They had gathered in the observation lounge above the isolation ward. Anna was lying below, sedated into unconsciousness and security strapped to the gurney. She'd been the subject of intense examination by the top-notch SGC medical staff since Jack had brought her in.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't think she can be a Goa'uld. I sat right next to her and didn't feel a thing." Carter stated.
"I did not sense the presence of a symbiote, either, O'Neill." Teal'c's typically laconic comment supported his teammate.
"Then you're both wrong." Jack watched the nurse move around below, removing the various leads and IV's from Anna. He stamped down hard on the guilt at the bloom of a massive bruise on her cheek. "I'm telling you, she had the whole glowy eye thing, and fire came out of her hands and lit my barbecue."
"Maybe the symbiote is immature and not able to take over completely. Or maybe she was a host previously." Daniel started. "You know, like Sam, or that woman on Cimmeria, Kendra. Both of them still could use Goa'uld technology without a resident symbiote."
"As far as I could see, she wasn't using any technology."
"No ribbon device?" Sam perked up.
"Nothing. Her hands were bare. Not even a ring on her finger. Could they have implanted it somehow?"
"I don't think so, Sir. It's a fairly large device. There wouldn't be any room to implant it so that no one else would notice it."
General Hammond had let the discussion wind around the question enough. "If she's not a Goa'uld, then what is she?"
"Well, General, I don't know what she is, but I can tell you what she's not." The petite Doctor Janet Frasier, Chief Medical Officer of Stargate Command, came into the lounge and joined the group, carrying a thick file. At the General's gesture she continued. "She's definitely not a Goa'uld." She waved away Colonel O'Neill's protests. "There's no evidence of a symbiote, immature or otherwise, anywhere in her body. Nor does her blood carry the protein marker that would indicate that the symbiote died. As far as I can tell, she's a normal human female, in excellent health."
"Normal human females can't light up my barbecue with their hands, Doc."
Dr. Frasier nodded, her pretty brown hair bobbing around her face. "You're right. I do have a theory, but it's kind of out there."
"We'll listen to just about anything at this point, Doctor." General Hammond settled into one of the two uncomfortable plastic chairs available.
Doctor Frasier sat in the other chair and maneuvered it to the computer console. "I was following up on a hunch, Sir, and it just happened to bring up some interesting coincidences." She began taping out instructions on the keyboard, SG-1 and her commanding officer looking on. "Her chromosomal DNA is normal, as are all of the other standards tests that would be run under routine circumstances."
"So what's not normal?" Jack glanced over the reports that had appeared on the monitor. As far as he could tell, which wasn't very far, Anna checked out.
"Well, Sir, we have a new test that we've just started using, and I wanted to try it out. It shows a person's mitochondrial DNA."
"Mita-what-i-call?"
"Mitochondrial. If chromosomal DNA can tell us who you are, then mitochondrial DNA shows us where you came from. It's very ancient, one of the more primitive leftovers in modern humans. It's only passed down through the mother's bloodline, so it remains fairly uncorrupted. It's been used frequently in the past few years to trace tribal subgroups in Africa and Asia to try and determine how ancient hominids spread."
"And what does this tell us about Anna Jordan, Doctor?" General Hammond moved the doctor back to more practical matters.
"This is a readout of Ms. Jordan's mitochondrial DNA." A window popped open on the screen showing the bars of a DNA report. "Because it looked familiar, I asked the computer to do a search for matches in our database." A few more taps brought up another window beside the first. "It came up with one match."
"Whose?" Sam moved until her nose was inches from the screen. The two reports looked very similar.
"This one is from Ayiana." Sam met Janet's eyes in surprise.
"Ayiana." Daniel began. That was one of the adventures SG-1 had participated in while he was ascended. "Isn't that the woman that was found frozen in the ice down in Antarctica?"
"Yeah. In a vein of ice that was 50,000 years old." Sam looked back at the screen. "How close a match is it."
"The computer puts it at over 90 percent." Janet and Sam shared another astonished look. "I don't have to tell you how incredible that is."
"I'm afraid you'll have to tell me, Doctor." The General looked from one woman to the other for an answer.
"Sir, that's an incredibly high percentage, almost a perfect match. It would indicate that Anna was a direct descendant. Ancestrally speaking it means that Anna came from the same tribe, maybe even the same family, as Ayiana."
"That's impossible." No way. Jack couldn't even believe she was 40 years old, let alone... Well, it was just impossible.
"And how often have we seen the impossible prove not only possible but actual, Sir?" Sam put in. "Janet, do you know what you're suggesting?"
"I'm not through yet. Look at this." She tapped again and an EKG strip and a colored picture of a brain appeared. "This is Ms. Jordan's EKG and PET scans. I had the computer search again for matches."
"Ayiana again?" Sam couldn't wait to see the results.
"Not only Ayiana." Dr. Frasier input the command and the screen split into four segments, each showing an EKG and colored picture of a brain. "As you can see, the electrical readings are very similar. And the scans of brain activity as well." She pointed out identical blips and dips and colored blobs in each pane. "This one is Ms. Jordan's, and this one is Ayiana's." She tapped the screen on the other two. "These two I didn't expect."
"Who are they, Doctor?" General Hammond was leaning forward, scanning the monitor.
"Well, Sir, this one here," she pointed to the bottom left hand window, "This is Cassie's, when she was going through Nirrti's coming-of-age virus. If you recall, she had some similar abilities to what Colonel O'Neill described Anna as having."
"Nirrti was trying to create a hok'tar, a super human, to be her next host." Teal'c put in. "A host with such powers would be of incalculable value to the Goa'uld."
"Powers used for purely evil purposes. Maybe the hok'tar that Nirrti was trying to create was a human with abilities like the Ancients. Abilities like Anna Jordan's." Dr. Frasier shrugged.
"Janet, do you know what you're suggesting?" Sam was following her friend's thought processes to a likely conclusion.
"That she's a descendant of the Ancients. An actual hok'tar. Human, but with something we don't have. Abilities we've lost, or never had in the first place. Because this last set of scans," Dr. Frasier indicated the last window, "Is Colonel O'Neill's, when he had the Ancient repository downloaded into him. When his brain capacity was working beyond its normal level."
"Mine?" Jack took a closer look at the various sets of readings. He might not be able to make sense of the medical information, but even he could see that Anna's scans and his matched that of Cassie and Ayiana in nearly every aspect.
"But Jack didn't have any extra sensory abilities that he describes Anna as having." Daniel pointed out. "It was all just added intelligence."
"Maybe because he didn't have those extra talents to begin with. It could only work within the framework of Colonel O'Neill's brain." Sam theorized, her mind, though an ordinary human one, working a mile a minute on the possibilities. "Or maybe we didn't give the download enough time to reprogram him."
Teal'c added. "The aliens on P3X-367, whom Nirrti manipulated with her gene resequencer, also possessed what you call extra sensory abilities, O'Neill. Again, much as you ascribe to Anna Jordan."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Right there. First she's some descendant of a 50,000 year old popsicle - who nearly got us all killed by the way - and now your saying she's some ESP freak." Jack threw up his hands and paced to the window to look down on the unconscious woman. "I know her. She's not like that. She's..." He trailed off.
"Colonel," Dr. Frasier came to stand by him, also looking down on Anna. "From what you said of your last encounter, you don't really know what she is, since you never let her tell you." Janet didn't flinch at the Colonel's hostile stare. "I suggest you ask her. And listen to her answer."
Colonel O'Neill turned back to the window, but not before Dr. Frasier had seen that she'd won her point. "I've discontinued her sedation. The way her body metabolizes foreign substances, she should be awake very shortly. You should be there when she wakes up, Colonel. She'll be disoriented, and a familiar face will help."
Jack doubted if his face was going to help anything. He did know Anna, and he was pretty sure that his face was not going to be on the top of her happy list any time soon. But he followed Dr. Frasier to the iso-ward, taking his place beside the bed. A glance over his shoulder showed Daniel, Teal'c, Carter, and General Hammond watching the show through the observation window.
She was pale, the livid bruise from his punch standing out in sharp relief. Tape held swatches of cotton to the inside of each elbow, where the techs had drawn blood. The straps still held her arms and ankles captive to the table. No, she wasn't going to be happy to see him at all.
Dr. Frasier had been right on the money. In only a few minutes, Anna began to stir. Her eyelids flickered, her head moved fretfully, she moaned in feeble protest. The small sound ate at his conscience. This was his fault. Somehow, some way, he had to make this right with her. Even if it meant losing her.
Though somehow, some way, he had to find a way to keep her.
"Jack?" Her voice was thin, barely heard.
"Yeah. I'm here. It's all right." Ha ha. Like that was the truth.
"Why'm I so sleepy? What's happened to me?" The green eyes were glazed, confused.
"It's okay. Nothing's wrong. I'm right here, you don't have to be afraid." He was optimistic when she returned the pressure of his fingers, weaving them together.
"What happened?" She was rapidly regaining her bearings, faster than Jack thought possible.
"We were at your house, in the sunshine. We were talking."
"Yeah. We were talking. We should keep doing that." He hoped to get over the rough parts before she was fully conscious. "You were going to tell me something."
"I went to your house." She repeated. "My face hurts. Why does it..." She tried to raise her hand to the pain, and couldn't due to the security strap. "Why am I tied up? What's going..."
Jack could actually see her eyes clear, her memory snap into place. "Jack." She said flatly, with no trace of warmth that he could detect.
"It's all right, Anna, really. Here let me..." He was reaching to undo the buckle when he suddenly found himself flying through the air. He ended up spread-eagled against the observation window. The pounding of feet leaving the lounge behind him told him the troops were coming to his rescue.
"Don't touch me." Oh, yeah. She was back. All the way back. "Don't ever touch me again."
"Not a problem." He strangled out. It felt like he was pulling six G's coming out of a bombing run. Anna apparently had no problem multi-tasking - which he was grateful for - since she was able to keep him firmly up against the glass while the security straps unbuckled themselves.
The two guards stationed outside the iso-ward ran in, guns raised. "No. Don't shoot!" Jack managed a loud croak. Damn him, if he couldn't figure out who he wanted to protect more, Anna or the two MP's.
"Sir?" The first guard questioned, never taking his eyes, or the muzzle of his pistol, from Anna.
"Don't shoot! Get out, Sargent!" He saw the man's eyes waver in indecision with the obvious threat to his superior officer. "That's an order. Get the hell out of this room. Right now!"
The two guards exchanged a look and slowly backed out of the room, weapons at alert. Their place was taken by General Hammond, who reinforced the Colonel's command, and Daniel,
Carter, Teal'c, and Dr. Frasier. When they tried to advance into the room, Anna raised a hand in a halt gesture. Her eyes blazed gold and the ones leading the group, Daniel and General Hammond, stopped cold as they ran into an invisible wall.
"Stay away from me. All of you, just keep away." Jack wasn't sure what she was going to do. He had no idea how powerful she was, or how desperate. He did discover she wasn't as recovered as she seemed. For a second only, he felt the pressure on his body release as Anna's knees buckled and she leaned heavily on the gurney. She regained control almost immediately and he was pressed back into the glass.
"Anna. Let me down from here. Let me explain."
"Explain? You can explain this?" Anna gestured around the room and clenched the fabric of the hospital gown she wore in her fist. "You can explain punching me unconscious, kidnapping me, keeping me drugged and tied up, performing Goddess knows what kinds of test on me? You can explain that, Jack?"
"Please, Ms. Jordan," Dr. Frasier stepped forward until she could feel the invisible barrier. As used as she was to emotional glares, she had to steel herself from taking a step back when Anna swung around to stab her with a green-eyed sword. "I'm-"
"Janet Frasier, the doctor in charge here. Yes, I know."
Janet looked for support from her commanding officer, General Hammond and only got a confused look in return. How did she know that? "We... We didn't do anything invasive - some blood tests, some scans. That was all."
"That was all?" Anna closed her eyes on more despair.
"Anna." Jack tested her strength by flexing his hands, his shoulders. They could move, and he could speak freely, the intense pressure easing to a feeling of cotton batting. Oh, he was stuck there all right, twenty feet off the floor, but at least he wasn't being mashed flat anymore. "Just give me a chance."
"You had your chance. Colonel." The look that was directed his way was bleak. Not cold, not heated, but utterly empty. By the way she said his rank instead of his name, he knew he was in pretty deep doo doo.
"Ms. Jordan," General Hammond began, "We had to make sure you weren't compromised."
She gave a humorless laugh. "Compromised. Is that what you call it?"
"Ms. Jordan. Anna." Daniel stepped up to the barrier. "We had to make sure you weren't a Goa'uld."
"And now you know I'm not a - Goa'uld, whatever that is, so I think I'm going to leave now."
She raised her hands, which began to glow as power poured through her. A growing wind sliced through the doorway to spiral around her.
Jack winced. He couldn't predict what was coming, only that it wasn't going to be pretty.
"Wait!" Daniel jumped at the barrier, flattening his hands against the invisible wall. "Anna. Please. Don't go yet. Don't you want to know why this happened?"
As she looked at him with eerily gilded eyes and a calm other-worldly voice from the middle of a tornado. "No."
Daniel, who was well-used to weirdness, was unnerved. Even more so when Anna gave a wild yell and punched her fist upwards. Power fountained in a golden stream to explode against the ceiling. Concrete and steel, pulverized to dust and small pieces, rained down.
Everybody ducked under the nearest cover, though Daniel noticed the debris was contained behind the barrier, and that he and the rest of his team were never in any danger.
Anna was a statue as the dust settled, her fist in the air, her look now one of astonishment. The room itself was utterly quiet, alarms and shouts echoed from what seemed like very far away.
Daniel and the others crawled out from under the various tables and counters and stood watching her.
She could see the hole she'd made in the ceiling through four feet of concrete, and the ceiling of the storage room above. The ceiling above that was crumbling to reveal yet another floor.
Frightened faces, starkly white, appeared in the openings. A quick probe straight up didn't reveal sky as far as she could sense, and fortunately, no injuries. Her eyes dropped to Daniel's. "Where am I?"
"Twenty-eight floors underneath Cheyenne Mountain." With another blaze of gold, Daniel felt a wave pass through him, into him. "You can probably blast your way out of here. But not without hurting anyone."
He was telling the truth. And more. What she saw in his mind, and the minds of his friends, was too fantastic to believe. "Why do you think I care?"
"Because I don't think you're that type of person." When she didn't respond, Daniel tried another tack. "Haven't you been curious about what Jack does for the Air Force? Wouldn't you like to know what this is all about?"
"My curiosity about Colonel O'Neill's occupation isn't what it used to be." Anna ignored the subject of her comment, still hanging on the window. Daniel thought she looked remarkably at ease for someone who'd just smashed her way through twelve solid feet of concrete construction.
"I would like to know what a man with doctoral degrees in archeology and anthropology is doing working for the Air Force."
"Well," Daniel stalled, how did she know that? Given the clues from the last few minutes, he deduced that she must somehow be reading their minds. "It's kind of a long story. And we'll tell it to you." He assured her as her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "But first, we'd really like to know what you were going to tell Jack."
"Tell Colonel O'Neill about what?"
"He said you were going to tell him what you are. He said you told him there was a name, a label, you could use, but that it had a stigma attached to it. We'd really like to know what that name is."
"If you think I'm going to tell you after this, your doctoral degrees must not be worth very much."
Sam stepped forward to join in the persuasion. "It's very important. It could mean an answer to questions about the evolution of humans on Earth." Sam swayed, and was supported by Teal'c, unaware that her weakness was caused by Anna probing her mind.
"Anna Jordan." Teal'c joined his teammates at the barrier line. "Your information could mean freedom and peace for many people, including my own. A cause for which Colonel O'Neill has fought for many years."
"Ah... Excuse me. Colonel O'Neill is right here." Now that he knew what a fly on the wall felt like, he didn't much care for it. He wanted down on his own two feet again.
"Ms. Jordan, I think your point has been made." General Hammond spoke from the back of the group but Anna didn't doubt who was in charge. He indicated his officer behind her, Anna didn't turn to look. Didn't need to. "If you don't mind."
"Oh, but I do, General. I mind deception very much." Anna crossed her arms and prepared to stand her ground. She could keep him up there for a very long time.
"Hey!" Jack insisted. "I don't think I'm the only one who was covering something up around here."
Because it was true, Anna had to accept that accusation. She did turn then, to look at him. To try and harden her heart enough not to hurt. But it wasn't possible. Her heart still loved. All she had left to salve her pride was the pretense of indifference. She turned away without speaking to him and negligently waved a hand over her shoulder. "Very well."
Jack fell like a stone. He had enough time to cover his face with his arms and to fervently hope he wouldn't break anything Doc Frasier couldn't fix. His fall halted abruptly a few inches from the floor. So close, his panting stirred the dust.
He was whipped up and to his feet as invisible hands brush him off none too gently. At the same time, Anna's barrier disappeared and Daniel, who'd been leaning against it, fell forward a step.
Everyone cautiously advanced closer to Anna, who watched them with apparent unconcern.
Jack joined his teammates and exchanged a glance with Daniel that carried a whole conversation. This was Daniel's deal now. Anna wouldn't listen or respond to him, so Daniel had to take the lead.
Daniel stepped away from the group, closer to Anna, arms outstretched to show he meant no harm. "Anna. Tell us what you call yourself."
Anna considered a number of factors in the silence after: Her safety, her belief in her own powers, the necessity that had meant keeping a secret for a thousand years. She was already on bad terms with the Council. What more could they do to her if they found out she'd broken one of their oldest laws?
Anna stalled. "This isn't just my secret, Dr. Jackson. There are a lot of people who could be hurt, or worse, if it was known how they're... different."
"I give you my word." Daniel tried to project trust from his mind, sure that somehow Anna would pick up on his thoughts.
"Your word. What about theirs?" She indicated the military uniforms in the room.
"Oh, for crying out loud, Anna. It's not like we can't keep a secret around here." Jack said in exasperation worsened by the knowledge that it was him she didn't trust anymore.
Anna sighed deeply and retreated a few steps. There really wasn't anything else she could do. She wanted out of here, but more, she was fascinated by images and thoughts she'd gleaned from them. And she was, against her will, curious about exactly what Jack O'Neill did for a living.
Staring at the hole she'd made above her, she took a big risk. "I'm a witch."
She didn't need to read their minds, the stunned silence told her all she needed to know. Behind her, the others exchanged looks of surprise and doubt.
Per standard procedure, it was Colonel O'Neill who voiced his scepticism first. "So. Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?" But Anna still wouldn't look at him.
"Don't mock me, Colonel." She threw over her shoulder. "You know as well as I that power has no morality until it's used."
Daniel was on solid ground now. "You mean you're a follower of the Wiccan religion?"
"Not exactly." It was amusing, in a bizarre way. "I'm a practitioner of the Way. My powers are hereditary, passed from mother to daughter, generation to generation, back to the healer Dion Cecht and the time of Danu, the mother of us all."
"Dee-on Ket? Dan-oo?" General Hammond questioned Daniel.
"Danu, the supreme Celtic deity, head of the Tuatha de Danaan. She was the mother of all the other Celtic gods, including Dion Cecht, in much the same way as Zeus was either brother or father to the Greek Gods, or Ra was the head of the Egyptians'." Daniel's encyclopedic knowledge came in handy. "It was said that they originally lived on islands to the West and came to Ireland on a cloud. It's also said that they still protect their people as invisible beings, and that they fight beside them in just battles with lances of blue flame and shields of white light." Daniel gave his teammates a significant look. It was a familiar description.
Sam stepped forward, eager to explore a new puzzle. "You said hereditary powers. What else can you do besides... what did you call it?" She glanced at Colonel O'Neill at the rear of the group to bring his words to mind. "Calling the elements, or..." She gestured upward to the significant destruction above.
"My temper." Anna regretted her outburst, but still, it was hard not to feel a small niggle of satisfaction at the scope of the damage she'd caused. "The Council classifies me as a high level empath, but there are always other aspects to one's talents."
Jack couldn't let that one go by. "You have classifications? And a Council?"
"There are a great many of us, Colonel, from many countries, with their own governing bodies. We have moved with the times." Anna shrugged. "Empaths, healers, spell casters, herbalists, those who have a special affinity for growing things, telekinetics, telepaths. And many others."
"Telepaths." At least she'd answered him. But Jack didn't really care to have anybody stirring around in his head. "If you can read minds, why are you surprised by all this?" He gestured at the SGC around them. "Haven't you known for weeks from reading my mind?"
"Telepathy isn't my primary gift, Colonel. I have only a limited ability in that area. And even a top level telepath would not be able to read your mind." She'd known she couldn't ignore him for long.
"You mean anybody's mind, or only Jack's?" Daniel, too, found himself fascinated by the concept Anna was spreading before them.
Anna had to be amused again. She'd never thought she'd be explaining this to people who not only weren't witches, but were part of the military establishment so hated and feared by her own people.
"Everyone has two parts to their conscious mind, Dr. Jackson. The public part that works when you're talking or concentrating. I can read the feelings and specific thoughts in a person's public mind, but that's not much more than a skilled reader of body language can do." She began.
Anna folded her hands in front of her as Daniel moved closer. "A person's private mind holds those thoughts and feelings that aren't for public knowledge. What you really think about your boss, for example. Your wants and desires. What you hate and what you love." Anna had to consciously not look at Jack O'Neill. "And every person develops the ability to shield those thoughts from the outside world. Some to a greater degree than others."
"And Jack can - shield? - his thoughts better than others?" Daniel supposed he shouldn't be so surprised. He was probably closer to Jack O'Neill than anyone else, and even he had trouble figuring Jack out sometimes. "And even if you can't read Jack, you were with the three of us the other night."
"Shielding's not a conscious skill." Anna took a few steps away. Daniel automatically followed. "And telepathy takes some effort. I don't go around snooping into people's thoughts without permission, Dr. Jackson. Particularly without cause. And never to satisfy a purely personal curiosity." Even with cause, and for her own survival not merely curiosity, she was uneasy with the snooping she'd been doing the past few minutes. "Dr. Jackson..."
At that moment, several things happened at once. There was a shout from a floor above that echoed down the opening. There was a crunching, cracking roar of concrete breaking away and falling. Daniel, standing directly below the hole in the ceiling, looked up at the approaching avalanche.
Anna blamed her slow reaction on the drugs still in her system. It seemed to take forever, an eternity in slow motion. Jagged chunks of concrete rained down from above. Daniel was struck by the leading edge before Anna recovered her presence of mind to fling a telekinetic shield over the fallen archeologist.
When the dust and debris had settled, Daniel lay still under Anna's dome of protection. The rest of his teammates jumped forward to help him and were stalled by the invisible barrier.
Jack whirled on the woman he'd thought he'd known. "Get this down. Now. He needs help. Medical attention."
Anna already knew that, as her barrier disintegrated and she joined him beside Daniel. The left side of her body was on fire. She could feel Daniel's blood, a warm and coppery tide ebbing, ebbing. "Get back. I can help him."
"You've already helped enough." Jack said furiously. Anna only gave him a calm look before turning to where Dr. Frasier was kneeling beside Daniel, her hands pressed over the pumping wound in his shoulder, as she called for assistance, equipment.
Anna laid her hands over Dr. Frasier's and met panicked brown eyes with her own, as deep and green as the forest. "It's severed the artery. His shoulder is shattered, his arm in pieces. You can't help him. I can."
"No. No. I have to..."
"Janet." Anna said her name, only her name, yet it broke through to the trained professional inside the scared woman.
Many things ran through the doctor's mind in that split second. What she'd seen. What she'd heard. What she knew. What she hoped. And most of all, the picture of Ayiana, the supposed Ancient and ancestor, kneeling, as the woman beside her was kneeling, calm and confident as she healed Janet's sick friends.
Dr. Frasier surrendered her place and Anna blocked the protests and questions that followed, leaving the doctor to deal with them. Only Daniel mattered, and he was losing his battle.
She descended quickly into herself, into the body under her hands. Even horribly injured, the bright, white light of Daniel's soul pulsed strong. She touched, connected, adjusted her own energies to mesh before turning her attention to the physical injury.
Crushed flesh, shattered bone, pulverizing pain, she took them into herself, made them her own, perceived the insult of injury in her own cells. And healed them.
Teal'c had hauled Jack away from Daniel and Anna. Jack shrugged off the restraint and watched the woman he loved do the impossible. Her eyes took on that eerily golden glow, her hands as well. The blood flowing from Daniel's mangled side slowed to a trickle. Stopped. The jagged edges of bone and exposed muscle sank back into their proper places and were covered by magically repaired skin. Within a span of moments, Daniel was completely restored.
Anna's hands fell away and Daniel gave a huge sigh. He opened his eyes and looked around, lifted his hand to watch it as he closed and opened a fist. He wiggled his shoulder experimentally and felt around with the other hand for remnants of the injury. With his newly healed hand he took one of Anna's. "Thank you." Anna gave him a tired smile.
"That was... Incredible." Janet commented quietly from the other side of Daniel.
That's impossible kept repeating itself in Jack's mind. He had only accusations left. "If you can do that, why aren't you working in a hospital somewhere? Why are you wasting that being some singer in a two-bit club."
Anna sighed to herself as the pain increased. It would be an instant, but it would be complete. "Because I've learned that I can't heal everyone. And power always has a price."
Janet gasped in horror, and the others watched, as Daniel's injury appeared on Anna's body. The crushed shoulder and arm, waves of blood. It grew to fullness and disappeared quickly, a matter of seconds only, but no one in the room doubted that Anna was paying for the use of her power.
She faltered and nearly keeled over, but caught herself. There was one more thing she had to do. "Please, everyone, move back." She hoped she had enough strength left.
She stood and moved to the clear space underneath the hole she'd created. Reaching deep, she found the core of her gifts. Tapping her own clean, white power, Anna lifted her arms.
Sensing upward, she created a barrier, gently moving the bystanders away. She could see, in her mind, how it needed to be. Using the raw materials from the destruction, she began to create.
What the others saw was the holes above them disappearing, repairing themselves out of thin air, the concrete rubble around them slowly disappearing. In no longer than it had taken her to heal Daniel, Anna had also reconstructed three floors of Stargate Command.
In the silence that followed, Jack watched Anna lower her arms. She staggered and looked at him blankly. He heard her faint "Oh, dear."
Anna didn't know, because she was unconscious, that she was caught before she hit the floor, and cradled gently in the arms of the man who'd brought her there.
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Jack pulled his truck in behind the red convertible at the curb in front of her house. He turned the key in the ignition and sat back against the plush leather seat with a sigh. It had been 33 hours and twenty minutes since he'd last seen Anna Jordan.
But who was counting?
Her fainting spell had lasted long enough to worry him, though she had discounted it when she'd finally woken up. She'd "used up her energy reserves doing such strenuous workings so close together" - whatever that meant.
What it had meant was that she needed to eat. A lot. Even if that meant a double helping of the cafeteria special. Now he understood why she was always hungry. Apparently, doing witch stuff burned calories like they were going out of style.
Carter had handled the KP duties, and getting Anna dressed. And he hadn't noticed, at all, what standard Air Force issue black T-shirt and khakis did to her figure. No, sir. He'd been all business, no-nonsense, completely professional through the following briefing where Daniel and Carter had told her about the Star Gate.
She'd ignored him completely.
Anna had accepted the facts easily enough. She'd found the videos and other visual records fascinating, the concept intriguing, the Goa'uld contemptible. She'd had questions, certainly, particularly about her own place in the story, once Dr. Frasier had explained her theories. And at the end she'd seemed open to continuing a dialogue with Carter and Frasier about the possibilities involving her heritage.
She'd pleaded tiredness, which again no one doubted, least of all him. He could see her wilting, dark circles under her eyes. When General Hammond had offered to have him drive her home, she refused with an cool "I'm sure Colonel O'Neill has more important things to do."
So Carter had taken care of that as well. He'd last seen Anna as the elevator doors closed, cutting off her impassive stare. That had been 33 hours and... twenty-two minutes ago.
But he was not counting.
What he had been doing was quite a bit of thinking. It wasn't a habit he wanted to get into. Thinking. About life. Love. Family. The important things, Daniel would say. The things that really mattered. He hated thinking about that stuff. It made his head hurt.
His life was just fine as it was. Simple. Uncomplicated. Nothing at all to think about. That was exactly the way he liked it.
He had a good job with just enough responsibility, a quiet house to retreat to when he wanted to be alone, good friends to hang with when he didn't. He had enough money for his needs and a comfortable retirement whenever he got around to retiring. He had things to do, places to go.
He had... Nothing, he realized bleakly. And if he didn't fix things up with Anna, his life would continue along the same as always. Going nowhere with no one. At the end of the day, when all was said and done, his life outside of Cheyenne Mountain was pretty bleak.
After Sara and Charlie, he'd decided it was - safer - not to get too close to anybody. That way he wouldn't have to worry about what he would feel if something bad happened to them.
But there'd been Ska'ara and Daniel, who wouldn't let him stay isolated. And Kowalski - Damn the son of a bitch for getting killed! And later Carter, beautiful and brainy, and Teal'c's strong and steady friendship. Kynthia and Laira, who'd taught him how to love again. They'd made him remember that love was worth feeling, even if it meant the pain of loss.
He'd come a long way since that day when a single bullet from his gun had killed Charlie. All the way back from actively wanting to die, to just existing day to day not actively wanting to die, to something that actually resembled a life.
Then, along came Anna. He loved her. He knew he did. What he'd had to decide, in all that thinking, was if he wanted to keep on loving her, or if it would be better to let her go. To his way of thinking it was risky either way. It might be safer to be alone, but it was an absolutely boring lifestyle. There were, however, issues with accepting her. Big ones.
She was... different. He sometimes had a big problem with different. But... Still...
Maybe she didn't love him anymore. He'd hurt her pretty bad, both physically and emotionally. She must feel like she'd been betrayed, or worse. If there was a worse. She must feel....
Stupid, Jack. Get out of the damn truck and go ask her how she feels.
He slammed the door and started up the walk. He had a brief thought that she might not be home, despite the fact that her car was still here. The thought went away when he started feeling the air thicken around him. It got hard to breath, hard to walk through. Each breath, each step was a struggle. He supposed it could be some kind of spell she'd left like a trap, but it - felt - very personal. She didn't want him there.
Wasn't that too damn bad?
Getting mad seemed to help, making the last few steps to the front door easier. He rapped on the wood. "Anna? Come on, let me in."
The air thickened again and tried to push him back, but he held his ground and knocked again. When there was no answer, he tried the doorknob - and jerked his arm back when an electrical shock banged up his arm. "That's not fair, Anna. You open this door right now. I'm not going away until we talk, so you may as well let me in."
The air - the feeling in the air - seemed to change from defiance to guilt - against her religion to hurt somebody, he thought snottily, shaking his tingling hand back to life - then to resignation. He heard the deadbolt snick back, the door lock turn, and the thickness evaporated around him.
Okay, let's see what else she has planned. He tapped at the knob at couple times, but he remained un-zapped when he turned it. Entering the foyer, he looked around suspiciously, sure she would try something else. But the first floor was empty as far as he could see. It - felt - empty. Unwelcoming. Upstairs, then.
He never would have admitted it if there'd been anyone with him, but he could - feel - her, in his head. Like the air outside, he knew where she was, sense her presence. And if that didn't sound like he was going around the woo-woo bend!
He was cautious when he got to the top of the stairs and started down the hall. The house itself was quiet. Too quiet. He stopped in front of her closed bedroom door. In here.
He called to mind the layout of the room from his previous visits. It was as reflective of the woman who slept there as the rest of her house.
Comfortably worn antique rugs were strewn over glowing wood. An overstuffed chair in a warm fabric sat with a floor lamp in an alcove lined with more books. A vanity that reminded him of his mother was covered with dainty, female pots and bottles. The large dresser matched the four-poster bed. A bed covered in crisp white sheets and fluffy pillows that caused him more than a few twinges as he - unintentionally, of course - imagined Anna there.
As wary as if this was his most important black ops mission, Jack slipped through the door. Anna was curled up in the window seat overlooking her back garden, clutching a pillow. Her pale pink satin robe made her skin fragile, translucent porcelain. Her green eyes were vulnerable, with the traces of tears trailing down her bruised cheek. Because he wanted to wipe those traces away, he put his hands firmly in his pockets as he came to stand near her.
"You've been crying." Oh, for cryin' out loud, O'Neill, that was brilliant!
Anna closed her eyes and sighed as another tear squeezed out. She didn't think it was possible to hurt so much. "I don't have anything more to say to you."
"Good. You can just listen then." He rocked on his toes, trying to decide how to start, and decided to go with what came naturally. "I guess you're pretty steamed, and you have a right to be, but I'm not here to apologize, because if the same set of circumstances happened again I'd do exactly the same thing."
Anna didn't respond, only kept looking out the window. Well, he hadn't expected this to be easy.
"You know what we're up against now. With the Goa'uld you don't get any second chances. You get them before they get you or you end up dead - or worse, you don't end up dead. You wake up and there's a snake running your life and you can't do a damn thing about it."
"I'm not a Goa'uld." She said flatly, still not looking at him.
"No, you're not. But I didn't have any way of knowing that."
"You could have trusted me." There, of course, that was the cruelest hurt. She'd trusted him with everything, and he'd thrown it back in her face. With his fist.
"I did." At her mocking look, he continued. "I did trust you, on some level. Otherwise I would have just shot you."
Anna tossed down the pillow and shoved past him. "And that's supposed to be the good part?"
"I said you have right to be mad." She crossed her arms and turned her back on him. "Look, all I'm asking for is the same as you, Anna. You want me to accept you for who you are - for all of who and what you are. Don't you think I deserve at least the same consideration here? This is what I am, what I do. It's not like you didn't know I was a Colonel in the Air Force. If that was going to be a big stumbling block you shouldn't have let things go so far between us."
Because she'd already thought of that, and didn't like him bringing it up, she ignored it. "Is that what you came to say?"
"Part of it." Damn. It didn't look like she was softening any. Time to bring up some of that stuff he didn't want to think about. "Anna." He took a step towards her, but stopped cold when she stiffened, something he didn't want to identify as fear in her eyes.
He tried again, more gently. "Anna, we had something pretty good between us. I know things have gotten kind of.... screwed up. And I guess you think that's my fault." Oh, she had that sarcastic look down pat. "Yeah, well, maybe it is, and maybe it isn't. The thing to remember is that we had something special, something... important - to both of us - and I'm not willing to just give it up." Okay, enough said, O'Neill, time for a tactical retreat. "That's what I came to say. When you want to talk, you know where to find me."
Anna didn't answer him, and he didn't expect her to. With a sigh he walked to the door.
Coward, Anna berated herself as she watched him walk away, trying to shake off the hold of old fears. Hadn't he just said everything she'd wanted to hear? Was she going to remain alone for the rest of her life because of her pride? Pride was such a small thing, in reality, and no comfort when faced with a solitary, barren future.
Her choices seemed clear: Remain alone with her pride intact and her heart broken, or take a chance on the man she loved. She spoke quickly, before she could change her mind. "Why?"
Jack froze, his hand on the doorknob. "Why what?"
"Why is what we had so important?"
Okay, Jack. How're you going to answer the jackpot question? His conscience and his own pride demanded only the truth. "Because I'm in love with you."
He didn't wait for her response, but stopped when her hand covered his on the knob. He looked up, surprised, to meet her eyes. They weren't all gooey and lovey-dovey like he might have wanted, or sarcastic, or even angry like he might have expected. They were clear and even. Serious. "Say that again."
Christ, he didn't think he could say it the first time! Jack took a deep breath, and let it out in a rush. "Are you sure you can't just read my mind?" He asked plaintively.
"You know I can't. And even if I could, I wouldn't. I need to hear you say it, Jack, at least once."
"If you're sure once will be enough...." She didn't laugh, only waited patiently. "Okay. Here goes." His nerves stretched tight and his muscles tensed for rejection. "I love you, Anna."
Her fingers twined their hands together. "Why didn't you say that ten minutes ago?"
Jack shrugged. "I guess I had some other things that I needed to say first." He took her other hand and held it as well, and allowed himself the smallest space to hope. "I meant what I said, Anna. I'm not giving you up without a fight."
"We can fight if you want," she moved closer the step that separated them,"But I think we can find a better way to occupy our time." Anna breathed in the smell of him, the feel of him, the knowledge that she didn't have to live without him when there was another choice. "If you still want me."
Ah, there was that smile. The ice that was heavy in his stomach thawed, then heated as she started - nibbling. Oh. My. God. "Anna." Came out as a strangled moan. He fisted his hands in the thick mahogany silk of her hair. "Be sure. I don't think I could stand it if you're not sure."
"I'm sure, Jack." Her hands drifted to the lapels of her robe. God, he'd forgotten that's all she was wearing. The pink satin parted, exposed the curve of bare shoulders, bare - everything - as it fell to the floor. "Stay with me tonight."
"Okay. Yeah. I'll..." The breath clogged in his throat, she was so beautiful. His hand slid from her hair to glide along the satin curve of her shoulder. When she startled at the contact his eyes leapt to meet hers. However confident her words, those eyes were full of nerves and apprehension. "Anna?"
She wanted this, wanted him. This had been her decision. But she knew the pounding of her heart was as much from panic as from desire. "I'm sure, Jack. It's just... been a while since I've done this."
"So we'll take it slow." He ran his hands up and down her back. "Relax." He whispered as his lips trailed over her cheek. "It's like riding a bicycle. You never forget once you learn."
How could she tell him that she'd never learned this lesson? That she'd never felt like this before? It was so obviously trite and cliche. She steadied herself and reached for the wanting, setting nerves aside, or at least letting them sink underneath. "I don't think I want to relax."
"Okay." Still he stroked, his hands gentle, his lips tempting, gliding along her throat, arousing and soothing at the same time. "I'm not going to ask you again."
Her skin began to shiver. "I don't want you to." The shiver worked it's way to her belly. She used her own hands to trace the shape of his face. "You won't have to."
"Good." His teeth scraped along her jaw, closing lightly over her chin before moving to her lips. "Because I really suck at small talk."
Her laugh was breathy, not her own and cut off completely as his mouth took hers, hard and hot, in a proprietary kiss that was so different from what they'd shared before. The leap from playful to possessive was so fast she could do nothing but cling while he ravaged.
Never, she thought as her mind reeled and her body strained against his. She had never felt so needy, so out of control. She wanted him. To touch him, taste him, feel him, in every pore. On a jolt of need she answered the demand of his kiss with demands of her own, her fingers digging into strong muscles of shoulder and back.
It wasn't just wanting, she realized dizzily. This was craving.
Her scent was everywhere, her hair, her skin, the very air seemed bathed in it. The delicate, silky texture of that fragrance misted over his mind. Her quiet, throaty moans when he touched, tasted, sprinted through his blood.
The light was changing, day to night. He wanted to see the twilight glow move over her, watch it catch in the green jewels of her eyes. He wanted the darkness of her hair spread over the white of the sheets. He wanted her skin, blushing under his fingers, her voice to call out his name.
His. Only his.
And she would, he promised himself as he lifted her in his arms. Before they were done, she would.
He laid her on the white sheets and sat beside her, looking his fill. Golden light poured through the windows. White sheets, mahogany silk, flush of heat. Oh, yeah.
What was he doing? she wondered, struggling not to cover herself from his searing eyes. Had she done something wrong already? "Jack?"
"Damn." He said conversationally. "I've got a problem."
"What?" Oh, Goddess, not now. Please, not now. "What's wrong?"
"I have way too many clothes on, and it's going to take way too long to get undressed."
Her laugh started out shaky, but firmed as her courage returned. "Is that all?"
The nerves disappeared from her eyes, replaced by that weird glow. He felt a tingling all over his body that had nothing to do with seeing the woman on the bed beside him and everything to do with the witch. In an instant, he was naked down to his dog tags, watching his neatly folded clothes settle on the side chair, his shoes sliding underneath. When he turned back, her eyes were simply green again, though wary, watching for his reaction.
What the hell? "Cool." And was rewarded by the shy smile he so loved. She held out her arms, but he only took her hands, lightly nibbling on her knuckles. "This might take me a while." He didn't know how, but he was going to give it a try. For both of them.
"That's okay." Her breath caught and released on a sigh. "Take your time."
It wasn't easy, the need to simply possess was huge, but he didn't rush. He used just his lips on her hand, just his hands on her arm, nuzzling, massaging away her anxiety until it drained away.
He could feel it draining away. Feel the lingering tension being replaced by something looser, warmer. He went slowly, for both of them, savoring, seeking more of her surrender.
Her breath trembled out, and she arched under his searching lips as they feasted on the long line of her throat. Flowed back in a rush when his tongue slid toward her breast.
Reverently, his hands, his mouth moved over her, exploring the slope of her shoulder, the slim line of her torso, nuzzling the curve of her belly. He felt the muscles under his lips quiver. Felt his own jerk in sympathetic unison at the friction of her skin against his.
The thrill spread through her, slowly, so slowly, fingers of pleasure that rose towards aching. As the aches built she fisted her hands in the sheets to stop herself from begging him to go faster.
She wanted to touch him, as he was touching her, to comb her fingers through his hair, to run them over his body, but was afraid that if she released her anchor, even for an instant, that she would fly away and be lost in the swirling pleasure.
He nipped lightly at her thigh and she turned her face to the mattress, choking back a moan. He slipped and slid along the edge of heat, turning moan into sob, and sob into quick, gasping cries.
Her need was his need, and still he didn't rush. His mouth, his hands were everywhere, urging her higher. Seeing her eyes go shocked, go blind as she rose up was glorious. When she went limp, he moved up her body with lazy kisses. And wanted more.
His need was her need. The feeling in her mind, her body. The connection she'd looked for and finally found. Her heart was thudding under his mouth, and its beat leapt faster when her fingers tangled in his hair, pressed him closer, then streaked down his back. She pressed her body along the length of his and found his mouth in a desperate kiss.
"Please. Please." She pleaded, though she wasn't sure for what. This landscape was totally foreign to her, the destination an unknown heaven only glimpsed from afar. She bucked under his urging hand, those clever fingers, and charged towards madness.
When she was helpless and shuddering, he crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing her cry as he dove into her. Moved with her, the fast rise and fall. Each time her breath would catch, his blood beat faster.
He watched her, as the lasts glints of sunlight moved across her face and caught in the depthless green of her eyes. A glowing, that came from nowhere and everywhere, filled the darkening room.
She lifted a hand to his cheek, and there was wonder in her voice when she said his name. His. Only his. "Jack."
The beauty of it all but drowned him, as everything shattered.
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In Jack's opinion, one of the best things about making love was floating along on the warmth of satisfaction after. There was something incredibly soft and lovely about a woman's body that made it the perfect resting place. So he snuggled in as dusk took over the room.
Anna could feel his heart beating hard against her own. Not nearly as used to cuddling in the aftermath of making love, she wondered if he was going to fall asleep. That was a good sign. Wasn't it? She hated herself for being stupid. Hated knowing that now that her mind was clearing, the doubts could creep in.
She could hardly ask him if it was good for him without sounding ridiculous. But it didn't stop her from wanting to know.
He could feel her mind working a mile a minute, and just as a precaution, because it never hurt to be prepared, he tucked her a little closer. "You know, for a minute there, I thought we were glowing."
"We probably were." She tried to speak easily, normally. Except this situation wasn't normal for her. And it wasn't easy.
"Damn. I'm better than I thought." He nuzzled her ear to encourage her laugh.
"I don't think that's possible." Oh, yes, she did love him. Wanting to see him, she gestured absently towards the night stand where a candle flickered to life. "The glowing's sort of a... witch thing."
"A witch thing." He forced himself not to stare at the glimmering flame, wondering if he might get used to those casual gestures someday. He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. "You thought it might happen. That's why you said you wouldn't be able to hide it once I came to your bed."
"I knew it was a possibility. You might have been a little startled if it had happened out of the blue, so to speak."
"I don't know, I am pretty good." He raised up on one elbow so he could see her face better.
"Yes, you are. More than you know." She found herself struck once more by the rugged handsomeness of him; mesmerized by the wonder that a man like Jack O'Neill would not only like her, but want her. Love her. Of their own accord, it seemed, her fingers traced his features. "Though I didn't understand how much more there could be. How could I have known that love could make such a difference?" The tip of her index finger moved as lightly as a butterfly over his lips. "How could I have known, when I've never..."
"Never what?" She closed up, as completely as a clam. The transformation was astonishing. Then it hit him, everything she'd said about her marriage and her husband. "My wedding night was a disaster, and it went downhill from there." "Wait a minute. You've never... Never?"
"That's not a fact you were ever supposed to know." She was twisting her fingers together, her nerves back in full force. Jack grabbed both her hands, capturing them above her head. His irritation, always close to the surface when faced with the injustice of her former life, was starting to spike. It was the first time he'd ever felt compelled to punch a dead man.
"You mean to tell me, you were married to that..." Rat bastard, son-of-a-bitch, "Man - and I'm using the term loosely - for fifteen years - and he never once took the time to make sure you got as much pleasure as he did?"
Anna shrugged awkwardly in his grip. A move that said it doesn't matter. He wondered how long it had taken her to convince herself?
"He said... He said it was my fault." Anna watched Jack's whiskey brown eyes turn to black lightening. "And we weren't... intimate... after Maia was born."
"And you believed him." He said it as a statement, not a question. Of course, she'd believed him. Whatever trumped up reasons he'd told her, she'd believed him. He pushed away from her to sit on the side of the bed.
"It doesn't matter." She could feel the tears backing up in her throat and struggled to dam them up. "I'm sorry."
"If you think it doesn't matter then you're wrong. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm not angry at you. Damn it, Anna. If you apologize again I am going to get pissed off." He saw the single tear course down her cheek. Because of it, and the apprehension in her eyes, he grabbed for his temper.
"Jack." She wasn't sure what to do, so she reached out to touch his shoulder. He jerked away, but not before the violence spilled over to her through the contact. The connection, mind to mind, that she'd been missing with him clicked into full effect.
"Don't." He snapped at her, every nerve inside him tensed. When he turned to her, before he turned to her, he saw her quietly pleading eyes. Clamping down tightly on his feelings he gently picked up her hand from the covers and kissed the palm. "Just give me a minute, okay?"
When his eyes met hers again she saw the anger was still there, alive and restless, fierce enough to steal her breath, but his lips had been gentle. How could there be such ferocity side by side with such tenderness? Through their link, she felt his struggle to control it as it twisted through him.
To give them both time to settle, she slipped from the bed to pick up her robe and put it on. Her first instinct was to retreat, to avoid any confrontation, to ignore the welter of emotions running amok in both of them, and she cursed herself for falling into that typical and pathetic mind set.
No. Not again. Not ever again.
Jack still sat on the edge of the bed, his head cradled in his hands. She knelt in front of him, and when he looked up, laid her mouth on his in a soft kiss that soothed them both.
"Anna, can you understand that it tears me up inside to know what you went through? Especially when I can't do anything about it."
"I think so." Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I forget sometimes that I'm not that person anymore. That I made myself over into someone different. That I changed my future." She kissed him on both cheeks. "I've been so many things in my life, Jack. Some I wanted to be, some I didn't. Some I liked and some I didn't. But I've never been a woman until right now. And I think I like this best of all."
"Oh, yeah?" Settled and calmed as quickly as the fury had built, he pulled her onto his lap and moved the robe aside to expose her shoulder. "What part did you like best, exactly?"
"I'm not sure. I may need another example before I can say." When he laughed and tumbled her onto the bed, she found she could ask after all. "What about you?"
"You want to know how it was for me?" He got the shy smile with tempting eyes and for once, couldn't find the words. He glanced around and settled on the flickering candle. Oh, yeah. "It was pure magic, Anna. Pure magic." He bent his head to create the spell once more.
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