Chapter 11

O'Neill sent Daniel and Teal'c back out to find a way, any way, to get them out of this predicament. Pacing, he waited in the room for Sam to see if she had any ideas.

Sam came back to the room still in the attire of the temple priestesses. From a wide beaded collar, sparkling silver and gold, hung her gown, made up of overlapping strips of a white translucent material. When she moved the strips fluttered like the petals of a flower, occasionally revealing her calf or thigh. Her hands and feet were richly designed and her hair was intricately plaited and interwoven with the flowers of the sacred vine, stunning white orchids, each with a large seed pod. O'Neill had seen a Georgia O'Keefe or two, there was no comparison, these flowers were obscene. Sam's pupils were dilated and she had a hazy smile on her face.

O'Neill took her hand to get her attention.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

O'Neill was slightly confused.
"Carter, try and focus."

Sam looked hurt and tried to pull her hand from his "You don't like…"

He looked at the design and rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, driving more of the drugs into her blood stream.

"It's beautiful"

There was a knock on the door and it swung open to reveal servants bearing dinner. There was roasted lamb on a bed of couscous, fowl in a flaky crust, and sautéed vegetables and, of course, hot flat bread and a flagon of beer. O'Neill was starved and tucked in with gusto. Sam had little to eat that day and ate slowly but steadily. Everything was seasoned with the food of the gods.

"Did you try this?" O'Neill said as he passed Sam a platter.

"I'm really thirsty. Could you pass the beer?"

"You know you seem a little tipsy already, Have you been drinking?"

Sam sat up straight and did not look amused in the least. "Sir, you know I'd never drink on duty."

"Sam, they don't seem to have any water, just this endless supply of beer."

"The women in the temple were drinking tea, sort of like that herbal cinnamon apple stuff you hate."

"No caffeine – totally useless."

"I do feel kinda mellow but not at all drunk. How about you?"

"I… I ah… good, I guess. I was starved; I think they were just playing a little dominance game with the food. But a little beer with a meal – no problem, although I'm getting a little tired of cinnamon in everything. Not that I'm complaining, I just rather it in my apple pie."

"Is it in the beer too?"

"No only place I haven't tasted it." And with that he passed it to Carter who needed two hands to manage the large flagon. After quenching her thirst she passed it back and he upended it.

The serving women came in shortly after they were finished, cleaned up the remains of the meal and offered Jack and Sam warm moist cloths to refresh themselves. They fussed over Carter, giggling as they complimented her hair and clothing and coloring.

When they left Sam felt a bit shy as she realized Jack was looking at her with a gentle smile. He had noticed all the things the women commented on and was admiring her. She turned a little to the left so she was not looking directly at him and then leaned back. The soft petal of the dress fell away and exposed her right breast.

O'Neill was having a bit of trouble clearing his mind. Maybe he did drink too much or maybe it was a stronger brew but the women's words like little twittering birds were dancing around in his head. She was an exceptional woman, beautiful and intelligent, brave and resourceful. She was not full of herself, modest yet she possessed inner strength. Sam had a kind and compassionate heart. And she was hot. And he wanted her and he wasn't supposed to think that way, let alone touch her. And he so wanted to touch her.

As she leaned back he could see the design swirling around her breast, spikes radiating out from her areola like sun rays and vines and flowers woven around them. He reached out his hand to touch the intriguing pattern. His fingers traced the rays, pausing on the lovely orchid like flowers, following the winding path of the vine. She moaned softly through parted lips, his eyes now on her mouth, then back to the breast at his fingertips. And then his fingers sliding back up the rays, gently graze her nipple. She arched toward his hand, shivered at his touch, his touch that released more of the drugs into her blood stream. It felt good, the drugs pulsating through her and, more so, his touch that she craved.

Jack's fingertips felt as though they were burning, burning with desire and burning in shame. He felt he was taking advantage and he could never hurt Sam. He pulled his hand back and turned away. She wanted desperately for him to touch her again, for him to see and touch all the designs on her body. She didn't have to hear the words to know what he was thinking.

Sam curled up on the bench and fell into an uneasy sleep. As hungry as he had been, the meal was not resting easy in O'Neill's stomach. Jack was also too wired to sleep, beside the fact that he didn't trust himself to lie down beside her and was afraid if he sat on the other bench facing her, he would do nothing but stare and fantasize about her. He sat facing the door his knuckles white as he clenched the edge of the seat.

Daniel and Teal'c arrival was a very welcome distraction.

"Jack, we've got a problem."

One look at Daniel's face and Jack forgot about a welcome distraction.