Chapter 11
A/N: Whoa, got _totally_ carried away here. Next chapter will be back with Danny boy, I promise... but for now, I'll shove this chapter in here ^-^ Please feed me reviews, you know I can't live without them...
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The woman with her two decorous bodyguards walked along the dusty street towards the large wooden slave cages. Vacant eyes stared up at her from behind the dim shadows of the bars, and she shuddered slightly.
Twilight in the jungle heat leant a fragrant green hint to the otherwise fetid village, and the last few rays of the sun still caught the sides of the great grey ziggurat looming above it. At the very top of it, a fire still burned, flickering like a baleful eye/
At one cage, towards the edge of the pens, the woman glanced back at her guards, and pointed a questioning finger towards it. The taller one nodded, and fished out the primitive bolt-key.
The blue-clad woman took down her coarse linen head veil, revealing sweaty blonde curls stuck to her grazed face. Her arm and knee were bound in light fibrous coverings, and there was a peculiar black marking drawn carefully on her cheek. As the guard unlocked to door, the other pushed her gently in, and she nodded submissively as she gathered the skirt about her knees to sit down. She carefully stretched out her bandaged leg in front of her as she settled on the right side of the cage's only other occupant, her knees by his head as he lay unmoving on the floor. Behind her the guards locked the bolt again, bowed their heads, and withdrew.
Leaning over his senseless form, Sam hurriedly felt for a pulse in his neck. After a second she reached to grab for the bark dish of water with her bandaged hand, bringing it over to her side. The cut on Jack's forehead had opened up again, and in the hot jungle air flies were gathering around the sticky mess. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she blew to dislodge the insects, and picked up the discarded headscarf. Dipping one corner in the water, she began to gently clean the blood from his greying hair, which was damp with sweat already. She allowed herself a bitter grin; at least he was not complaining this time.
Once that was done, she turned her attention to the rest of him, and wished once more that they had been equipped for going off-world. Without the field dressings to help her, she instead ripping the veil with practical hands and began dabbing at the bruises and grazes on his chest, leaving his swollen and purple shoulder carefully be. Where the encounter had left her with more clothes, Jack's already tattered shirt had gathered in ragged patches around his shoulder or still tucked in his belt, the material snagging her hand as she worked. Eventually she sat back. Scooping up a handful of the water herself, she drank a little and then wiped her hand dry. Now she just had to wait for him to come round.
She sat there for a while, watching as the emerald shadows deepened and the crickets' loud hum echoed through the jungle. Unconsciously her eyes rested on the peaceful face of the Colonel. His forehead was creased in a light frown, and she put out gentle fingers to smooth them, then letting them linger and trace down his cheek. He had to wake... he was her CO, her best friend, the one who had always pulled them through with his courage and resourcefulness. Her hand continued stroking his face as she remained lost in thought, not daring to consider the other possibilities. Okay, she sometimes found him really annoying, deliberately obtuse, thoughtless in the extreme... especially the last couple of days. That very morning, seeming so long ago, she had been furious with him after putting up with it for so long. But somehow, in this time, in this place, it didn't matter.
His dark eyes flicked open suddenly, and she jerked her hand from his face as if she'd been scolded.
"Carter?"
Somehow he pushed himself upright, facing her and searching her face with disconcerting eyes. Completely inappropriately her heart gave an erratic bound to a faster pace.
"I thought you were dead," he said hoarsely, eyes never leaving hers. Before she could answer he brought his bruised hand to the back of her head and brought her close, pressing his lips to hers hungrily. At first surprise, then forbidden thrill rushed through her, and she wholeheartedly returned it, waves of dizzying sweetness threatening to overtake her. His hand slipped down to her neck, and she made a stifled noise of want and desire.
Then just as suddenly as if they both realised what they were doing, they snapped fearfully back, and he released her, puzzlement and then remorse in his eyes. Both of them were breathing faster, and Sam's eyes reflected dark shades of repressed passion before she turned to stare wordlessly at the floor.
"I'm sorry, I - "
"Sir, I didn't - "
They both spoke simultaneously, and then Sam, her gazed still fixed firmly on the earthen floor, began to speak as if nothing had happened. The invisible barriers, the ones that they had worked so hard to created, sprang silently up again.
"I've been investigating, sir, and I found out where all of our stuff is being kept, though there's something else there that I don't remember us having, like a box or some such, and - "
Jack put his hand to his forehead and winced.
"Uh. Carter, slow down a second. When I last saw you, you were being dragged off for Chehak! And where did you get those clothes?"
His gaze slipped down to the blue dress, and then snapped up again, but not before Sam began to redden. Glad for the twilight she pulled herself together.
"Apparently I have to be able to walk before I get Chehak honour, so they gave me new clothes and bandaged my knee and hand. I don't know what they did, but it sure seems to be working."
She put forward her right hand and flexed her fingers carefully in demonstration.
"And they drew something on my face, but I haven't been able to get to a mirror, so I don't know what it is..."
Jack lifted his head to look at it, and then gave her a lopsided grin.
"If it had a dot to the side, it would be the Arabic word for fish," he commented, turning away and trying to get to his feet. His shoulder seemed to have completely seized up, and he could barely move his left arm without fiery pain racing across it.
"You said Chehak honour, Carter. Have you any idea what Chehak IS?
"Well, I guessed some kind of court duty, or - "
"Carter, they mean to sacrifice you."
In the rapidly encroaching darkness, all her reaction seemed to be was a swift indrawing of breath.
"Don't you think that's a little extreme, sir?"
"I know what I saw, Carter. That green-robed guy was happy to elaborate." He sighed and sat down again. "And I also thought that I'd never see you again."
His voice was very low, and it was his turn to stare at the almost invisible floor as true darkness began to creep into the village.
"Is that why you..."
"I already said I'm sorry. I... didn't mean to drag it all up again. And if I pissed you off this morning in the elevator, I really didn't mean it..." he confessed, leaning back against the thick wooden bars.
"I forgive you, sir." This mention of earlier events at the SGC caused the awkwardness to slip pass, and a hint of laughter remained in her voice.
"So we're good?"
"We're good."
"Great. Right, did you say you knew where our 'inventory' is?" he said lightly, allowing the quotes to slip dryly around the word.
Sam twisted round to sit beside him, leaning against the bars herself.
"There's a hut, round at the east side of the step-pyramid. I saw our 'inventory'," she used his tone, "being taken in. But I swear I saw one of Dad's equipment boxes there too..."
"So maybe the SGC sent something through that shield?" said Jack with a pleased tone.
"I'd say it's probably more like an interface sir, using the subspace inverter combined with the shielding - "
"Uh, any plans on getting our stuff back?" Jack said hurriedly, cutting off her scientific ruminations. He picked at the tatters of his shirt meaningfully. "And any chance of me getting some more clothes?"
"Well, I did manage to formulate a rough idea; I managed to steal my eating knife after they gave me food - "
"You got _dinner_?"
Sam grinned at the sarcastic tone and disbelief, and then turned serious again.
"Obviously those for Chehak must get fed," she replied uncertainly, and then bitterly ironic. "I can hardly keep it down as it is... Anyway, I think if we skirt the place after dark we can grab our stuff and leave."
"You're missing a tiny point here, Carter," said Jack, grasping the bar beside him and trying to budge it. "We appear to be locked in a small wooden cage without tools, in the middle of a bunch of other people locked in small wooden cages."
"Do you have no faith in me, sir?"
"Aw, come off it, Carter."
"When it gets properly dark I'll show you."
"You're not going to pull feminine charms on the guards, are you?"
"Sir!"
But there was the edge of laughter in both of their voices, and Jack ducked his head.
"Don't hit me, I bruise," he said, cringing repentance in his voice, and Sam tossed her head mock indignantly. Unseen in the dark she rolled her eyes, and swung her leg out as she began to get to her feet.
Favouring her knee only a little, she limped over to the doorway where the guards had left so long before. Leaning against it, she pressed her face against the bars in seeming despair, waiting for darkness to entirely swallow the place. From neighbouring cages she heard low voices, a wailing child slapped into silence. Swallowing, she shook her head and concentrated. It should be dark enough by now.
Without seeming to move, her hand slid into the carrying fold of the strange garment she was wearing, and retrieved the crude bronze prong she had been eating with. Nothing of her moved except that hand, and she carefully picked the lock. In fact, it was easy, and she eventually turned back and wandered over to where Jack was still sitting quietly. As she dropped down beside him, he raised an unseen eyebrow and spoke in a low voice.
"So?"
"So what?"
"Sooo, can we get the door open?"
"The lock is incredibly primitive, sir. I've picked Yale locks before. In fact I - "
"Carter!"
"What?!"
"Can – we – get – out?"
"Yes, sir."
"THANKyou." He leaned back against the bars. Now their night vision was becoming better, the Colonel could see across the edge of the village towards the couple of guards vigilant by the other end. He glanced back at his 2IC.
"I reckon if we go past around the back of these cages. Slip out low, you go round and get the stuff. I want to know what's in that box we've been sent – the other stuff isn't really important. Especially if they've thought. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd sent us a couple P90s. I could - " He paused a moment. However, thinking in the same vein, Sam had already continued.
"You can stay in the cage in case someone comes. Those guards are different from the ones I had earlier, it's possible they weren't told I was here. So stay here and wait for me? I have local clothing; it shouldn't be too hard to get some clothes and a bandage for your shoulder, sir. Then I bring it back, we both leave, I get that box, and we head for the jungle."
"I don't really need that bandage, Carter."
"Sir." Her tone brooked no argument.
"Right. Sounds good. Only problem I can see is what the hell are we going to do in the jungle?"
"WAY ahead of you, sir." Her smile widened as she let her greatest bit of news out. "I've seen some murals. Apparently in that big ancient Goa'uld pyramid, as well as the interface device, there's a ring transporter."
"Which will take us?"
"Somewhere without Chehak?"
"You have a point. Okay – move out."
She made to get up, but the Colonel caught her arm suddenly.
"Maybe it's not such a good idea to go out there with 'fish' written on your face...."
"How do you know that anyway, sir?" she asked as he tried to find a clean piece of headscarf to clean her face with.
"I have this thing about fish, Carter. I couldn't stop until I'd learnt it in as many languages as Danny has." said O'Neill, feigning surprise as he dipped the material in the water. Hesitating for a second, he took her face gently to start cleaning the mark, which started slowly coming off.
Trying to ignore the hypersensitive feeling wherever his fingers brushed roughly against her skin, Sam swallowed and then looked quizzically as what he had actually had said filtered through.
"You _what_?"
"What?"
"Learnt the word - "
Jack laughed as he finished removing the mark.
"Come on, Carter. Do you really think that's me?"
"No... I guess not..." she said, utterly bemused.
"Well then."
She stood up again, headed for the door.
"Carter." This time his voice was serious, but almost tender in its tone.
"Sir?"
"Be careful."
"I will, sir."
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Jack spoke up again.
"And if possible, you'd better pick up my yoyo, okay?"
Sam smiled and slipped quietly out of the door.
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A/N: Whoa, got _totally_ carried away here. Next chapter will be back with Danny boy, I promise... but for now, I'll shove this chapter in here ^-^ Please feed me reviews, you know I can't live without them...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The woman with her two decorous bodyguards walked along the dusty street towards the large wooden slave cages. Vacant eyes stared up at her from behind the dim shadows of the bars, and she shuddered slightly.
Twilight in the jungle heat leant a fragrant green hint to the otherwise fetid village, and the last few rays of the sun still caught the sides of the great grey ziggurat looming above it. At the very top of it, a fire still burned, flickering like a baleful eye/
At one cage, towards the edge of the pens, the woman glanced back at her guards, and pointed a questioning finger towards it. The taller one nodded, and fished out the primitive bolt-key.
The blue-clad woman took down her coarse linen head veil, revealing sweaty blonde curls stuck to her grazed face. Her arm and knee were bound in light fibrous coverings, and there was a peculiar black marking drawn carefully on her cheek. As the guard unlocked to door, the other pushed her gently in, and she nodded submissively as she gathered the skirt about her knees to sit down. She carefully stretched out her bandaged leg in front of her as she settled on the right side of the cage's only other occupant, her knees by his head as he lay unmoving on the floor. Behind her the guards locked the bolt again, bowed their heads, and withdrew.
Leaning over his senseless form, Sam hurriedly felt for a pulse in his neck. After a second she reached to grab for the bark dish of water with her bandaged hand, bringing it over to her side. The cut on Jack's forehead had opened up again, and in the hot jungle air flies were gathering around the sticky mess. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she blew to dislodge the insects, and picked up the discarded headscarf. Dipping one corner in the water, she began to gently clean the blood from his greying hair, which was damp with sweat already. She allowed herself a bitter grin; at least he was not complaining this time.
Once that was done, she turned her attention to the rest of him, and wished once more that they had been equipped for going off-world. Without the field dressings to help her, she instead ripping the veil with practical hands and began dabbing at the bruises and grazes on his chest, leaving his swollen and purple shoulder carefully be. Where the encounter had left her with more clothes, Jack's already tattered shirt had gathered in ragged patches around his shoulder or still tucked in his belt, the material snagging her hand as she worked. Eventually she sat back. Scooping up a handful of the water herself, she drank a little and then wiped her hand dry. Now she just had to wait for him to come round.
She sat there for a while, watching as the emerald shadows deepened and the crickets' loud hum echoed through the jungle. Unconsciously her eyes rested on the peaceful face of the Colonel. His forehead was creased in a light frown, and she put out gentle fingers to smooth them, then letting them linger and trace down his cheek. He had to wake... he was her CO, her best friend, the one who had always pulled them through with his courage and resourcefulness. Her hand continued stroking his face as she remained lost in thought, not daring to consider the other possibilities. Okay, she sometimes found him really annoying, deliberately obtuse, thoughtless in the extreme... especially the last couple of days. That very morning, seeming so long ago, she had been furious with him after putting up with it for so long. But somehow, in this time, in this place, it didn't matter.
His dark eyes flicked open suddenly, and she jerked her hand from his face as if she'd been scolded.
"Carter?"
Somehow he pushed himself upright, facing her and searching her face with disconcerting eyes. Completely inappropriately her heart gave an erratic bound to a faster pace.
"I thought you were dead," he said hoarsely, eyes never leaving hers. Before she could answer he brought his bruised hand to the back of her head and brought her close, pressing his lips to hers hungrily. At first surprise, then forbidden thrill rushed through her, and she wholeheartedly returned it, waves of dizzying sweetness threatening to overtake her. His hand slipped down to her neck, and she made a stifled noise of want and desire.
Then just as suddenly as if they both realised what they were doing, they snapped fearfully back, and he released her, puzzlement and then remorse in his eyes. Both of them were breathing faster, and Sam's eyes reflected dark shades of repressed passion before she turned to stare wordlessly at the floor.
"I'm sorry, I - "
"Sir, I didn't - "
They both spoke simultaneously, and then Sam, her gazed still fixed firmly on the earthen floor, began to speak as if nothing had happened. The invisible barriers, the ones that they had worked so hard to created, sprang silently up again.
"I've been investigating, sir, and I found out where all of our stuff is being kept, though there's something else there that I don't remember us having, like a box or some such, and - "
Jack put his hand to his forehead and winced.
"Uh. Carter, slow down a second. When I last saw you, you were being dragged off for Chehak! And where did you get those clothes?"
His gaze slipped down to the blue dress, and then snapped up again, but not before Sam began to redden. Glad for the twilight she pulled herself together.
"Apparently I have to be able to walk before I get Chehak honour, so they gave me new clothes and bandaged my knee and hand. I don't know what they did, but it sure seems to be working."
She put forward her right hand and flexed her fingers carefully in demonstration.
"And they drew something on my face, but I haven't been able to get to a mirror, so I don't know what it is..."
Jack lifted his head to look at it, and then gave her a lopsided grin.
"If it had a dot to the side, it would be the Arabic word for fish," he commented, turning away and trying to get to his feet. His shoulder seemed to have completely seized up, and he could barely move his left arm without fiery pain racing across it.
"You said Chehak honour, Carter. Have you any idea what Chehak IS?
"Well, I guessed some kind of court duty, or - "
"Carter, they mean to sacrifice you."
In the rapidly encroaching darkness, all her reaction seemed to be was a swift indrawing of breath.
"Don't you think that's a little extreme, sir?"
"I know what I saw, Carter. That green-robed guy was happy to elaborate." He sighed and sat down again. "And I also thought that I'd never see you again."
His voice was very low, and it was his turn to stare at the almost invisible floor as true darkness began to creep into the village.
"Is that why you..."
"I already said I'm sorry. I... didn't mean to drag it all up again. And if I pissed you off this morning in the elevator, I really didn't mean it..." he confessed, leaning back against the thick wooden bars.
"I forgive you, sir." This mention of earlier events at the SGC caused the awkwardness to slip pass, and a hint of laughter remained in her voice.
"So we're good?"
"We're good."
"Great. Right, did you say you knew where our 'inventory' is?" he said lightly, allowing the quotes to slip dryly around the word.
Sam twisted round to sit beside him, leaning against the bars herself.
"There's a hut, round at the east side of the step-pyramid. I saw our 'inventory'," she used his tone, "being taken in. But I swear I saw one of Dad's equipment boxes there too..."
"So maybe the SGC sent something through that shield?" said Jack with a pleased tone.
"I'd say it's probably more like an interface sir, using the subspace inverter combined with the shielding - "
"Uh, any plans on getting our stuff back?" Jack said hurriedly, cutting off her scientific ruminations. He picked at the tatters of his shirt meaningfully. "And any chance of me getting some more clothes?"
"Well, I did manage to formulate a rough idea; I managed to steal my eating knife after they gave me food - "
"You got _dinner_?"
Sam grinned at the sarcastic tone and disbelief, and then turned serious again.
"Obviously those for Chehak must get fed," she replied uncertainly, and then bitterly ironic. "I can hardly keep it down as it is... Anyway, I think if we skirt the place after dark we can grab our stuff and leave."
"You're missing a tiny point here, Carter," said Jack, grasping the bar beside him and trying to budge it. "We appear to be locked in a small wooden cage without tools, in the middle of a bunch of other people locked in small wooden cages."
"Do you have no faith in me, sir?"
"Aw, come off it, Carter."
"When it gets properly dark I'll show you."
"You're not going to pull feminine charms on the guards, are you?"
"Sir!"
But there was the edge of laughter in both of their voices, and Jack ducked his head.
"Don't hit me, I bruise," he said, cringing repentance in his voice, and Sam tossed her head mock indignantly. Unseen in the dark she rolled her eyes, and swung her leg out as she began to get to her feet.
Favouring her knee only a little, she limped over to the doorway where the guards had left so long before. Leaning against it, she pressed her face against the bars in seeming despair, waiting for darkness to entirely swallow the place. From neighbouring cages she heard low voices, a wailing child slapped into silence. Swallowing, she shook her head and concentrated. It should be dark enough by now.
Without seeming to move, her hand slid into the carrying fold of the strange garment she was wearing, and retrieved the crude bronze prong she had been eating with. Nothing of her moved except that hand, and she carefully picked the lock. In fact, it was easy, and she eventually turned back and wandered over to where Jack was still sitting quietly. As she dropped down beside him, he raised an unseen eyebrow and spoke in a low voice.
"So?"
"So what?"
"Sooo, can we get the door open?"
"The lock is incredibly primitive, sir. I've picked Yale locks before. In fact I - "
"Carter!"
"What?!"
"Can – we – get – out?"
"Yes, sir."
"THANKyou." He leaned back against the bars. Now their night vision was becoming better, the Colonel could see across the edge of the village towards the couple of guards vigilant by the other end. He glanced back at his 2IC.
"I reckon if we go past around the back of these cages. Slip out low, you go round and get the stuff. I want to know what's in that box we've been sent – the other stuff isn't really important. Especially if they've thought. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd sent us a couple P90s. I could - " He paused a moment. However, thinking in the same vein, Sam had already continued.
"You can stay in the cage in case someone comes. Those guards are different from the ones I had earlier, it's possible they weren't told I was here. So stay here and wait for me? I have local clothing; it shouldn't be too hard to get some clothes and a bandage for your shoulder, sir. Then I bring it back, we both leave, I get that box, and we head for the jungle."
"I don't really need that bandage, Carter."
"Sir." Her tone brooked no argument.
"Right. Sounds good. Only problem I can see is what the hell are we going to do in the jungle?"
"WAY ahead of you, sir." Her smile widened as she let her greatest bit of news out. "I've seen some murals. Apparently in that big ancient Goa'uld pyramid, as well as the interface device, there's a ring transporter."
"Which will take us?"
"Somewhere without Chehak?"
"You have a point. Okay – move out."
She made to get up, but the Colonel caught her arm suddenly.
"Maybe it's not such a good idea to go out there with 'fish' written on your face...."
"How do you know that anyway, sir?" she asked as he tried to find a clean piece of headscarf to clean her face with.
"I have this thing about fish, Carter. I couldn't stop until I'd learnt it in as many languages as Danny has." said O'Neill, feigning surprise as he dipped the material in the water. Hesitating for a second, he took her face gently to start cleaning the mark, which started slowly coming off.
Trying to ignore the hypersensitive feeling wherever his fingers brushed roughly against her skin, Sam swallowed and then looked quizzically as what he had actually had said filtered through.
"You _what_?"
"What?"
"Learnt the word - "
Jack laughed as he finished removing the mark.
"Come on, Carter. Do you really think that's me?"
"No... I guess not..." she said, utterly bemused.
"Well then."
She stood up again, headed for the door.
"Carter." This time his voice was serious, but almost tender in its tone.
"Sir?"
"Be careful."
"I will, sir."
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Jack spoke up again.
"And if possible, you'd better pick up my yoyo, okay?"
Sam smiled and slipped quietly out of the door.
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