FalloutGate (Part 2): Commonwealth

by devilishlysas

One year after finding themselves stranded on an irradiated alternate Earth (the Fallout 4 Universe), Sam & Jack have found a way to survive, but their brief peace is shattered when a Shadow of Steel is cast across the Wasteland and the ever present threat of the Institute looms closer. Continues from FalloutGate Part 1, please read that first or this won't make a lick of sense.

28. Chapter 28 - Far Harbor

CHAPTER 28: FAR HARBOR

[Vanir Scout Ship – Milky Way Galaxy, Fallout Universe]

AUTHORS NOTE: for those that haven't read/noticed it, the ending of the last Chapter 27 was edited and reposted with an additional 5 pages. If you haven't read that please go back and do that before reading this! Sorry I don't usually do post-edits unless to correct an error, but I think that Chapter needed a little bit extra as it had felt unfinished, thank you to those who helped me improve it with their comments.

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Jack sat in the pilot seat with little to do; these not-quite Asgard ships practically flew themselves. It was all computers and code. Nothing for an actual pilot to do unless it got tricky, which is why he'd bought along the ball. He'd been bouncing it off the hull walls for the past hour until Sam had confiscated it, catching it before it reached his hand and pocketing it with a look that bordered on murderous.

"Play a video game Jack," she'd ordered, tapping the PipBoy on his wrist. "Please. The Red Menace should keep you entertained for at least an hour."

Jack smirked. "Don't tell me you're already thinking of kicking me out?"

"Don't tempt me." She ruffled her hand through his short hair, tugging faintly at the strands and tilting his head back to press a somewhat forceful kiss to his forehead.

"So, not to be a cliché but…" he began as she released him.

"Jack O'Neill. If you ask me if we're nearly there yet one more time, I will find a way to punish you. It's barely been two days," she snapped, reaching over him to fiddle with the console, her ass almost in his lap and he groaned; if his punishment involved the words 'no' and 'sex' he might seriously consider behaving.

"If you don't want to play a game, why don't you do something useful?" she suggested, glancing back at him. He felt her attention, drawing his eyes up from her shapely ass which was back in that blue Vault suit again, which meant he was struggling to focus.

"Hmmm?" he asked, his attention elsewhere. "Useful you say. Me?"

"Shocking notion I'm sure." Sam teased as she rolled her eyes and stood up, taking the distraction of her ass with her. "Whilst you've been daydreaming, I've been finding a way to boost the ship's hyperdrive. I don't know about you but a whole week cooped up in here isn't appealing."

"Suping a spaceship…is there no end to your talents Samantha, I take it someone's eager to be home for their birthday?" he teased and she shook her head in despair, although he thought it was probably at his attempt at humour rather than turning 38 years young. Sensing he was losing her, and that today was clearly not a day for even gentle teasing, he sat up a little straighter; he could share if she was going to go down the 'I'm being more productive than you' line.

"Well, I'll have you know that whilst you were doing your nerd magic, I discovered something too… about our Big Green Aliens with the dangly bits."

"Catchy name," Sam quipped, her lips quirking up in response to his smirk.

"Yeah well, how about the Vanir instead."

"Vaneer?" Sam repeated frowning.

"Van..ir," he sounded out and her eyebrows rose; her nose even did that little crinkle of confusion and Jack felt the swell of pride he associated with getting one of her little puzzles right – or cake for a job well done.

"It's what these not-Asgard are called. Zetans is what the humans nicknamed them. And they were the Asgard once. Apparently, back in the day, the Vanir and Thor's folks were happy families from the same planet. Until there was a civil war sparked by differing ideologies – as usual. These Vanir green guys were breeders. They thought cloning was a wicked tool and species suicide."

"Yes well, given the problem Thor's people have been having with genetic decline I'd say they had a point," Sam replied uneasily.

"Yeah, they thought so too… and they were willing to fight for that belief," Jack informed her. "In this reality, they wiped out the Asgard by introducing some sort of genetic virus into the clone batches. It destabilised the memory transfers between bodies. The Asgard slowly went nuts and the Vanir picked them off." Jack mimed a gun blast, feeling just a pang of regret that Thor's people never were out here not as he knew them.

"They put all that in their computer database for just anyone to find?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"Well, not just anyone – me, it was encoded." he admitted.

"You can decode Asgard – I'm sorry Vanir – now?" she asked with clear surprise.

Jack cocked his head. "Apparently – and read Asgard." Sam gave him a horrified look. "If it's any consolation, I don't think this is an Ancient thing, this is more of a – I'm way to familiar with their computers from being stuck inside one thing." He countered and shrugged at her horrified look, "It was one time… and it was what built us the anti-replicator gun, so we should all be grateful it happened. Even if I saw strange and disturbing things inside Thor's browser history." Sam gave him a look. "Okay so that last one was a fib. He cleared his history." he deadpanned and her lips quirked upwards.

"Well, since you've been snooping, did you find out anything else we can use?"

"They don't like humans. And they really did anal probing. The Vanir not the Asgard." Jack qualified with a grimace and Sam rolled her eyes. "Plus, guess where humans got the idea to build their funky Power Armour suits?" He pulled up an image on screen displaying something that looked like it belonged to an Anubis Super-soldier.

"Vanir Battle Armour," he revealed, pleased at her mostly impressed look. "'Cause… you know… they were all green and skinny with no muscle mass to speak of. And a giant nogging just asking to get picked off. Also, holding a big ass gun was a problem," he explained. There had been a lot about biological enhancement in the files which he'd skimmed over in favour of technical enhancements, but he'd duly downloaded it all for later. Or for Thor and his buddies if they did see them again to make use of. He was slowly acquiring his little bag of bribes to ensure any welcome home reception they got was as – smooth – as possible. Or his inevitable retirement he imagined when they figured out what he could do. Sam thought he was overreacting – he thought it was only paranoia if they weren't really out to get you.

"How on Earth would humans get a hold of the design to even copy it?" Sam queried.

"Seems like they must have left one or two around on the scout ship that crashed into Earth. By the way, they're terrible pilots. I'm hoping one of the things you're working on back there is navigation because this thing is like flying a washing machine. It's got no control in the atmosphere at all," Jack muttered and Sam sighed, "I'm just saying." he reasoned.

"So they crashed with some not-so friendly Vanir inside, with their space armour… and humans did what they do best… they found it, took it to pieces and made it deadlier."

"Cheerful story huh?"

"About par for the course out here." Sam admitted as Jack started flipping through the screens in the holo-display which scrawled reams of distinctive Asgardian text. As he did it, he heard Sam's mind go off on a tangent that was mostly anxiety about his current mental state, and if he was going to suddenly offer to help retrofit the hyperdrive again like the last time he went 'Ancient'

"Oy! I told you I'm fine… and my heads only a 'little' Ancient this time. Which means I'm still perfectly oblivious to how all that technical stuff works. I just understand some scratches on a computer screen better." She wasn't appeased by that and he grew irritable, "Look, I'd thank you to stop jumping to the idea that my head is going to explode at the first sign of me taking the slightest bit of initiative!"

"Jack… I say this with love… get out of my head before I smack you," she told him pointedly and he swallowed, wondering how far he could push it; sometimes she enjoyed a bit of his sass.

"Where?" he asked coyly; she clipped him round the ear and made to stride off back to the engine no doubt.

"Hey… hey! Wait! Sam come on, don't be such a spoil sport. That's not all I learnt," he called after her and she stilled, spinning back on her heel to glare at him, arms crossed, waiting. He decided they were the kind of couple that needed their own space and breathing room, he filed that away for later, realising a lot of their blow ups happened when they'd been cooped up together too long.

"Thank you," he acknowledged, "So, turns out this inbuilt database of theirs is full of interesting titbits and fun facts."

"Like?" Oh she really was no fun when she was distracted by her fancy engines, he groused.

"Like…there were six great races that formed an alliance of sorts in this Universe, although I use the term alliance loosely. Mostly what they did was bicker and agree not to blow up too much of each other's piece of the sky," he explained, "So we got the Ancients… which we'd guessed… the Vanir… and some unpleasant folks that called themselves the Ori. They were to the Ancients what the Vanir were to the Asgard, only more into the God-Like smiting business."

"An 'Ancient' war?" Sam posed, "no pun intended." she added coming closer and he smirked, reeling her in.

"I know right? They were always such peaceful good-for-nothing floaty guys of pure light," he mused. "Then we've got the Unas. By all accounts in this Universe, Chakra and his lot were a wise and oddly long lived race who mostly kept to their planet's swamps and had a glowing eye problem."

Sam raised her finger to her lips in contemplation of that, "So the Goa'uld stayed in the Unas."

"Looks like," he agreed. "I hate to say it, but maybe it was the human-being in them that made them such insufferable asshats." They both paused to consider that for a moment, before Jack shrugged, letting it go.

"That's five. Who were the last race? The Knox?" she queried.

"No." Jack winced. "In this oh-so-fun reality, our would be rulers number six would be those soul sucking Wraith." Sam's look of horror matched his own feelings on the matter. "I know right?" He shook his head, "No wonder this Universe went to rat-shit with the Wraith and Unas-Goa'uld sitting at the big table, they'd probably invite the damn Replicators next."

Sam pursed her lips, looking like she was ready to be shot of this place; he shared the sentiment. "Sounds like a fun party," she muttered, "Is there anything useful in there from the Vanir that might help us if we run into the Wraith? Or this other group of more unpleasant Ancient's," she asked, gesturing towards the console, as practical as ever. He didn't need mind reading to tell him it was getting her goat that her knowledge of Asgard was only enough to get her through the technical specs and the command consoles. Languages – even with her Tok'Ra memories – were neither her nor Jolinar's strong suit, which was probably for the best; she already made most of the people she met look fairly inept. Besides Daniel would pout if she stole his thing.

"You planning on picking a fight?" he asked, only half serious. She glanced back at him and he heard her thoughts loud and clear – they were 'flying into this blindly'.

"Yeah I know. I don't want to run into alien nasties out here either. Though you did say this thing has some sort of weapons systems," he suggested.

"It has an ion cannon. But actually, I was 'thinking' if we get back home, that we really have no idea about what's going on there, it can't hurt to be prepared." She corrected and he frowned. Oh. Down side to mind reading, it was surprisingly easy to get the wrong end of the stick.

"Fair point," he acknowledged; he didn't like to think too hard about the state of what they might be walking into. "I mean, it couldn't be worse than here could it? Although if the Wraith have taken over the Galaxy in our Universe, I'm going to be super pissed. I may even have to kick Sheppard's ass." He recalled the other irreverent Colonel, who was a good man and a good soldier but, in his opinion hadn't been the man he'd wanted having his team's back when they'd considered him as a replacement for SG1, when they'd gone and pinned a set of stars to his shoulders. He wondered who they'd found in the end. He'd made a few suggestions, before they'd decided they were perfectly good as a trio for now. He imagined they'd have had to do something now though, could hardly have a team of two – although he and Sam had managed it pretty well.

But maybe SG1 no longer existed. There had been a few grumbles from Teal'c about returning to his people, to help start to lead them out of the mindset of slaves what with the Goa'uld on the way out – or that was the hope when they'd left. And Daniel, well, without Jack holding the reigns and without much else to keep him there, he was certain the Space Monkey would have finally nagged his way onto Atlantis. That was if Daniel wasn't still dead. Being all ascended tended to mean that didn't it? Given their little chat a Universe away he had to assume that meant Daniel had died again. God, he hoped he'd turned up butt naked somewhere again. This time conveniently with a memory of them being stranded a Universe away.

Either way, he supposed knowing what these Vanir did about their supposed allies, whether they were Ancient, not-Ancient's, Goa'uld-like or Wraith, could only help. "I'll take a look. The Vanir seem like the shoot first, probe later type."

"Don't work too hard," Sam offered with a smirk.

"Yeah sure ya betcha." He waved her off, "See, I'm helping."

'Never doubted it,' she fired back in her head as she turned to disappear into the back of the ship once again. He would have thought she was avoiding him, except he could see inside her head. It wasn't that, and if he was honest, disappearing into work without so much as coming up for air was pretty much Sam's MO. What he was getting – and if he was honest, he was a little nervous about – was the fact that she was still genuinely worried about the Gate and what it might take to get them home. Just hearing the sheer volume of calculations and equations running through her head was making his brain hurt. Apparently, it was not just figuring out a way to get them back from a power point of view, there was also the little issue of drift calculations, which she'd set up on the Vanir systems to map star charts relative to Earth, and there was also the lack of DHD – she was having to write a program into her PipBoy to feed into the ship that could replicate that. It seems the Ancients in this little intergalactic group of aliens weren't into sharing their Gate technology.

"There really might be only one in this Galaxy," he told her as she started to leave and she froze. "Gate," he added, "What you were thinking," he pointed to his temple, "I think Earth's gate might be it for the Milky Way. The Vanir mention something about their technology being hoarded in the Pegasus Galaxy it's why they were looking on Earth for it. Seems the Ancients vanished in this Universe too – they wanted to know where to and given as Earth was the only place with humans left…"

"Left?" she asked looking horrified that this Universe kept getting worse for humanity, he wasn't about to give her better news.

"Yeah, left. Seems there's some sort of messed up deal between these Ori and Wraith. They've divided our species up like chattel when the Ancient's left the party. The Vanir found this subpopulation of humans in the Milky Way and surmised that it was the Ancient's backup planet for their race. It's why they've been keeping an eye. Seems like they're the Ancient scavengers in this reality not the Goa'uld."

Sam nodded. "Okay. Although I'm not sure what's more disturbing. The fact that you knew where I was going with that tangent in my head. That you found all that out in a language so complex it would give Daniel a run for his money, or that there was possibly an even worse fate waiting for these poor people if they do ever get off their dead planet." Sam grimaced.

He felt a pang of guilt, it wasn't like he wasn't trying to shut it off and let her keep her thoughts to herself. Oh he'd been trying! But something about the way this damn ship was designed was like an echo chamber, bouncing it all back at him. He wondered if this version of the Asgard – the Vanir – were slightly psychic, which might explain it – that and their big noggins. It was confusing and a little headachy as he struggled to figure out which were his feelings and which were hers.

Reading he was finding, much to his annoyance, helped more than a mindless game or the rhythmic pattern of a ball, which had usually been his go to. Right now, a blank space in his head just seemed to invite more of her thoughts to seep in. So he was more than happy to immerse himself in this damn database; the Vanir's mostly Asgard language pushing his brain and stopping it dwelling on hers. The fact that his brain could read it at all was also a serious concern he was trying not to dwell on. He had to assume it was some weird, repressed memory from when he was temporarily transferred into the computer system the last time he went a bit Ancient. That or he was just channelling Daniel. God, he hoped the Space Monkey hadn't done this to him with that little 'bop' that ramped the rest of his abilities to about an eleven on the barometer of weird.

"Jack?" Sam was in front of him, he didn't remember her moving, she had a concerned expression on. "You've been zoning out all day, are you sure you're okay?"

"What? Yes… it's just this ship, it's like a damn echo chamber. It bounces all the thoughts in. I think the Vanir were slightly psychic, based on the size of their heads, and that this is a deliberate problem." He grimaced, "It's making it tricky for me to 'stay out' of your headspace. And find mine." he added darkly.

"Oh Jack honey, I had no idea." she admitted and he didn't like the pitied expression as he waved it away, or the guilt she felt at being irritable with him for something he couldn't control – something she largely blamed herself for inflicting on him. It was an old theme of theirs doomed it seemed to keep repeating itself.

"It's fine. It's me that should be apologising for not being able to keep the hell out."

"Jack…" she started reaching for him and he shook his head, brushing past her.

"I gotta pee." he gave her a false smile, but stopped at least to listen, even if he had one foot out the door so to speak.

Sam sighed, hands on her hips but she seemed to give in to his need to pretend he wasn't struggling with his damn ability for now. "What else is new." She rolled her eyes. "I suppose I could do with a break, I might take a nap. The ship's not getting there any faster. Not without me blowing something important… like life support. My best guess based on the spatial grid coordinates for P4 - I mean Far Harbour," she corrected herself at his frown, "is that we'll be another couple of days."

"Excellent. I'm sure that'll give us lots of time to 'not think' stuff." He stalked off and Sam rolled her eyes retreating to the hammock style bunk they'd erected. He left her be, she hadn't slept well in a while, and even though he wasn't sleeping next to her, he could still help ease any nightmares given the proximity. It sucked though, that he couldn't even give her headspace when she slept. But having her put a super powered foot through the hull out here, was probably a bad idea.

Sam's dreams were mostly filled with technical nonsense and surprisingly lucid ideas about where she'd ride her motorcycle when she got back. Which was a relief, he could tune those out mostly, clearly her mind was too preoccupied to dwell on nightmares today. He returned to his damn console and started reading.

What felt like a few minutes later he lifted his head to the feel of her hand on his back, realising he must have fallen asleep at some point and not noticed her return.

"Riveting reading I take it?" she ribbed and he mock laughed.

"Funny," Jack retorted. "Good nap?"

"Indeed," she aped Teal'c; he had to give her points for that, particularly given as very soon they might be seeing the big Jaffa himself. "I'd ask you the same but I can see it was," she stroked his cheek where he realised he had the imprint of his fingers that he'd been laying on." he discreetly wiped the back of his mouth and straightened up as Sam slotted in behind his back, pressing her front there and not retreating.

"So did you learn anything?" she asked, running her hands through his scalp. He tried not to moan at the relief her touch bought from his ever present headache.

"Well, I've learned that the Vanir had buns of steel… 'cause my ass is numb," he groused. The seat was terrible for a man his size. Maybe he should have installed a new one he mused, although he'd been too damn busy building a wall and appeasing his conscience for that.

"Really? I'd say I don't feel your pain but you're frequently a pain in my ass when you visit my labs so…" Sam sassed him.

"Oh very clever. But this isn't a lab… it's a ship," he pointed out.

"And yet… you're still a pain…in… my…" She swung her ass towards him with a smirk. He growled a little surprised by the sudden change in mood from her, but more than willing to go with it as he gripped that ass and swung her onto his lap. Apparently a few hours sleep was all she'd needed to improve her mood somewhat – although he hadn't quite expected this playfulness. She sat there astride him and grinned up somewhat coquettishly, the damn woman liked being a tease he decided. He grinned darkly in response, two could play at that, dropping his head to her neck to press a row of kisses beneath her jaw and down her neck, whilst Sam's hands slid along his shoulders pulling him close. She was stressed and as stir crazy as he was he realised, but there was a lightness to her beneath that tension that he hadn't felt in a long time, he put that down to being on this ship, and off that damn Earth. One way or another they were getting home – or they'd die trying. He supposed there was something freeing in that kind of 'all or nothing' play.

"You came in here just to tease me Mrs O'Neill… with that ass of yours. 'Fess up."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She pressed a kiss to his chin, then upwards to his lips, her fingers tracing up through the base of his skull until his head was tipping back into her hand. "I just came in here to get a snack."

"Is that a euphemism?" He gripped her ass in both of his hands and practically melted at the feel of her against him. "Because if so, I need a snack too," he muttered, sliding one hand from that oh so pert ass up along her ribcage, feeling the sensations coming from her, of everything he did as he slid his fingers over her covered breast.

"I don't have time for you to tease and torment me to insanity. I have work to do," she hummed biting her lip and letting her head fall back as he rocked up into her, clearly not moving or protesting his current distraction from all that 'work'. God he loved her. Had he known she liked these kind of distractions to help get her back and focussed on her work a few years ago, well, he figured he'd never have left her lab.

"Oh I won't tease Samantha. I'm going to give you exactly what you want," he growled, slipping his hand up her sternum and slowly slipping down the front zip of her suit.

"I thought we agreed no mind reading on purpose," she rasped quietly against his lips as he rocked up into her, slipping his hand inside the material of her suit to touch the aching flesh of her breast, just like she wanted. "Oh God," she panted out as he brushed his fingers with intent, stroking the underside of her flesh and sliding his palm along her stiffening nipple.

"Not unless you want me to," he agreed, sucking a point behind her ear that had her mouth falling open and her breath hitching. He didn't need to hear her thoughts to know she wanted that, but it could be so much better if she let him in.

"Who says I want you to?" She quirked an eyebrow but her smirk spoke volumes as she found his lips and swept her tongue into his mouth.

'Show me stars flyboy,' Sam thought, clearly amused and a lot turned on as her tongue flicked across his; he groaned deeply. God, the things she made him feel.

"Anything you want Sam," he rasped as she quickly began to shirk off both their suits whilst he took her mouth with his. He had a hard time curbing the instinct to immediately delve fully into her mind and make her tremble and scream at his touch, but subtlety was key. The idea of being able to give her everything, to know intimately what it was she wanted, no, needed from him was addictive and he'd indulged as often as she'd allow him – and she'd been allowing him a lot lately. Stress relief he surmised; his wife had always had her coping mechanisms, only there hadn't been that many pavements she could pound or gym bags she could pummel recently. So it seemed he had become her latest endorphin rush; to quiet the rampaging thoughts running in her head, or the encroaching memories she wanted to blot out – a way to ensure she was focused on the task at hand.

Speaking of. Her hand gripped his and guided him lower. "I thought you said you wouldn't tease." She bit his lip and he winced, even as he groaned hard at the feel of her hot and wet as his fingers slid inside her.

"Oh I'm not teasing," he promised, covering her mouth with his and touching her harder and faster than he'd have dared before his abilities, right until she was at the brink, then he backed off. Shallower, slower, but no less hard, listening to the increasingly less coherent instructions and desires coming from the woman sat astride him, until she reached a crescendo. Sam came against him and the sound was lost to his mouth as he held each one greedily, shifting suddenly so that the weeping head of his cock was sliding into her still shuddering heat. Her mouth left his as she buried her head in his neck and he held her close, absorbing every nuance of her sharp breaths and pounding heart against him as her mind went blank. The thoughts that had battered him, shoving and pulling, simply stopped and he was awash in the mind-bending feel of her orgasm. Men had been short-changed in that department; he'd realised that the first time they'd done it like this and he could feel just how much more women felt and could keep on feeling. The unique sensation of feeling stretched to fullness, alongside his usual sensation of feeling enveloped and warm – all of it somehow pressure, building with waves of sensation – it was beyond anything he'd ever experienced. But then being with Sam had always felt like that.

His arms curled around her as he held on and began to move slowly, but deeply, rocking his pelvis the way she liked and building her up again, barely letting her down. Sam had always liked flying close to the edge and that came to sex too. She liked the climb almost as much as the fall.

He loved her so much. He'd known it before, but now being with her again, having her in his arms, it felt like a dream, one he still worried he'd wake up from. He didn't deserve to feel like this, didn't deserve the sheer joy and pride he felt when she worked a technical miracle, or came apart around him. Which was why the fear remained… of the man that lurked just behind his eyes, the man he'd glimpsed in the mirror not so long ago. He'd had dark days before. After Charlie he'd lived in an almost trance like state for a while, refusing to believe it; he'd kept expecting him to walk through the door. But Sam, losing her, the uncertainty of it, that's what had broken what was left of him. He'd not been able to grieve and he couldn't move on. All there was, was rage and terror in every day she was gone. Sometimes he wondered if he'd been feeling her terror, her pain too. His abilities hadn't switched on until a few months into the search, thanks to Daniel. But who knows what had been going on with him for a while since that serum.

All he knew was that he couldn't let it happen again. He couldn't lose another part of his soul. Not ever. He'd barely survived Charlie. The man he'd been, the father, he'd died on the wood floor of his office with his son's blood on his hands. The husband, well, he'd died sometime later. But against all odds, the husband was given new life and he'd squandered it, again. The Universe he knew didn't give out second chances very often, and definitely not thirds. This was his warning and he'd damn well heed it.

"Jack." Sam's voice came to him, her hands clasped around his cheeks; she was talking loudly, her eyes searching his for some sort of recognition. "Jack. Honey. Come back." He blinked staring up at her. "Jack?" she questioned, looking startled and he shook his head slightly.

"Sorry… I was… lost."

Sam didn't comment on that, or take offence that he'd mentally drifted off in the middle of sex. She tried to move but he held her fast. "Just… stay a minute?" he asked and she nodded, sitting herself back down in his lap, keeping him cradled in her warmth.

"You want to talk about it?" she asked hesitantly and he heard the very real thought that she'd like his ability right now. He sighed, he'd agreed after all with her that since he could see in her head, if she asked for a peek into his, then he had to damn well try and be honest about it.

"Not really," he admitted, but he would, as agreed. "I was just dwelling on how close I came to losing you. To losing myself," he revealed. "But this… this is good. This helps. I'm just… just worried that it won't last. That I don't deserve it to last." he choked back something that felt suspiciously like a sob. "Paranoia huh? It's a bitch."

Sam nodded. "Please stop doing that, you don't have to end with a joke, to lighten the mood, sometimes there's no lightening it is there." She leant in and kissed him hard. "I'm here Jack. Don't dwell." she urged.

Defence had always been his weakness… in hockey and in marriage. It plagued him now. "At least I'm thinking about it… processing. You know you haven't done much of that." He brushed his thumb across her cheek but her gaze had shuttered at his words a little. "I'm not trying to get at you but I'm worried. There's only so much space inside you to stuff all those thoughts and feelings Sam, before they erupt," he told her gently, certain that one dark day it would all come out.

Sam's lips pursed as she blinked back tears he knew she didn't want to fall. He gently retreated from her mind, leaving her in peace. "I can't right now," she admitted, "I wouldn't even know how. I just… I have to keep moving, keep to the mission. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be using you as a distraction like this." She began to move off him but he kept her in the circle of his arms.

"I don't mind being the distraction Sam," he bit out. "I'll help you however I can, you know that. But when the time comes, I want you to come to me with it. Let me be there for you. I've not been much of a husband to you out here. Or a CO," he admitted uneasily, seeing her expression shift to mount a defence and he waved it away. "It's true. I couldn't keep you safe or give you an order worth a damn. But I swear to you Sam, if we get back, that will change."

"Is that what you think? That you've let me down." she asked, seemingly incredulous and he looked away unable to see the flash of anger in her eyes. The last thing he wanted was a row.

"I don't know. Maybe," he admitted. "I think I've let myself down."

"No!" she snapped, "You've been Jack O'Neill. If anything you've been every inch the man I fell in love with long before we got here. Believe me, I don't feel disappointment when I look at you. You're inside my head. You know that!" she reminded, clearly frustrated with him.

"I know," he conceded, brushing away the tears he'd made fall from her cheeks with his thumb, "But that doesn't mean I'm not disappointed in me. I can't afford to fail at this again." It was one of the many number of things he loved about her that he didn't need to explain the 'again'. She got that he meant 'at a family', telepathy or not.

"You're not failing," she insisted.

"I almost did."

She cocked her head and stroked his cheek fondly. "I'm a mathematician at heart Jack. There's no almost in my line of work. Just absolutes. You didn't fail. I didn't fail. We didn't fail and we won't. We're still here and we are going home," she told him bluntly; he felt the conviction she broadcast in that statement hit him like a truck.

"And I'm going to see that damn cabin of yours… and you're going to make love to me on the back porch like we planned… and drink cold beers, even if it's snowing," she added with a wink.

"That really might give you a pain in the ass," he pointed out, feeling something like a smile creep across his lips, "Frostbite's a bitch you know."

"I do." She slipped her hand around his neck and drew him in for a longer kiss that left him lightheaded when she was done with him.

"I'm going to marry you properly," he told her firmly.

"You have married me properly," she countered, raising her hand to show the ring, in pride of place. She shifted and the head of him slipped back inside her welcoming heat and he groaned at the eloquent reminder of just where he was and what he was doing – inside his wife. "Or am I being too subtle?" she rasped, biting his lip and following it up with a bruising kiss, feeling him hastily withdraw from her mind at the indignation that flared in her at his statement. She didn't know whether to be touched or irritated that he felt the need to marry her again.

"Fair enough, it was always enough for me, although I was hoping for cake." he grinned, "Big one, multiple tiers with chocolate and pecan… white frosting…" he trailed off as she gave his mouth something else to do other than talk for a minute.

"Shut up, your making me want cake and there's definitely none on board." she growled somewhat aggressively rocking against him more insistently until he could feel himself growing hard inside her again. "If that's for the cake I will very cross with you." she punctuated each word with a nip to his lip and chin and he suppressed a grin.

"Oh its definitely for the cake… I can just imagine that frosting all over your…" her tongue slid into his mouth and she ground down hard against him until he really couldn't give a crap about the cake. Her hips moving to her own rhythm as he slid a hand down to the globe of her glorious ass to help. His head rocked back as she took him on a journey of her own, the slip and slide within her building until all he could feel was white hot pleasure, his own and hers multiplying in his head until he was gasping violently. One drawback to this little ability – it meant he his staying power had somewhat diminished, it wasn't possible to feel her orgasm and not be pushed into his own.

"Oh God… Jesus Sam." he hummed burying his head in her neck and simply breathing together for a moment as they came down.

"Better?" she hummed, tilting his chin up and pressing a slow kiss there.

"Much." he admitted, and it was, a lot of the crap he'd been thinking at miraculously disappeared out of his brain. Sam smiled and slid off him, slipping her suit back on, and assisting his somewhat boneless frame back into his.

"I should get back to work." She admitted, leaning in for a kiss. It was enough of an excuse, and she really didn't want to leave, he could feel that too, as his arm snaked out and wrapped around her waist tugging her in to stand between his legs. He dropped his head to her chest and closed his eyes, the feel of her fingers massaging his scalp. She always seemed to be able to tell when his head was aching a little now. Probably because it always did, but that wasn't the point, and he groaned into her touch like a starved man.

"We need to get you checked out if we do get home. These headaches – they can't be good." she murmured pressing a kiss to the crown.

"Yeah. I'm not so sure how we should go about that anymore." he admitted raising his chin to stare up at her, those blue eyes clouding slightly with concern.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he paused to consider how best to approach this, he'd been dancing around the topic for a few days now. "Say we do get back home… aside from that oh so fun frolic at the cabin you've got planned for us – other than my many tiered cake… I mean after that, what then, what do you think happens to us?"

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Sam quirked an eyebrow at Jack his line of questioning, in fact his whole mood was downright uncharacteristic, although perhaps that was unfair. Jack was far less shallow than he pretended and he was prone to some pretty impressive funks. Being able to see into people's heads, she couldn't imagine was helping him be less introspective. The fact that it was her 'head' bringing him down was making her somewhat more neurotic, and irritable.

"Jack." she tried to say it without a tone, but she was sure one came out from his slight wince. "I'm not psychic. I have no idea what happens at the end of this." She didn't especially want to dwell on the reality of home, of what it might mean, and she'd been doing a bang up job of ignoring the inevitable outcome to her single minded homeward bound mission for the last year or so. Although there was the fear that he might mean with 'them' that popped into her head, which from the alarmed look she caught on his face, meant it had 'popped' into his too she thought with annoyance, deciding she really wasn't fond of mind-reading, even if it had its perks.

He caught her hands in his and pressed a kiss to the knuckles. "You know I don't mean like that. Us is us. We come as a package deal that's a given. I don't care if the President himself has an issue with that. It's non-negotiable," he told her with absolute conviction that had her believing he'd stand on the White House lawn and demand their marriage officiated by the man himself.

"But I'm a little nervous to what it might mean for our daily lives," he added, "I mean – we gotta eat, pay the bills, that means careers I guess." Jack grimaced, "God that sounds so –"

"Mundane?" Sam quirked her lips at him.

"I was going to go with dull… I'm oddly looking forward to it." He paused. "Is that weird."

"Very." Sam replied, "But I know what you mean. It'll make a change to sit at a table with a knife and fork and a warm meal not 200 years old or swimming in radiation, have a conversation about what happened at the work that day."

"To be honest, our work was never all that – dull." Jack replied.

"True." Sam nodded, "But I don't think it was quite the same thing."

"No I suppose not. Running from J'affa's just not quite the same as running from a horde of deranged Ghouls now is it to get the heart pumping – make you just as dead though." he looked up at her, a shrewd look on his face she knew to be concerned about. "But you have to admit we aren't exactly the true-blue soldiers we were. I'm not sure we can, you know… hide the damage anymore?" he admitted. "Pass a psyche test… although, I'll admit I've always struggled with those things."

Sam felt the question like a slap in the face, even if he asked it in his usual nonchalant way. It had been the very thing she'd been avoiding thinking about herself and what was worse, she was certain he'd picked it up from her brain before and couldn't leave it well enough alone. "You don't think we can go back. Do you – even if we physically made it there?" Sam queried. It was the same doubt he himself had admitted to having around the time he got the Minutemen up and running again. Hell, as early as Sanctuary she'd been fighting his notion that there was 'no going home' and if there was a chance it seemed it would be as very different people than the ones that left. In so many ways.

"Well, like I said, it isn't exactly going to be the most subtle fall from grace. Not when I'm likely to start sobbing over a cheeseburger," he pointed out, looking irritated to find that wasn't even an exaggeration.

Sam sighed, sliding her hands down from his face to his shoulders where she squeezed lightly. "Well I don't suppose you've ever exactly been the poster boy for mental health Jack, I read your file."

"True," he admitted, "Although I'm not sure I was ever at the stage of shooting the first person to startle me in the grocery store before now. Or getting palpitations if I leave my gun when I go to the Head."

"Well you're probably right, I'm fairly sure they won't be clearing either of us for active duty," Sam assured him.

He dropped eye contact for a moment. "Sam believe me, I've been way more fucked up than this and I've been given a green light." There was a shadow she felt sweep over him then, and a past that Daniel had shared with her once, about how different the Jack O'Neill he'd met had been, the one plucked off a ledge and aimed at a target on the other side of the Galaxy. She didn't doubt his mental state then had been precarious, but she thought he might be underselling their experiences now and the fragility in them both still, however well the scars had healed over.

"Still it's not quite the same as being able to move things with your mind or read them," she reasoned, certain he was going to be thrown in a cell and poked just for looking twenty years younger, let alone with the rest of his body.

"Yeah, about that." His expression grew pinched and she knew he shared her serious concerns about that, although the scientist in her was curious about the extent of it all. "I'm not sure how well my newest party tricks are going to go down with the Joint Chiefs and those shady Government agencies that like to think their secrets are… well, secret." Jack admitted nervously.

"You don't think we should tell them about your abilities?" Sam asked, her eyes narrowing, but there was no outright protest from that place inside of her that she thought of as her military core. The one that had been rigid and resilient a few years ago, before this place, who would have bristled at the idea of keeping something like this from their commanders, from their country.

"I'm leaning that way," he shrugged, like he wasn't considering committing treason by withholding critical mission data, and information about his own health that might be a risk to the personnel on base and the planet. Her expression must have given away some of her conflicting thoughts on this.

"I'm not saying never tell them Sam!" he snapped, "So you can get your head out of the treason aisle," he protested. "I'm just thinking at least not until we know where we stand." he sighed and leant back a little, for breathing room. "I mean we've got the Asgard home run. I think we need to cash that cheque pretty sharpish. Get some good will and firepower on our side. Worst case scenario, they beam our butts out of there and relocate us somewhere pleasant for saving their grey asses… again!" he proposed; she couldn't argue that as Plan… whatever number they were up to, that one was better than nothing.

"Well as contingencies go, I figure Asgard junk and viable DNA is worth a free ride and relocation service. Not to mention that ZPM and cryolater." He grinned wildly at her, trying to make light of it, but she wasn't biting.

"Jack. The SGC might not even be there," Sam reminded him gently, looking faintly ill at the thought herself.

"I know… God I know. I have those nightmares too," he admitted, reaching up to brush her cheek with his thumbs. She tried to understand the level of cautious paranoia that she was seeing in him, but then he'd always seen the darker side of the Air Force in Black Ops. He knew the lengths their Government could go. Hell, she'd seen it herself. She'd considered it a little while ago, after what they'd done to Teal'c and what had happened to her with Adrian Conroy.

"I won't let them experiment on you. Over my dead body," he told her vehemently and she sighed, pressing a kiss to his palm.

"I didn't say that. But ditto. Besides, mine's a little harder to hide than yours, you can just pretend it never happened. Me though, I'm one scan away from revealing my damn synthetic implants," she reasoned.

"So? They help you walk. Right?" He raised a brow with meaning and she took his point. Their people weren't going to know any better; her implants could do as little or as much as she confessed to.

"You want us to lie." Sam clearly wanted him to say it out loud, to be clear if they were going back with this possibility in play. It was important they were on the same page.

"Not lie. Just withhold potentially critical information until we've assessed whether it's going to land us in a lab or disappeared," he countered, "It's the smart play Sam."

"Fine. Forget passing psyche evals, we'll be lucky if they don't lock us both up in padded cells." Sam pointed out, if they so much as went near some of her PTSD triggers, she was going to find it difficult to mask the whole lot. She wasn't entirely certain what she'd do if anyone tried to stick her in a prison cell or God help them – examine her legs.

"Well, if it helps I could probably get through a psyche eval now," Jack shrugged and tapped his temple with a little smirk, clearly bought on by the thought of never being under the thumb again of a shrink whose mind he could read.

Sam snorted. "Great lie to our friends and family and play the we're only just a smidge over the line on crazy card."

"Hey it's been working well enough for 8 years, why mess with a classic." Jack reasoned.

"And what about the rest of it?" Sam questioned.

"What rest of it?" he asked playing dumb deliberately, which was ballsy given she knew he could read her mind. He was never going to be able to get away with casually misunderstanding her again.

"Well that's a frightening thought." he murmured as if to demonstrate her point and she rolled her eyes.

Sam sighed. "You're really going to make me say it?"

"Say what?" he played dumb anyway despite himself, or in spite of it. She wasn't sure which.

"Jack the biggest obstacle in front of you being accepted back – is you." he gave her a look that suggested he'd never be so obtuse and she caught his chin turning his eyes back on her, trying to keep his attention. "Tell me that if by some miracle we do get accepted back… do you really think you can go back to taking orders again, to listening to suits on the Hill telling you how to run your ops, who to send out to die?" she asked gently and he winced.

"You mean working for 'the Man', if he's not me?" he grunted and she smiled.

"I've been taking orders for years." he muttered. "Hell I've taken Maxson's orders haven't I."

"Not well." Sam replied with a smirk. "Besides, now you look like a thirty year old, back in his prime. They aren't going to let you just retire Jack. People are going to call you 'son' and treat you like your wet behind the ears, even at the SGC where they expect weird stuff like this to happen."

Jack's eyebrows rose. "Oh." He muttered, "That."

"Yes, that." she ran her hand across his smooth unlined features that were still as unfamiliar to her as him.

"Well my face lift aside, I guess we'll have to figure that out when we're there. Unless you're suggesting we pack in Plans A and B and go straight to C – turn this car around and go back to the Castle?" he queried, startled by the suggestion given as Sam had been on a hell-bent mission to get them to this exact point for nearly two years. Her expression suggested loud and clear what she thought of that. So he broached a newer idea. "I mean there's always a D – we find a bigger ship… evacuate what's left of Earth, find somewhere new, better for them." Jack proposed and Sam stilled. They'd never really talked about evacuating his Earth before.

"Jack, you've just read all about the state of play in this Universe, if the Wraith don't get us, these Ori will. Not to mention the Zetan's seem to have a think for experimentation. I'm not sure there 'is' anywhere safe. Maybe that damn irradiated speck is safe, its keeping them under the radar from anything else. God forbid knowing our luck we'd probably introduce the Goa'uld to a whole new host."

Jack shuddered, "No… yeah bad idea I guess." he replied, but he looked a little defeated by the thought that they couldn't even in their imagination help their friends off a dead world. But they'd both known it some time ago, that world had its chance, and it had blown it. The best they could do was get home and see if they could stop there's doing the same – if it hadn't already.

Sam sighed and leant in placing a kiss on her nose. "I love that you want to help, even now. Save the World. But you said it a long time ago, that World's dead. They blew it. You can't save everyone."

Jack looked pained when he stood then to meet her. "I guess we really are different people now then. Used to be a day we'd see that as a challenge, not a reason to give up."

Sam bristled, understanding that this was coming from a dark place of self-loathing in himself and not necessarily with her, but still that comment stung. "Fine, then let me be frank. Because if surviving out here has taught me anything, it's that occasionally, you need to be selfish." she snapped. "I've worked too hard and sacrificed too much of myself and of you, to get us to this point… I can't and I wont' go back. I'm going home Jack. Whether it's ready for me or not. Because we deserve it. We've suffered enough." She felt something close to panic rising in her, her chest tightening and her heart rate rising. Clearly he felt it to because he reached out pressing his chest to hers.

"I got you." he rasped clutching her to him and pressing her mouth to his shirt, calming her breaths in the shallow there. "Just breathe." he soothed, rubbing her back slowly until her breathing calmed as she pulled herself physically and mentally back together before she could look at him. She'd used to pride herself on putting forward her calm and rationale façade, barely putting an insubordinate toe out of line all these years, despite her internal conflict or anxieties about their missions or his decisions. Now this. All her defences were crumbling and he was inside the damn walls, watching it happen.

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Jack felt the turmoil and the panic as Sam began to spiral, the stress she was under now, the conflicting emotions coming close to triggering some sort of panic attack, everything that place had made her twisting and rubbing up against the sensibilities she'd been born and trained to respect. It was enough to tear anyone apart. But he'd put down the nobler side of himself a long time ago when he accepted his first black-ops mission. So he did the only thing he could, he reached out and cradled her face, trying to get her to centre on him and this conversation, not the million 'what ifs' he now knew were firing inside her head. "Sam, it's okay to have second thoughts."

"No its not!" she bit off sharply. "This place makes hell look like a vacation spot… remember?" she prodded. "Except you've never felt that way did you? You make anywhere seem like a possibility." There was a hint of bitterness there and he thought, with irritation, that he felt the shadow of Edora approach. That damn planet! If he could go back and kick his ass for how he'd clearly hurt her with the utter ambivalence he'd shown her after all she'd done. Despite her assurances, she'd never quite gotten over that, probably never would. A part of her would always wonder if he'd rather be there with those damn farmers, living a peaceful life with another simpler woman. Wisely, he thought, he decided not to mention that he knew where her mind was going; if she wasn't bringing it up again then he wasn't either. But he could damn well be honest about what he thought of this Earth.

"Sam, I can make the best of a bad situation. That's a skill, I get it. But it's still a bad situation. So no. I am not having second thoughts. I'm done here… so done," Jack added emphatically. "I'm done with hydrogen bombs… with that constant damn clicking of radiation meters… of monsters that want to tear your face off and eat you… of running and fighting for every scrap of food, clothing or equipment we own! I want somewhere to sleep that doesn't make me wonder if we'll wake up again," he growled. He crowded close to her, their lips brushing as he stared hard unblinking eyes onto her, needing her to hear and understand this next part.

"And I'm so done with people wanting things from us, from you… thinking they can just take you." The 'from me' went unspoken but she clearly heard it and wasn't in the slightest offended to be his. He felt something equally possessive rise in her towards him and he felt that primitive part of him that he was sure was a little closer to the surface ever since they'd been 'Touched' beat it's chest. God damn it felt good to be hers.

"Besides, don't you think this conversation is … and I hate to use a cliché… a little 'like trying to shut the doors after the horse has bolted'?" he asked and she quirked her lips.

"For a man that doesn't like cliché's, you do use a lot," she pointed out and he opened his mouth to protest, only for her to press a finger to it.

"I take your point. But I need you to understand Jack that I'm not forcing us this time. I've done what I needed to. I've found us a valid option off world. A chance, however small, of getting home. But if you don't want to take it… if you want to stay… then I'd stay for you," she promised and he felt the conviction of her desire to not be his regret, knowing how he liked to know all the variables and that this Hail-Mary pass of theirs was by no means a sure thing.

When he didn't immediately respond she rushed on nervously, as if taking his silence to be a sign of his doubts. "Jack, it's okay to admit that you could have made a home here and you'll miss it. I just don't want you to get back to a world that's moved on without us and find that we don't belong there. I just don't want you to regret it," Sam continued. 'Regret us' she added internally and he felt something snap at the damn lunacy of that comment.

Jack reached out and pressed a palm over her wildly beating heart. He couldn't do much about all of the fears and doubts she held inside but he would do his darndest to fix this one. "Sam. I've got you. That's the only home I need. There's no regretting that," he countered and leant in, pressing a kiss to her lips that left them both breathless when she pulled back, her heart beating wildly for a different reason now.

"Good answer," she conceded feeling as fond as she was irritated by what she thought of as his charm offensive.

"I thought so," he smiled quietly, brushing a thumb over her lips tenderly. "How about we get back first? We'll work on fitting in when we know there's somewhere left to fit. Besides, we've seen the worst the Universe has to offer and got through it. By rights, anything else should be a cake walk," he said with a confidence he didn't entirely feel any more.

"Okay," she conceded, bowing to his superior logic in this. He marvelled at how she was able to internally park the nagging doubts, willing to wait until the moment they stepped out onto the ramp of the Gate room to confirm them or not.

"Okay." He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Jack opened his mouth to make some sarcastic comment about Daniel when they were suddenly lurched sideways and out of hyperspace. Sam just about caught herself on him chest before they landed in a tangled heap. Jack groaned and she winced with a mouthed 'sorry' as she extracted her knee from where it had connected with his balls, scrambling to her feet whilst he made his slower way up.

Alarms were blaring, not the good kind, with strobe lighting.

"Proximity alert!" Sam yelled, getting to her feet in one ever-so-slightly too fluid movement, which he watched for a split second and was momentarily struck dumb, he wondered if that would ever get old, seeing her move like that. He hoped not, because she was magnificent, but then he'd always thought that.

"What hit us?" he asked, reaching for a control crystal himself.

"Nothing hit us. But something's yanked us out of hyper speed. We're responding to an overwriting control signal," she pointed and Jack read it.

'Return home.' He'd translated without trying, which was frankly disturbing.

"Are we broadcasting a distress signal?" he asked hastily, flipping through console commands to look for it.

"Possibly. If we did, it's more like a silent alarm than a beacon. Someone knows we have the ship and shouldn't. We've been pinged. It's coming for us and we're dead in the water." Sam jostled the commands. "There's a central override in the scout ship."

"Well… can you override it?"

Sam glared at him as she dropped down under the console. "They're hailing us."

"Really?" he asked as he watched an almighty Battleship seemed to appear out of nowhere right across their port side.

"Distract them. This may take a few minutes," Sam instructed with her buried beneath the panels and he grimaced.

"Right." He punched in the console command to open the channel and was met by a violent set of sounds and more hissing than he'd ever heard the Asgard make. "Hello?" He tapped the crystal, "This thing on?"

There was a burst of static and an angry warble and more hissing. "Any idea what they're going on about?" he asked Sam and she tutted up at him, her thoughts clear enough on what she thought of that 'dumb ass question'.

"You're the one that understands the language," she hissed back, "How would I know?"

"I just… I'm used to you or Daniel doing this sort of thing on spaceships," he admitted, feeling at a loss as he flipped toggles. Apparently the written language he could translate but the spoken – not so much. He found a button that seemed to provide subtitles to the transmission.

He read it and winced. "Oh." Comprehension dawning.

"What?" she chirped up at him, sounding suspicious.

"Nothing. How long did you say you needed?" he asked, eyes on the message and the readouts that suggested they were priming weapons.

"Don't let them shoot my ship Jack!" Sam growled in warning at him and he shrugged helplessly down at her. Now he knew how she felt when he just expected her to pull a technological miracle out of her ass. Frustrating wasn't the word.

"Right. I'll just try some diplomacy. I'm good at that don't yah know!" Sam didn't respond but she'd got half the console out on the floor, so he figured she might be too distracted to hear.

He pulled up the comms link and sent out a holographic 'him' into the mothership. Patting himself down, he turned and grinned amiably, taking in some fairly severe and pissed looking Vanir on a ship about thirty seconds from breaching their shields and sending them to kingdom come.

"Howdy." He gave them a salute. "I'm Jack O'Neill, planet Earth. Not this Earth mind. Another one. A better one. We have little grey men… Thor and his buddies… much nicer clientele our way." He gazed at beady black eyes in green skinned faces that bore slightly more expression than the normal Asgard, mostly hostile as they sneered at him.

"You stole our vessel." They responded, in English, which he was faintly surprised at and mostly grateful for.

"Now you see…" he shook his head, "…that's a simple cultural misunderstanding right there. What we did was fix a ship and return it to you," he declared. They shared a confused look amongst themselves and he was quite proud of that. "And on the way to returning it, we're taking it for a little unscheduled pit stop. Then you can pick it up, quick as you like. No harm, no foul. Not stealing. Perfectly understandable mistake to make. Could happen to anyone."

"Silence!" A tall one to his right sneered and Jack cocked his head at him.

"You know, I wish I could, but not even my wife's learnt that trick and she's been really motivated," he quipped, enjoying the spark of ire he could see building in the aliens, and hear in Sam. They weren't like the Asgard at all. These ones knew when he was blowing smoke up their collective asses.

"We do not share technology!" said the one bang in the middle with some sort of black combat suit on stood. Jack craned his neck up; he didn't like the tall green alien part of this equation.

"You're a lot taller than your Asgard buddies," he noted.

"We are not the Asgard," was the predictable response. He added 'easily offended' to his list of observed traits.

"Yeah, I see that. For one thing, they were better at this whole 'first contact' schtick."

"You are not the first. We know your race," another hissed and Jack rolled his eyes. 'Lack of sense of humour' added to the list. Although to be fair, that was a shared trait with the Asgard.

"Oh cool. Me too. Before or after they blew themselves up?" he quipped, Sam gave him a sideways look as she emerged from the console to hit more buttons on the top, staying out of the viewer. 'Play nicely' he got from her thoughts and he winked at her.

"You are Alteran." The green alien that had got all offended about being labelled Asgard spoke up. He was jabbing at the console, showing the others whatever it was his readings were telling him when they'd scanned the ship. Jack glanced down at the console; if this mothership had a teleport then Jack suspected they were about to be beamed aboard. These assholes favoured probing too.

"Sort of, yes." he acknowledged. He supposed it was a little more accurate a statement than usual at the moment. "Was doing a little sightseeing with the wife. Got a bit stranded." He pointed in Sam's general direction.

"So pals… allies if you will… we have a nifty alliance don't we?" he asked hopefully. Hell, diplomacy was always worth a shot. Maybe he'd gotten them wrong. "How about you say this was you rendering us some aid to get us where we need to go and we'll hand you back your ship. No harm, no foul. I bet your big fancy mothership is faster than our dinky little one. You could get us there in no time!" He rubbed his hands gleefully with the prospect.

"The Alliance was brokered in a time of peace," it hissed, it looked smug; he wasn't sure how he could tell that but he was quite sure it was smug.

Jack winced. "And I'm guessing this isn't one of those times?" he put out there and the damn thing grinned; it had teeth, sharp black ones. Very un-Asgard like.

"We will take back that ship Alteran," it threatened, "And we will use your bodies as an example to all Alterans that believe they can return and invade our territory!"

"I think that's enough chatting." He hastily cut the comms link on hearing Sam's triumphant thoughts as she wrestled the override off and regained control of their ship, setting it back into hyperspace and powering them away like their lives depended on it, which Jack thought was probably the case.

He stepped back from the console. "Well. They seem nice."

"They're chasing us," Sam muttered, not dignifying his sarcasm with a response.

"In hyperspace?" Jack questioned, glancing at the read outs.

"Yes. When we reach the planet we won't be alone. God damn it!" Sam exclaimed, right before putting her foot through something that looked important. Jack flinched and stepped back. "We've worked so hard. These assholes! Jack, we can't let them stop us!" She looked at him and he nodded. He'd said he'd do anything. Apparently taking on a mothership of pissed-off Vanir was on his 'to do' list for today.

"We've not got much in the way of weapons other than the ion canon that's not going to hit much in hyperspace…" he sounded out, "…and I'm assuming they're mostly immune to their own. Plus theirs are way bigger."

Sam shook her head. "We have you!" Oh he liked the confidence but not so much that he might have to pony up, so to speak. He'd only just got his head to stop ringing after that floating power core stunt followed by the tsunami wave – this was going to sting.

"I'll see what I can do to slow them down. If I rig the shield oscillator and they get close enough, I may be able to get it to emit a pulse that can distort their communications and tracking. They'd be flying blind… at least for a few minutes. It may be enough for us to lose them by dropping out of hyperspace and re-entering it somewhere else."

"So you want me to let them close, but not too close?"

Sam glanced up at him "You read my mind," she smirked and he rolled his eyes.

"I see what you did there."

"I'm counting on it." She gave him a smirk, "In the meantime, there's a transponder somewhere buried in the systems. I found the obvious one but I clearly underestimated them and their possessiveness about their things. It's still transmitting our location. I need you to find it whilst I work on the shields."

Jack glanced at the consoles. "Right," he glanced back at her, "You sure there's not something I can go hit with a rock instead?" he asked, a little nervous that this plan rested on his ability to traverse an alien system looking for something pinging. Sam slid her hand to his cheek as she hurried past him.

"I have faith," she promised, and he deliberately didn't look too hard past the surface thoughts; he was happy with that confidence, if a little bemused that it was focused on his ability to navigate alien tech, and born slightly of desperation. He got that he wasn't up for rewiring alien crystals. Then she was gone, disappearing back to the rear of the ship and he was alone staring at consoles.

"Well shit," he growled and took a seat.

It was like reading one of Sam's textbooks, or field reports – the ones with the extra juicy jargon in it. He might understand the words but the meaning, well, that was an entirely different story. He monitored the approaching ship and was relived to note that they were close enough to fire and weren't. So his retained tactical info that they were unable to shoot at them in hyperspace was holding out, although they were slowly gaining on them. Sam might have boosted this ship's engines but they were still trying to outrun a car with a bicycle on an open road. The moment they dropped out into normal space they'd be dead to rights, with these assholes right up their backsides unless Sam could do something about it.

"Any idea what this damn beacon program will look like?" he hollered into the back. "I mean, am I looking for a file that says 'come get me alarm'?" There was no response. "Sam! A little help here!" he barked and focused inwards; he heard her muttering in her head. There was a tool in her mouth and she was buried halfway in a panel – bad time clearly.

Then he got a very clear mental image of a string of what he took to be computer code – okay!

"Thank you!" he barked back, hearing a clang and swearing following a spark that he hastily ignored, worried he'd be blamed for that.

He found the code string he'd seen in Sam's head. Now what? He looked around for a handy delete button. Nothing became apparent so he just started, fudging with it. When in doubt and all that – fiddle. Either way, when he was done it wasn't recognisably the code, programme or whatever the hell it was that Sam had shown him.

"Okay… I did something to it!" he yelled back to the sound of more banging. She was clearly having to rework something, which sounded more like a 'him' job. "Oy, I told you I'd prefer the hitting things with rocks job!" He stood just as they decelerated and he ended up with a face full of wall about ten feet from where he was. Ow.

He dragged himself over the console just in time to see Sam hurry in. The ship lurched violently and he wound up against the ceiling, or what he realised had once been the ceiling and now appeared to be the floor. His ability cushioned the blow somewhat but made his head sore instead, so he wasn't sure that was an upside.

"What did you do?!" she snapped at him, not seemingly at all phased that the up and down had been reversed, she leapt off a console and hung, what looked to him like upside down, to access the console in the sky.

"I did what you told me to. I broke something!" he countered, admiring her dexterity and admitting the woman really had been born for space travel.

"The gravity generators!" she groaned. "Jack, how in God's name did you manage to link the code for their distress beacon to the damn gravity generators? They aren't even in the same function, let alone the same command sequence."

"Lucky guess?" he stared up at her and she shook her head. "Bright side… we're not in hyperspace. Right?"

"No Jack. The ship wisely aborted that when the gravity failed," Sam snapped at him, looking increasingly alarmed the more she stared at the console, which was unnerving coming from her.

"See problem solved," he groused, irritated that this clearly wasn't going anywhere near their Plan A. It had skipped right on down the alphabet to F.

"If by solved you mean you linked their homing beacon to critical ship's systems, preventing it from being turned off without this happening. Then yes… solved."

Jack sighed. "I told you to let me do the hitting things with heavy objects job."

"I don't even know how you did this," she said, or thought, he wasn't sure at this point. She was ranting in and out of her head. 'I thought his mind had gone Ancient again. How did he even do this?'

"Well my brain didn't get that memo," he replied and she pursed her lips ignoring him, which meant she'd only thought that one. He sighed – he wasn't supposed to respond to those private rants. "Sam, just because I can read the damn recipe, doesn't mean I can bake you souffle!"

"Noted," she snapped, then the ship righted itself and he saved himself with his mind from faceplanting into the console. Neat! He didn't know he could levitate. Then again, he'd never catapulted himself towards a floor before to feel motivated enough into trying.

"Well, you bought us time." Sam spun; she hadn't noticed the trickle of blood from his nose, which he thought was probably for the best as he stood up swiping it. "Brace yourself," she instructed, just in time for the ship to slam into hyperspace and send him crashing back into a seat, which he was now glad she'd insisted on welding into the floor. They should really install seatbelts.

"Rough ride this. So did you finish making a little shield bomb?" Her eyes rounded on him, irritation sparking and he held his hands up like a shield. "I'm trying but this is really not my wheelhouse." Her expression softened for a second as she admitted that to herself and he tried not to be hurt that she missed Daniel in these situations; he had more of a knack.

"It'll give us a short blast, once, maybe twice. But they'll have to be literally on top of us because I can't boost the power more than that. I can't risk frying the circuits. We need the power for the Gate," she explained.

"Okay. So how much time do you reckon our little emergency break bought us?" Jack asked. Sam ran her hands through her hair.

"I don't know. They could be hundreds of light years away now. It will take a while to rescan, and maybe, just maybe, they might not be able to track us if they didn't enter the same hyperspace window. Honestly, I've not seen their full systems. Just this scout ship which has limited capability. The Asgard could track us like that but they're not the Asgard. I'd say maybe twelve hours… twenty four if we're lucky."

"Okay, so what I'm hearing is we should grab some food whilst we have the chance." At least he could feed her and it had to be around dinner time, or so his stomach informed him. Besides, before all this alien invasion excitement, they had just burnt off a few calories he figured.

"Food… now?" She quirked an eyebrow as he reached into a pack and started taking out the remaining supplies. They'd bought enough for a week – just in case. He was really hoping her initial estimations of two to three days would do it because she really shouldn't be forced to ration further. They'd only just managed to get her back up to fighting weight.

"What? We had some banter… some feelings got shared. There was a lot of sex and even a bit of danger getting my adrenalin pumping. We did some fancy ceiling acrobatics. Now I'm famished," he countered, slapping some dehydrated noodles onto the console. He set up the little portable stove; it didn't run on gas, or coal, so he tried real hard not to think about what was inside all that lead casing, in its quite compact frame. It gave the term 'nuking the food' a whole other meaning.

"I suppose I've had worse dates," Sam sighed and slid into the pilot seat, her legs tucked up beneath her.

"That's the spirit." He leant over and took her hand, giving it a kiss and patting it gently as he put it back on the table to continue his food rummage. She laughed lightly at him which he found encouraging; he felt both of their minds switch gear slightly as the adrenalin spike dissipated, but they were both still a little keyed up, waiting for the next inevitable thing.

"So… Samantha," he sighed around a mouthful of rehydrated cardboard and dishwasher tasting water that was masquerading as soup. "We still on for that proper date? I promised you fancy Italian if I'm not mistaken. Pizza… dripping heart attack levels of cheesy goodness I think it was."

"With olives." She finished a spoonful of her soup and shuddered, taking a swill of recycled water just to help.

Jack winced at the thought of olives. He'd sort of hoped she'd forgotten about those. "Sure… I mean, you can have your own pizza if you're going to ruin it." He gave her a look and she smirked, reaching out for his hand again, playing with the rough skin on his knuckles for a moment, lost in thought.

"Do you still think we'll make it in one piece? I hadn't counted on the Vanir tailing us the whole way," she asked, sounding hesitant in putting odds on it herself.

"They do seem a bit bent out of shape. They should probably put some sort of 'hands off our stuff' warning on the outside of these babies," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. He could hear the anxiety building inside her. This was on her list of variables but it had been way down the list that she'd considered. If he was honest, he'd put hostile aliens scuppering plans a little higher up his list because cause that always seemed to happen when they got in a spaceship.

"We'll make it," he told her, "And if not, we let them bring us on board… 'cause they clearly want this ship back and to punish us personally. Then… when we're on board… we kick their asses."

"Ah, solid plan."

"It is. And they actually have some form of ass this time. Matches the front junk," he grinned.

"They have clothing. So I'm fine with whatever they've got down there," Sam conceded; he couldn't help but chuckle at her internal musings about the Asgard's tendency to be buck naked everywhere.

"Sam." He gripped the hand he still held in his and brought it to his lips. "We've got this. One way or another, we're getting to that damn planet."

0000000000000000000000

"I don't got this!" Jack bellowed back at her as she was trying to keep her mind and ears primed for the signal that they were in range for the shield oscillator to do its job. They'd had eighteen hours of peace before the Vanir had found them; they'd bought two ships this time, which meant, unless she got absurdly lucky, that this was only going to deal with one of them.

"Just wait until they're in range!" she instructed from the operations console, where she'd patched through her shield controls, ready to surge.

"And do what? Moon out the window at them?" he snapped, clearly agitated by the fact that there was nothing for a pilot to do in hyperspace, other than watch as the blips got closer.

"Well it couldn't hurt… and it would certainly cheer me up," she shot back, hearing him tut something at her.

Then the Vanir fired. Two missiles of some kind of plasma signature heading directly for them. Apparently they weren't looking to take prisoners. They meant to obliterate them.

"Why are their weapons working in hyperspace?!" Jack snarled, glancing back at her, clearly as surprised by it as she was. He got to his feet, dancing back and forth between the consoles, clearly dearly wishing to start pushing buttons, which she'd expressly forbidden after the gravity incident.

"I don't know!" she snapped back, her own fear fuelling her anger. "Sit down before they hit." These assholes might just blow them out of the sky and not bother trying to capture them at all.

"Oh yes, cause the seat with no seatbelt is really going to help," he scoffed and with his eyes fixed on the screen, he held his hand out, a faint tremor in it as though he was straining.

"What are you doing?!" she asked alarmed.

"Helping!" he snapped tersely, the vein in his forehead practically bulging and a trickle of blood starting to weave its way from his eye. Heart in her throat, Sam turned back to the console; she had no power over whatever Jack was doing but she could still carry out the original plan.

Her eyes on the ships and the missiles, she was alarmed and frankly astonished when one seemed to lose trajectory and veered violently back and away, impacting off the other missile and creating an almighty explosion that rocked their ship. The hyperspace window shuddered and the alarms blared. For a heart-stopping moment she thought they might be tossed out of the hyperspace window. She watched as that exact thing happened to the Vanir ship that had been closest. They ricocheted off their trajectory and were little more than a smear along the hyperspace corridor with another blast of energy in the resulting explosion which jostled their shields. Sam frantically worked her power systems, trying to divert to the aft shields in an attempt to keep the worst of it from them. Jack slumped forward suddenly with a cry, just as the ship lurched to the right out of the blast wave.

Jack was conscious. She reached over, pressing a hand to his forehead and taking in his slightly glazed expression as he gave her a weak thumbs up. He'd need a minute she interpreted, with growing concern as to the physical toll this ability of his took. Sam had to focus on the ship still chasing them which was wisely hanging back, but that also meant that her shield oscillator was useless. Her best bet might be their last chance; when they both began to exit hyperspace in orbit of the planet, she could slow their exit vector until the last moment and then hit them with it to disrupt their comms. At least then they might be blind coming out, which could give them a few minutes at best. Although what the hell happened after that she wasn't sure. If they kept running they'd burn too much fuel. They needed to be on the planet.

"Drop out early. Fry their systems and drop back in," Jack grunted out and Sam snapped her eyes to him.

"If we waste the blast on the oscillator we might not get another shot," Sam countered.

"We don't need another shot. They outgun us. We need time on that damn planet, right?"

He was right. Sam glanced down at the console. "Okay, dropping us out of hyperspace in 5,4,3,2,1."

The Vanir followed, exiting hyperspace almost a few moments after they did. "Shit. They're keeping their distance," she growled, cycling up the engine again. "We can draw them in if they want to jump into our hyperspace corridor." She was speaking more to herself than to Jack as she kept punching in commands and he sat there watching the monitor, and whatever else it was his other senses could detect. As she'd hoped, the Vanir ship prioritised following rather than shooting them, knowing as she did that the engines couldn't keep this up. They only had to wait them out.

So they came closer, skipping into their hyperspace window just as Sam engaged the oscillator. It rippled out and hit the Vanir shields the moment they breached the window. The sensors detected the complete disruption, then suddenly they were blessedly alone in a hyperspace corridor.

"Yes!" Jack punched the air, "Got em."

Sam nodded. "For now. They'll be back."

"Said with no hint of irony," he bit back and she gave him an eye roll. "What?" he shrugged "It's a classic for a reason."

Her eyes scanned over his face; he had almost knocked himself unconscious moments ago. "Are you…?" she began and he waved her concern away, stopping her from finishing the sentiment.

"I'm fine. It was a bit like hitting a brick wall – at mach 10" he dismissed and she reached over and ran her hand across his forehead and into his hair tenderly for a few seconds.

"You sure?" she asked, wanting the truth not some bravado.

"I will be. Apparently, hitting something travelling at faster than the speed of light with your head hurts."

Sam barked out a laugh. "Oh God Jack… why are you impossible?" There was a definite hint of hysterical relief in that tone she noted to herself, irritated with her lack of composure, but then they were so close. It would be just like Jack to sacrifice himself to get her over the line and she wasn't having that; no way, no-how.

"Just lucky I guess." His eyes dropped to the console. "So we got what? A few hours and we're planet side?"

"An hour or so. I just have to hope that little jolt fried their systems long enough for them to miss our hyperspace window and slow them down. I need a bit of time planet side to get this working. I'm sorry but I'll need your help." She glanced at him, hoping he got her meaning by 'help'. He looked a little green at the prospect of using his ability again and she wished there was another way but given the time and conditions, it would be difficult as it was. She couldn't imagine what they'd have done without it; she supposed they'd have gotten by. Jack merely nodded and she felt a part of her gut twist uneasily. She resolved to force him to use that part of him as little as possible from now on.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Besides, we lost them for eighteen hours before. Let's hope our luck holds up," Jack added, somewhat optimistically in Sam's opinion, because honestly, when had their luck ever held up out here? Although they were alive, so maybe it had after all. Sam leant over to where he sat, sliding her hand to his jaw and placing a deep and meaningful kiss on his lips.

"What was that for?" he asked a little breathlessly as she withdrew.

"Just in case," she explained, stroking her thumb across his chin and retreating to her console. Because there was the very real possibility that if this all went wrong, she might never get to kiss him again and that seemed almost unthinkable to her after fighting so hard to reach this point.

Sam dropped them out of hyperspace at the coordinates for this Universe's equivalent of P4M-523,or Far Harbour as Jack called it. According to the Vanir's star charts, it was an uninhabited rock, unable to support life; just as she'd suspected without the Goa'uld terraforming for human farming. Her breath caught as it appeared on their sensors. Jack must have heard the sudden uptick in her thoughts.

"I take it that's bad?"

Sam glanced sideways at him and pulled the planet's image up on the holographic viewer, giving him a moment to absorb quite how bad.

"Ah crap," he muttered and ran a frustrated hand through his hair as they stared at the image of a planet that was quite a way off its original axis, probably due to the meteor shaped hole that had been blasted on one side.

"I'll need to recalculate our spatial coordinates. God, I hope it's not too far off or this won't work Jack," she informed him needlessly; he was clearly getting it all in stereo from inside her head based on his grim and slightly glazed expression.

"You just do that quietly and I'll try not to have my brain melt out my ears," he muttered. "On the bright side, no Vanir," he pointed out scanning the surrounding space. 'Small mercies,' Sam thought.

He pulled up the console and clicked through the data feeding back through the Vanir sensors. "So no surprises. The planet is inhospitable and was toxic even before it got Armageddon-ed." He glanced over at the Power Armour suits she'd insisted they bring. "So I guess it's good we came prepared. Your omniscience is as freaky as ever on that." Sam noted he sounded more impressed than exasperated.

She gave him a sideways look. "You doubted my omniscience?" she grinned and he flipped her off. "I told you back when we landed in Sanctuary two years ago that if there were no Goa'uld in this Universe then, based on Daniel's research, the chances of this planet having been terraformed was remote. Which also means the planet is pray to natural disasters they might have otherwise averted… like a giant damn asteroid," she muttered, which she admitted to herself she hadn't factored into her calculations. At least the planet was still mostly here. She wasn't sure she'd have liked their chances trying to do this from the ship floating in a debris field.

"Hey, as far as I'm concerned you're the Great and Powerful All Knowing Oz. I'm Dorothy here. Besides, that night you mentioned, I think I was a little too preoccupied given as we snuggled under a starry sky in my man cave on top of Sanctuary… I mostly remember that," he pointed out, giving her an eyebrow waggle that she really shouldn't still find sexy in the slightest, but then he had been in that seat making her come hard enough to see stars only a few hours ago. He swallowed sharply, his eyes on hers as he clearly picked up on that thought and she smirked.

"You know… you keep pretending to be this shallow and you might find yourself snuggling alone," she sniffed; he just stared at her, the hard one that always flustered her when he let some of the devil in his dark eyes out. She flushed slightly and looked away, his look screamed 'Still got it.'

"The modified power suits aside, if for some reason they fail, I'm fairly sure I can extend the ship's shields to cover both us and the Gate." She tapped the console with her fingers, "It would probably help anyway to regulate the power requirements of the beryllium core within such a confined area. Truth be told, I'm already slightly concerned the potential feedback might blow the plasma cannon before I get a chance to target the beam inside the matter stream," she rambled and he merely nodded looking cutely perplexed.

"Sam, just for the record, you do realise that if I ever get stuck off world, I'm literally screwed. Because there's no way in hell I could do half the shit you do to get us back," he pointed out.

"So don't get stuck off world again," she countered, "I'd be fine," she shrugged dropping that in with some degree of snark and he chuckled back.

"Oh yeah. Next time, I'm not even going to bother worrying. I'll just stick my feet up, relax and wait for you to rescue yourself or come get me," he joked and she smiled despite herself with a shake of her head. God, she hoped this doesn't change if they did get home. She wasn't sure she could go back to a time when they choked on all that they couldn't say to one another until it was hugely uncomfortable. She sighed. She supposed that had been the point of his remark; keep her focussed on thoughts of getting home, anything other than the busted planet in the viewer. She reached over to the console and threaded her fingers through his, letting herself just be Sam for a moment rather than the hard-ass she sometimes had to be out here.

"We're nearly home," she rasped and then caught herself before her entire hard-assed façade crumbled.

"I know Sam," he murmured and squeezed her hand back. "You'll get us there. Never doubted it."

She nodded. "Then that makes one of us."

It wasn't as bad as she'd feared. The planet was a mess though. Had they not bought the suits, there'd be no way they could have stepped foot on the planet. The atmosphere had all but bled away with the asteroid's impact. It was a slowly freezing rock, decaying out of its orbit. She instructed Jack to pilot them down to a relatively flat area, on the still intact side of the planet, that she hoped would be stable enough. Their ship touched down and they got to work, stepping into their Power Armour frames with practiced ease and out onto what seemed to be yet another Wasteland. The pressure seals held up in the near vacuum and despite the screaming alarm, which she silenced, the suits seemed to hold up fine. Apparently, she could add 'modified space suits' to her list of skills.

"You know, I said it before and I'm saying it again… Apocalypse Universe," Jack muttered under his breath as he got a boot down on the blackened and iced over surface, admiring his boot-mark in the unspoilt dusty ground.

In some ways it was incredibly helpful not to have to say a word, just to think and have Jack react innately to her every need as they worked seamlessly and efficiently to unload the Stargate. The Gate itself wasn't all that heavy, particularly with the limited gravity of the planet, but it was certainly easier to get it down from where they'd secured it to the ship using Jack's abilities. She'd wanted to limit the use of them but Jack had reminded her that they were expecting a Vanir battleship to appear in orbit at any moment.

It also meant, by leaving him to unload the Gate, she could focus on setting up the cannon with the core to deliver the charge at exactly the right frequency, yield and distance from the event horizon of the open Gate, which should, so long as everything else was as she expected, shift the wormhole to their Universe. Had she not had about two years to work out the calculations, it was something she'd wouldn't have stood a chance in hell of doing in an hour. Fortunately her work remained intact in her recovered PipBoy. With some minor adjustments for the planet's new axis, she figured she could get it up and running in that time.

Particularly with the help of the Vanir computer's and advanced scanners. They had quite in depth information about this Galaxy, including the blackhole she'd been slightly alarmed to realise had been the missing part of her equation. It sat somewhere between this planet and Earth – in both Universes – which explained how a relatively simple energy blast had created such a massive distortion in the matter stream. She'd had to make quite a few adjustments to ensure that she was able to warp the wormhole to the exact degree she'd need.

"Sam." Jack's voice startled her for a moment and she turned to glance at him from her calculations. "You sure this won't… oh I don't know… suck the Earth, either one of them, into that blackhole?" He sounded faintly alarmed to be discovering the role a blackhole was about to play in their rescue. Perhaps that was a drawback to him reading her mind she realised; sometimes she forgot to tell him things as she just assumed he knew.

Rolling her eyes at his faint hysteria, bought on by what he was clearly seeing as a nasty surprise, she turned back to the plasma weapon she'd liberated from the Institute and had converted into a cannon, which would overload when charged with the beryllium power core at the right moment.

Jack was still waiting. She could almost feel him inside her head, not quite pressing but nudging. Irritation crept into her answer. "Oh it'll definitely do that!" she replied sharply at him, her words dripping sarcasm. "Probably cause universal collapse of the entire Galaxy, if not the multiverse. I thought it would be fun to add 'Destroyer of Universes' to my moniker." She gave him a shit eating grin, "Catchy isn't it?"

He pointed a metal enclosed finger at her. "Don't sass me Samantha," he growled, "And for the record, I'm not hysterical." She could almost imagine the affronted face he was pulling behind the mask at that insinuation. "We have bad form for blackholes. I recall having to power pull my way out of the last one you made me explode a bomb in front of," he growled, his modulated voice behind his armour taking it down a few more octaves into something guttural and making her stomach flutter even as it sobered at a memory of the team they'd lost on that planet. At the time, his sharp rebuke of her scientific curiosity in the face of human suffering had stung more than she'd cared to admit. That had been one of the first times she'd realised her hard-ass CO wasn't as hard as he proclaimed.

"Yes Sir," she muttered, trying to ignore the shiver that title evoked down her spine, though that might have just been the nerves. She took his point; the blackhole she'd discovered a few weeks ago on scanning the Vanir database for P4M-523 had been both a blessing and a curse given as things like physics tended to break around them, and she was somewhat relying on the laws of the 'known' Universe to get them home.

"Let's hope it's not as dead as here on the other end," he added and she froze momentarily as he finally voiced the fear that had been clamouring inside both their heads for some time. After all, they'd not left their world in the best of positions. What with the threat of Anubis still lingering and the very real and terrifying notion of her Replicator self committing to full scale war on the Goa'uld. Who knew what could have happened in the two years they'd been gone? Given what had happened to them, well, she was trying to remain cautiously optimistic. But first things first. She had to get them there. They'd deal with the rest of it after that monumental hurdle.

"Hey," Jack rasped from behind her before laying his hand on her shoulder, giving it a metal encased squeeze that her sensors registered on her HUDS up display inside the helmet. "It'll work. It's your plan remember?" he assured her and she stared at the metal faceplate hiding his face from her. She hoped it wasn't just an empty platitude on his behalf.

"I'm pleased you have such faith in me Jack, but contrary to your beliefs, I can't actually walk on water," she added quietly, a little sharper than she meant to let slip out but the nerves were starting to crowd in now.

"Shame. It would go so well with that omniscience of yours," he sighed. She almost wished he was being sarcastic but got the impression he was being deadly serious. "One thing I don't get… well no, I don't get most of it but… why can't we just go to the Alpha site? Or any planet. Preferably one that avoids a blackhole. Why risk Earth at all?"

Sam sighed in exasperation. He didn't get it, despite their numerous conversations back at Nuka World as he helped her to get the modifications in place to the ship and cannon. "Jack… please… just trust me on this. It has to be Earth we gate into. I only know the relative time frequency within the vortex for a trip between this planet and the gate on Earth. That's seven point seven seconds, based on the information stored in the Gate's buffer about our last trip through," she explained tersely; they didn't have time for him to second guess a key component now, and it wasn't helping her anxiety any.

"It won't work between anywhere else. Not with what I have. I've recreated the conditions exactly to reverse the phenomena that bought us here," she told him, getting slightly irate now with his sudden need to understand when there was a Vanir mothership breathing down their necks. "It's why I bought us all this damn way out here. If I could have just dialled the gate from Earth, or any one of the dozen planets we passed on the way here, don't you think I would have?!" she snapped feeling the pressure closing in from all sides. There was still so much that could go wrong, even aside from the Vanir showing up to blow them all to hell.

"Sam, I get that we're in a hurry but this planet is barely where it was and the Gate is definitely not. Hell, I couldn't tell you where we landed back on old P4M the first time!" he pointed out sounding about as pissed as she'd heard him in a while, which would be fine if she had the time.

"Sam!" he barked getting in her face and bringing her wandering attention back to him. "I can't step through if we're endangering our Earth, you know that. Please… humour me here," he pleaded, but there was a General's tone in there too and she felt her spine straighten a little, conditioned to listen to his orders when he gave them. Damn him.

Sam glared. "If you'd listened with this head," she flicked his helmeted forehead with a clang, "instead of the one in your pants the first time I explained this to you, you would have understood and I wouldn't be stuck here explaining it to you for the third time when I really need to focus on my final checks," she snapped as unbidden memories popped into her head of the first time she'd explained it, back in the Nuka World, her 'nerd speak' had resulted in him pressing her back against a wall a few words in and she'd lost entirely her train of thought before she could finish.

"The location of the Gate before isn't important. It's based on planetary alignment for the coordinates to work. Which is why Gates can be dialled from spaceships in orbit… remember." His helmeted head nodded. "The location of the planet… that's what matters. Imagine the wormhole is a bridge between here and Earth and beneath that bridge is a blackhole. If we can get a big enough charge building and focused over the top of the wormhole bridge, the shockwave will bow the bridge down towards the blackhole."

"And that's good because?" he growled, "I thought the idea was not to fall into them!"

"Because physics breaks down in a wormhole! If we can detonate an explosion in that position, the 'bridge'…" she air quoted "… will be blown off its anchors either side. The anchor being this Universe. The bridge… and so the wormhole… should still be intact and connected to Earth, but hopefully in a whole different Universe. Our Universe." She sighed, "Of course it's not really a bridge and it's not really being warped down. It's just a metaphor but hopefully you get the point."

"Okay… so, bow the bridge and we can still skip to the other side and the other side's going to be our real Earth. But Sam… we've been gone two years. No way in hell are they letting us through that iris, GDO code or not!" Jack countered and Sam stared heavenward for a moment expecting to see the Vanir's ship breaching the atmosphere. If this was just Jack spoiling for a fight she might actually give him one, except that wasn't the way he worked. He wouldn't ask if he didn't need to know. She just wished he hadn't decided he needed to know now.

"What the hell did you think we were going to do?" she snapped fully exasperated now, her hands fisting in the metal gloves as she wondered if she might actually put him on his ass for doing this to her now.

"I don't know… dial a planet… any planet. The Alpha site maybe!" he argued back.

"For crying out loud Jack! I built a backdoor. Alright?!" she yelled and he seemed to go still.

"What?" his voice was tight and blistering in its anger.

"If they don't give us a green light, I'm going to use the same trick Thor did a few years ago to get the Iris down. I've got a virus similar to the one I've been using to take down the Bots out here. Combined with the power surge it will transmit it through the wormhole, it'll trigger some encrypted programming I buried in the Base's subroutines. It wasn't designed for this purpose… more for diagnostics… but I can repurpose it."

"Sam." He stalked forward, standing almost chest to chest with her in his suit; it was a faintly intimidating pose and she felt every inch the rebuked Colonel in that moment. "You put Earth at risk with this. What if you'd been captured. Or taken as a host. Hell! What if that Repli-Carter knew how to trigger this?"

Sam winced, taking his point. "No. I installed it after her, for that reason. I was worried about all the knowledge she had of the Base and the Gate's operating systems through me. So I installed a failsafe. This is just a tweaking of it."

He was quiet and still, not a good combination in Jack O'Neill, she wished she could see his eyes, they always spoke volumes – to her at least. Even his voice, instead of the metallic modulator of his armour, everything always sounded more serious and formal with that tone. Which was the point – it stripped the human out of it, and left the soldier. "Sam… you have to consider how this is going to look, especially if we don't know the state of play. They might throw you in a cell for compromising base security like this."

"Or they'll just think it's me pulling another technological miracle out of my ass." she replied irritated. "I don't have another way Jack. It's this, or we turn the ship around." She bit the inside of her cheek, feeling a slight prickle of shame at his mild rebuke, deep down, a part of him would always be her CO; it seemed like no matter how far she came, she still wanted to be the 'good soldier' in his eyes.

"This was a risk Sam, one you didn't have the authority to make alone." he rebuked her and she bristled, it had after all been 'his' command, 'his' risk, not hers. "Which is why you didn't ask." he sighed. "Because no one understands it like you, right?"

"It was a calculated risk – to be frank, if I was compromised like that again, getting past the iris would be the least of the SGC's worries." Sam admitted. "This is a manipulation of circumstances and technology because of a bit of code I pre-empted. Nothing more. And besides, I wasn't on Earth to be at risk to it, was I."

Jack paused, his entire posture going rigid – she could imagine behind that mask his eyes narrowing at her. "Sam I love you, and God knows, I know your brilliance is a gift. But sometimes… you can be a real smart ass."

"Wait… are you actually pissed at me, for saving our asses right now?" she got out incensed at the sheer audacity of him right now.

"No Sam, I'm pissed at you for not telling me when it was my job to know! And I sure as shit don't want to make use of a God damn backdoor if it blows the SGC wide open for someone else!" he bit back. "I couldn't live with that, could you?" he all but accused and she recoiled. Son of a bitch. She considered telling him so and realised there was no point, he'd have heard her just fine. But she considered why she was so incensed by that accusation… perhaps because there was a grain of truth in it. And he did have a point.

"You're right," she conceded finally. "I should of told you." Because she couldn't bring herself to be entirely sorry for the backdoor itself. "But some dumb ass CO of mine taught me it was sometimes better to ask forgiveness than permission." she snipped and he actually snorted, so maybe he wasn't quite as offended as he was giving off.

"Do you trust me Jack?" she asked quite seriously.

He went rigid again, then he stepped right up to her, breastplate bumping into hers and his hands clasped around her mask as he stared into her with the sightless eyes of his own. Furious she knew. "Now who's being the dumb ass." their helmets collided and she gasped at the sudden intensity of it.

They stared at each other, the sound of their breathing sharp through the respirators. "I'm sorry, I know better than to ask that." she conceded, her breath shallowing as their helmeted heads remained pressed together, his hands clasping hers as she reached up to gentle them away as she asked for forgiveness. She understood his anger, trust – it was the cornerstone of their relationship.

"So trust me when I tell you I'm prying open a very small, practically invisible hole in their systems, somewhere no one would have looked, not even me… and I'll make sure its damn well closed when we're through." she promised, willing him to keep that faith in her.

"Okay." he rasped and patted her helmeted head and she wanted to kiss him for that. Because they both knew that ever since meeting her Replicator doppleganger and being confronted by the worst in herself, she was sure than one day her arrogance in her ability to 'always' be right, might get them both killed. Although maybe the Wasteland had cured her of that…because if it had taught her nothing else, it was that the Universe didn't care how smart you were; it'd tear you apart just as surely as the next idiot.

"Speaking as the next idiot, I've had a bright idea." Jack picked up on her thoughts of course and reached for the GDO. "Let's give them the chance to open the door first though, yeah?" he asked and she watched as he typed in a message onto his PipBoy, "Reckon you can transmit that through at the same time?" Sam glanced down at it and was rendered momentarily speechless. Why hadn't she thought of that?

"Ah don't be so hard on yourself, we can't all be geniuses." he snorted and she couldn't help but agree.

"See. I knew there was a reason I married you."

"Buns of steel?" he enquired and she glanced down at this metal clad suit.

"Pretty much."

"Well we can't stand around here admiring my ass all day, you should get a move on, I'm sure those green assholes will be along to crash the party soon enough and we've got work to do."

He wasn't wrong, they'd gotten maybe another thirty minutes tops to work on her weapon and remove the power core from the ship's hyperspace engine and hook it up to the cannon before the proximity alarm went off on the stolen Vanir scout ship. Jack's helmeted head turned to her from where he was stood by the Gate having completed every task she'd given him without complaint.

"We're out of time Sam!" he called over. "This is as good as its going to get," he informed her as he stomped over to where she stood by the cannon's controls, which she'd got synced to the power core. It wasn't the best moment for aliens to invade but Jack wasn't wrong. Vanir soldiers began to beam down around them in their own version of the Power Armour suits Jack had told her about. Terrifyingly effective black exo-suits that made them something more of a threat than the green bulbous headed aliens she knew were beneath them.

"Cover the device!" she snapped at Jack when he came to her side as she raised her handheld plasma pistols, taking out the first alien stupid enough to materialise in her line of sight.

"Then you best damn well stand next to it!" Jack barked back, his intention clear, to protect her first. Any other time she might find that chivalrous but she wasn't about to lose everything they'd worked for. Fortunately, they didn't seem to have the first damn idea what to do about Jack. Maybe the Ancients in this reality had been ascended so long that no one remembered how to fight them, or what fighting them might be like. Because he was making quick if bloody work of them.

"Damn. Their heads just…" He mimed exploding as he hunkered down next to her. "Barely have to rattle inside there and it's kablooey!"

"I'll bare that in mind. Unfortunately, they seem more resistant to plasma and energy weapons than head rattling." She holstered her relatively useless pistols for the time being and punched in the remaining programme for the power core, before taking the decision to use the ship one last time and pull out her last resort of extending the ship's shields around them. She didn't particularly like this Plan B as it posed the fairly serious risk of overloading the already straining ship's systems, but she breathed a sigh of relief as it rose around them in a blue flickering hue. Trapping a remaining few Vanir inside with them.

Jack made quick work of them with his assault rifle which, with the armour piercing rounds, seemed to be penetrating their suits if you got enough in the right place. It helped that they were also being pinned and fried against the shield behind them.

"You done?" he asked hunkering back down beside her and raising his head heavenward. "I think their friends in the big ass ship above are about to bring out the big guns and just obliterate us where we stand."

"All set. Powering up the Gate now." She engaged the portable generator she'd hooked up to the Gate. The ring began to move and Sam stood transfixed as the Chevron's she knew only too well began to light up one by one; the faint yellow and red glow as each one engaged making her heart rate spike.

Then the ground began to shake violently.

"That's a good sign right?" Jack bellowed over the noise of the rocks and ground splitting around them.

"Maybe. So long as the vibrations don't split what's left of this planet in two!" she yelled back.

"Cheerful thought," Jack replied, standing as he watched the seventh chevron. "Locked," he rasped as it lit up. Sam's breath caught, then the event horizon formed whooshing out towards them in a giant funnel of seeming water, before collapsing back into the puddle, as Jack liked to call it. The light shimmered in the darkness of the planet, glimmering off the surface and creating shadows along the barren ground.

"Now that's a sight for sore eyes," he admitted in clear wonder and she felt the earlier argument fade along with her anger at him over it. This was what she'd worked for. She'd almost got them home; home sickness flooded her at the sight of the glowing event horizon that had dominated her every waking moment and most of the un-waking ones for the last eight years.

"Yeah sure ya betcha," Sam replied and Jack glanced back down at the cannon she was all but cradling. "It's primed and ready," she confirmed, barely able to take her eyes off the Gate. It was so close now she could almost imagine stepping out onto the ramp at Stargate Command, hearing the alarms of an unscheduled off world traveller blaring through the complex.

Jack's eyes drifted to the big red button on the side of her plasma cannon. She'd hate to say she added it with Jack in mind but she had. She nodded her assent.

"Sweet." She could tell he was grinning as he reached up and hit the button hard. The plasma beam exploded to life hitting the centre of the event horizon and penetrating into the wormhole itself.

Something exploded overhead against the shield and she looked up, shocked to realise that whilst they've been lost in their awe of the Gate opening again, the mothership had actually opened fire; energy cannons rather than anything more devastating. Clearly they either wanted them alive or their ship back in one piece, at least for now. The shields flickered and the power core whirred but it held, which was a relief. The power core was putting pretty much everything into the shield which meant it wouldn't overload the plasma cannon, not unless they shut it off. Shit!

Sam stared down at the cannon as the shield continued to take a battering, lighting up the sky above them and making her wince. It was going to be over soon if they didn't do something.

"What do we need?" Jack asked standing beside her, the tension in his frame transmitting just fine through the suit.

"The plasma cannon's not drawing enough power." She pointed to the display. "We've maxed out at 67%. It needs to be over 90% to go critical and send a surge through enough to warp the matter stream. But if I shut off the shield to give it the power…" She pointed upward.

"Right," Jack replied in his usual biting tone. "'Excuse me a minute. I'm going to go blow something up."

"Jack… we shouldn't over tax your abilities. You were practically unconscious on the ship," she told him, genuinely concerned that he'd kill himself trying to get them over the line.

"Actually I meant in the traditional sense." He disappeared into the ship and emerged with a pack full of gear that he dropped down at her feet. "Watch those for me. Not leaving those behind!" He gave her a thumbs up and swung what looked like a modified Fat Man up onto his shoulder. Sam blinked. He'd installed a couple of MK28 nukes from Liberty Prime on it. Or rather she imagined Ingram had. Damn! Why hadn't she thought of that?

"Don't be jealous," Jack muttered through the comms in their headsets as he strode to the middle of the shield. "You know you're the only one I let touch my guns. I actually did this baby myself." Sam wasn't sure if she was relieved or nervous about that. "Oy, watch it Carter. Besides if you like this baby you're going to love what else I've got in this pack," he bit back to her thoughts and she shook her head amused that he could still surprise her.

"I'll drop the shield for a couple of seconds. Make it count," she instructed, trying to keep it on track before they got blown to hell.

"Yeah sure ya betcha," he replied. She counted down and then dropped the shield. The missile struck the mothership's shield and the whole thing flickered.

"Again. Same spot!" she declared. Jack raised the gun. "Three, two, one… fire!" The shield above them flickered out and the missile sailed through. She couldn't tell if Jack's target was off because he raised his hand and seemed to give it an extra push. The force of the explosion directed inward as opposed to being absorbed along the shield. It worked. The Motherships shield flickered and fell.

"I'm out of missiles!" Jack told her and she winced. Of course. Their friends above seemed to be at least alarmed by the sudden loss of their shields.

"Sam… we got to do it now. We've rattled them but now we've pissed them off and shown ourselves to be a threat, they'll be charging that pesky ole planet busting weapon that I'm fairly sure they got on board."

"Okay. See if you can find anything else to fire at them. I'm dropping our shield on three. Get closer to the Gate, I'm faster than you. When I say go, run through."

"Not a chance in hell. Not without you. We go in together." he told her flatly.

"Jack!"

"Sam. I'm not arguing about this. Together or not at all. I'll wait at the damn Gate for you." Sam nodded, sensing she wasn't about to win this one. He took up position and she stood behind the cannon waiting.

"Besides, this might make them think twice about sticking around." He retrieved a massive black steel encased energy gun of some kind. Sam blinked; she thought she'd seen all his weapons. In fact, that almost looked like... "Yep," Jack responded to her unvoiced exclamation. "Maxson gave it to me. He was motivated to find you and apparently you were behind the idea for it. Preston was keeping it warm for me. Then we had a little falling out but he handed it back as a leaving gift," he explained, popping in two of the rechargeable fusion cores which they usually used for the Power Armour, making Sam pause. Son of a bitch! She'd told Maxson that the only way to improve the Prydwen's mounted Gatling lasers was to find a way to replace the fusion cells they used with cores, but doing that would be insane and lethal. Apparently he'd agreed; it was much too unstable for the side of a helium filled ship, but as a handheld monstrosity, well that was apparently fine.

"I was saving it as a homecoming surprise. I call it the Fat Lady which is better than Maxson's name… Final Judgement. Honestly… man had no imagination," he groused as he hoisted the black monstrosity and pointed it upwards, haloed by the blue glow of the event horizon at his back, inches from home and being careful to avoid the beam directed straight through it.

"On your signal," he barked, waiting. She supposed it might make a dent at the very least before it exploded. There was no finesse to the damn thing with those cores, but then the target was a giant fucking spaceship hovering just overhead.

"Go!" she commanded and dropped the shield permanently, redirecting the remaining energy from the power core directly into her plasma cannon which rocketed up; the beam began to pulse, destabilising as it approached critical. She heard the furious roar of Jack's weapon and didn't dare look up as she kept her eyes on the weapon. Eighty-two percent and climbing fast. Eighty-eight.

"Almost!" she called out to Jack, glancing up to see his weapon hit the mothership somewhere critical. A chain reaction started and he paused, looking around the sight and letting out a whoop – right before he realised what she had.

"Shit! It's coming down!" he barked staring up at it and then back at her. She held her hand up to stop him from charging towards her, ignoring the chain reaction above that was triggering a whole host of explosions that would no doubt wipe out this area when it landed, them included.

"Eighty-nine percent. Come on, come on!" she urged the weapon on. "Ninety!" The indicator ticked and she slammed her hand down on the big red button to fire the charged load along the plasma stream. It erupted into the event horizon and she waited for the barest of seconds, viscerally aware of Jack screaming at her to move as debris started to land around them. The core was depleted. She snatched her hand out and grabbed it, tucking it into her armoured belt as she ran, faster than humanly possible, even in the suit, lifting her arm as she went and entering the GDO code as she all but crashed into Jack who hastily grabbed his weapon pack filled with God knows what.

They waited a breath as something exploded about twenty feet away and she risked a glance up, hastily looking away as the ship got closer and closer to the ground, huge chunks of debris raining down, lighting up the sky and landing with almighty crashes that tore into the damaged ground. Pods were firing out from it and the tell-tale flashes of Asgard beaming technology lit up the dark backdrop all around. They were about to get a hell of a lot of very angry company.

"Well?" Jack grabbed her wrist and stared at the GDO strapped to her PipBoy. Her heart simultaneously soared and fell and his grip tightened fractionally as they received the 'divert to Alpha site signal'. So someone was alive back home, but they weren't going to let them in the front door.

"Send my message." he instructed.

"I did." Sam informed him sharply, "It went with it. They're not going to let us in Jack." she waited with baited breath, he felt like she should have confided in him about this backdoor, that it was a risk… which meant that she had to let it be his choice if they used it or not now. An explosion rocked them and Sam heard the radiation sensors going off as debris pelted them as they ducked down raising their hands to deflect the worst of it.

"Fuck it. I'm not dying here, and neither are you. Plan B it is," he ordered, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief, before she reached for her PipBoy and started typing in the command. The virus transmitted and Jack made to move. She slammed her hand into his chest.

"Not yet!" she warned, her eyes on the GDO and the PipBoy receiving the signals.

"Sam. We're about to be space roadkill!" He was squatting down now as the roaring sound of the failing engines above got louder and energy blasts started to hit around the gate from the Vanir that had beamed out and decided to shoot them just for the hell of it before they all died.

Sam stared at the PipBoy, her heart in her mouth, then it happened, an error signal came back – the power was out and the SGC wasn't transmitting. Which meant her virus had done its job cycling up the iris diagnostic program, which would automatically retract it – she hoped, disregarding all the protocols that prevented it with an active wormhole present. "NOW!" she shouted as Jack grabbed her arm and they dived through the event horizon together, the familiar feel of falling into ice cold nothingness enveloping her and she held her breath like always, knowing that if this hadn't worked she'd never even realise it.

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AUTHOR's NOTES:

Yes – I really am going to leave it there…. cause I'm that evil.

Nah just kidding – I've got a short epilogue for just to give you a taste of what happened. I'll even be kind and release it only a week or so after this one! As always please let me know what you think, of this chapter, any chapter, the story, and your hopes for what comes next.

Please stay tuned. There will be a Part 3 and its coming after a brief hiatus to – you know – finishing writing it!

Thank you so much to all the readers that have been with me from the start and those just coming in, to everyone whose comments have inspired and cheered me when it got hard to find inspiration, as well as to all those favouriting and following along silently. I hope it's been an entertaining ride.

And of course many many thanks to my lovely Beta Neverbefore who has been with me through thick and thin since Chapter 15 in Part 1 – I couldn't have done this without her, thank you so much for all your support sage advice and putting up with my truly annoying grammar and spelling which honestly hasn't improved despite your efforts to show me how it's done lol.