Carter watched a tiny black speck of a bug make its way across the ceiling that she now officially knew as well as the back of her hand – not that she'd seen the back of her hand lately, she thought as she laid on her back on the bed, waiting for the colonel to return. She sighed. This was not how she had envisioned spending her week.

The woman had been in early this time, and she was cleaned up and restrained again in record time. She wondered what that was about, but at least Sileem hadn't insisted on watching this time. Maybe the colonel had told him he'd be back sooner than usual.

The door latch clicked, and her heart jumped. Finally, freedom! And even quicker than he'd promised. But the colonel didn't say anything this time, for a long time, and she raised her head to glance across the room at him.

It wasn't Jack. Sileem stood in the doorway, staring at her a bit too closely. Seeing her look up, a grin spread across his face. "Well, now," he said softly, "I think it's time for me to see what the fuss is all about."

"Oh, crap," Carter whispered, every muscle in her body tensing. This was very, very bad. She pulled on her restraints, knowing they wouldn't give but having to at least try, then turned her hips to replay the same fight she'd had with the colonel that first day. Sileem never saw it coming, and the first kick drove him back to the wall. "You stay away from me," she warned.

"I don't think so," he spat back. "Don't forget who owns you." He came at her again and managed to parry the first kick, but the second caught him squarely in the groin and dropped him with a strangled cry.

"No one owns me," she growled.

He stayed on the floor for a long time, curled into the injury, but when he stood, he had the stick weapon in his hand. "You will pay for that."

Carter tried desperately to shove down the panic and think as he approached her. Where the hell was the colonel? Sileem stepped within range and she kicked at him again, but cried out in pain as the weapon touched her calf. Panicked, she tried again, and Sileem dropped below the kick, along the floor, out of her reach.

Before she could react, he popped up right next to her. The hand now held a knife, which cut along her cheek as he shoved it quickly at her throat and left it there. She froze. "Are you feeling more cooperative now?" he asked, pressing down just enough to make it painful.

"Don't… please," she whispered, fighting hard against the bile rising in her throat.

Ignoring her, he shoved her knees open with his free hand and crawled between them, the knife never leaving her neck. "You'd better be worth it," he growled, shoving hard up against her.

Sam cried out in pain and closed her eyes against what was coming. She could feel him unbuttoning his pants and she started to silently pray, her pulse pounding against the sharp knife at her neck.

And then he was gone, ripped away amidst angry shouting and banging. She lifted her head and could just barely see Colonel O'Neill's back as the two men scuffled on the floor. The colonel was clearly winning, throwing punches repeatedly at the man below him. After several good hits, he picked him up and shoved him against the wall, the bloody knife now at Sileem's neck.

"We had an agreement," the colonel seethed. "A contract. And you just broke it."

"I didn't – I just…" the man stuttered.

"Shut up and listen. I paid you good money for this week to be the only one in this room. I promise you that if I leave this building angry, I will spread the word to every man in the galaxy that you cheat your customers. You'll be out of business in a month."

"No, no, don't do that. Surely we can work something out," Sileem pleaded. "Stay… as long as you like. On me. I'll even refund you the rest of this week."

"You'll do more than that. I told you I was picky, and I found what I wanted. I intended to return to you because of her, but somehow I get the feeling if I leave her with you, I won't want her when I get back, huh?"

"I… No, I…"

"Yesterday you hurt her. No energy at all. Kind of defeated the purpose, don't you think?"

"I, uh…"

"And now you've cut her. Ruined a pretty face."

"I'm sorry!"

"I don't give a damn about sorry. I find the best of the bunch; I even give you a second chance, and you try your damndest to ruin her. So I'm taking her with me."

Sileem blinked. "What?"

"You heard me. I'm buying her. Cheap."

"I – I mean, I don't…"

Jack pressed a little harder with the knife.

"Of course," the man hissed, and the colonel let the knife relax. "We can discuss the details in the morning, yes?"

"Fine," Jack growled, shoving him toward the door. "I want a first aid kit in my hands in the next two minutes, and then I want you gone."

Sam had pushed herself up to kneeling during the exchange, her hands still awkwardly attached to the bottom of the headboard, and she watched the colonel gingerly as Sileem disappeared for a moment, returned and shoved a box into Jack's hands, then left for good.

Colonel O'Neill didn't turn around. Nor was he breathing fast from the fight, as Sam was. He just stood there, back ramrod straight, every muscle tight. Angry. No, homicidal. And he was using every ounce of energy he possessed not to run after Sileem and beat him into the next life. She had never, ever seen him quite this upset.

As much as Carter wanted to throw herself face down on the bed and cry for the next two hours, her training (and her restraints) wouldn't let her. Shoving her feelings down as far as possible, she tried to de-escalate the tension. "Sir," she said softly, "I'm okay."

He didn't move, didn't react. Her words hung in the air for what seemed like hours before he spoke. "He could have killed you. He could have…." He couldn't even finish that thought.

"Sir, you're doing everything you can."

"It's not enough!" he roared, spinning to face her. He immediately regretted his anger when she flinched – she was the victim, after all. And, he realized, she was still restrained. He cursed shortly and marched over to release her hands.

"Thanks," she murmured, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He set the first aid kit down next to her and set about cleaning her wounds. She flinched at the sting, and he pulled back, avoiding her eyes. He hated seeing her in pain.

"Carter." He desperately didn't want to ask this question. "I have to know. Yesterday, when you were…. Did he…"

She shook her head. "No."

Relief slammed into him, and he let his head drop to his chest, taking her hands in his. "I thought…"

"Sir," she said softly, waiting for him to look at her before she continued. "It's gonna be okay."

To her surprise, he chuckled. "Carter… I think that's my line."