" Jack slouched a little. Tired with a tiny bit of alcohol mixed in, just to make things interesting. Maybe a murder wasn't the kind of interesting he was hoping for.

"That's reminds me. Come with me." Ma bustled past them, beckoning with one hand, and shocked him alert. The soon-to-be married couple exchanged glances, him shrugging and her raising an eyebrow, before they followed their new ally out the door.

Several minutes in the biting air, and a (thankfully) shorter time in the sauna that was the kitchens, they came to a stop in front of a tapestry. Ma pulled it aside and opened a door that revealed a darkened passageway. Holding the door open, she ushered them inside and down the steps.

Inside, the structure was completely different to anything else in village. Except for support beams running along the ceiling and the walls, like a grid, there was no other wooden aspect to it. Everything was made of brick, metal or stone.

Jack swept a hand across his forehead. "It's a lot cooler down here."

"Never mind that; it's a lab..." Sam ventured forward, approaching one of the tables and pouring over handwritten text.

"You're the only one of my staff that'd know - now, that is."

Anguish pained the features of both women, until Sam lifted the book up and tossed dust particles into the air. Tossed the conversation away. She turned the book towards Ma and pointed to a specific section. "You've been working on a way to penetrate the field?"

"On a small scale, yes, but we didn't get very far." Her employer glanced down at the page with her hand back at that chain around her neck. "Would you be willing to work with me? Watching you to make sure you carry on, despite your grief, would be an excellent cover for us to talk at work. And I'd appreciate it if you could acquire the materials for this." A pointed look in Jack's direction assured him that he was the recipient of her orders now.

Sam glanced back at him and a small smile spread across his face, blinking: once for necessity, twice for comedy. Then he nodded. Sure, you can keep the puppy... Just don't let the equations swallow you first.

Clearing his throat, Jack began to back up towards the door. "Look, I should probably get back and clean up that dead body before someone notices and thinks we're having Mayor for dinner. Maybe create some kind of crime scene out in the open."

When the clunk of the door and the shuffling of the tapestry reached them, Ma regarded her for a moment then asked, "Did he give you that? And I don't mean Jack." She pointed to her shoulder.

Sam inhaled and shifted her t-shirt. "Yeah, he was messing with our heads."

"He's liked to do that from the start, takes joy in other people's pain and discomfort. Glad he's gone, even if there's going to be gossip like never before." The book was settled between them on a table but their attention wasn't devoted to the reading.

"How did he get to be Mayor?"

Ma pulled back, searching through the cupboard next to them. "Something odd happened to the last mayor right before he was about to make public recommendation on a successor. There's always a vote, mind you, but I get the feeling he'd have lost if that man lived to tell his tale."

When she received no reply, the eldest peered over her shoulder - Sam was staring at her lap, hand over the puncture marks, and the text lay forgotten on the surface in front of her.

She bit her lip, rattled through the cupboard a bit more and then turned around. In her hands were the pieces of one of the experiments components that drawn in aged ink on the notes. "Help me put this back together?"

Dawn was breaking when the two women stood outside the kitchens. Ma rested a hand on her uninjured shoulder and smiled. Her eyes might've been watering but the flood of light made Sam doubt that. "Go, get some sleep, you have a big day ahead of you. I'll make sure nobody disturbs it."

"Thank you. And I'm sorry." At the frown she received in response, Sam elaborated, "I was wrong about you. I guess I thought you were out to make my life a misery but you were really just...trying to help."

"And you had no clue, exactly how I wanted it. Now go." Ma made a shooing action and the blonde took that as her cue to depart.

When she arrived back home, the fire was lit and Jack sat on the rug with his hands held out towards the heat. "If you keep that up, you'll get a tan."

"You know... I was wondering when you'd get your head out of that lab. Should've known you'd find somewhere, even on a planet without cell phones." He stretched his hands and yawned, but didn't turn to look at her as her shadow played at the edge of his vision. Her limbs folded next to him, their bodies touching, and he reached out for her.

His arm found her shoulders, wrapped itself around them and drew her in to lean her head on him. Chancing a glance over at her, he absorbed how the fire light gave disheveled locks an almost ethereal glow and how one hand rested on his leg. In that moment, the snap of the fire in the background, he wanted to freeze time at a world where they had little to fear. A world where everything was warm and he could bury his face in her hair.

"I see you tidied up," Sam mumbled against him.

Jack hummed his affirmative, while his finger paved circles into her arm. "Yeah, I put everything away - clean laundry, bloody knife, dangerous experiment, dead body... The works."

At that, she chuckled and brought her free hand up to stop his. Jack froze, swallowing, then realised she was hooking his arm around her waist instead and knotting her fingers in with his. "We've got a wedding tomorrow. It doesn't feel real, Jack."

"I know. I get it, I really do. You're the only thing that's even remotely real at the minute." His tone was smooth and solemn, the same exhaustion mixed with fading alcohol giddiness.

"So you're not marrying me for-"

His grip tightened on her and his shaking head ruffled the top of her hair. "No, of course not, I was an idiot. Feel free to hit me for it." And he felt her exhale with the flutter of his t-shirt, closing his eyes to the sensation.

"You wouldn't like the bruise." The smile was back in her voice so he forced himself to envision her actual smile, bright and all-consuming, as it had been before. Maybe that was one thing he hadn't wanted to sacrifice to achieve what they had now.

"Guess you're right..." Pressing his lips to her crown, he murmured, "We've got to go through with it, make ourselves whatever version of next of kin these guys have."

His knee tingled as the hand there shifted into a different position. Blue eyes part-hidden by lids, Sam looked up at him. "And the rest should come to us eventually."

After a moment, he nodded. "Something like that."

Silence stretched out ahead of them, basking in the heat, as Jack's thumb brushed along her hand.

"Can I go to sleep on your shoulder?"

"Sure, sure. Get comfortable." Some shuffling took place before she was curled into him enough for her liking. Light framed them, casting their shadow far behind. Jack ceased the movements of his hand, slowed his breathing and rested his head on hers. Then her eyes slid shut and the next few hours would be theirs.