CHOSEN HEARTS SERIES
NEVER SAY NEVER, CHAPTER TWELVE
I want to apologize to my readers for the long delay. Lots of life issues kept me away, along with finishing some earlier episode stories for this series that screamed at me for attention. I'm back and hope you will continue to read and support the Chosen Hearts series, especially Never Say Never.
I look forward to reading your replies on fanfic or any personal ones you send me.
Always,
HailDorothy
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Something huge was going down. Jack, Cassandra, Daniel and Teal'c had literally vanished from Sam's surface life. Grace, JJ and Charlie said they'd no idea what was going on. Yeah right, and the moon was made of cheese. She hated being out of the loop but more importantly lied to by her family.
On a more personal note Sam kicked herself--repeatedly. Ten days ago, she'd almost thrown herself into Jack's arms. He'd never cheated on her--once! Now she wondered how'd she'd ever thought him capable. Suspicious minds. Fortunately, she'd walked-in on the tail end of his and Daniel's conversation. She'd heard enough to know Kerry Johnson was the base chiropractor and had given Jack an adjustment that night in the barn. Nothing more. Sam was such an idiot. She also realized there was nothing simple or normal about her relationship with Jack O'Neill, let alone their marriage. He hadn't chased after her nor had she expected him too, although she sure wouldn't have minded to see that kink in his armor. Coz, she knew she'd seen it a lot more often before they were married.
So here they were another week later and not even to first base. He'd not so much as made a pass or said something sexually noteworthy. Then again, neither had she. Would either of them ever surrender? Never say never, Sam. Where had she heard that stupid line? Yet the more they avoided each other the more she wanted him. She felt like a cat in heat. Not that she had any idea of how a cat felt. Oh, yes she did! Horny. And even when she relieved herself in the darkness of night that wasn't enough. More than half her waking hours were filled with sordid visions of making out with Jack O'Neill. Doing erotic things to him that'd make a grown man groan . . .um weep. She had clear memories how Jack looked and sounded in the throes of lovemaking. Beautiful!
"Stop it," she chastised herself, "Think of something else." She couldn't. Despite the occasional eye candy that came and went from the farm, not one of those handsome men in uniform tripped her trigger. Just Jack. Why? Well besides the fact they were married and she was lustfully in love with him, she thought she'd at least enjoy the scenery. Nope. It only made her want Jack more.
Sam was thankful for the children's presence because when Jack was out of sight she seriously focused on them. Strange, how her need to bond with her children was equal if not stronger than being with Jack. She knew all about natural maternal instinct but this bordered on obsession. Which made Sam question her sanity. This powerful emotion didn't seem rational. No doubt it was part of her Ancient DNA, of which she had yet to recall all the details. Although she'd gotten a huge hint yesterday when she'd overhead Grace and JJ talking in his bedroom.
"She obviously doesn't have a clue." JJ grumbled, sitting cross legged on his bed with a comic book in hand, while Grace sat in a chair with a three year old teen magazine.
"Mom's smart, she'll figure it out, she always does."
"Yeah, well before or after she makes a fool out of herself and jumps dad in front of us."
"JJ!" Grace hissed, "It doesn't work that way. Besides, that's why dad's keeping clear of her."
"Oh, pleez," the younger boy snickered. "I've been around long enough to know what happens when an Ancient branded female goes into heat and how little restraint either of the couple have during the heat."
"It's called Sha'rutt, not heat."
"Whatever! It's the same thing that Cass's got and why she and Daniel are holed up at their place all week. The poor guy." He tossed his comic book aside.
"Don't pity him, JJ. Daniel's in Sha'rutt too. It's the way God created us Ancients. Someday we'll experience the same joyful pleasure with our chosen hearts."
"Gag me!" JJ stuck a finger down his throat. "It's down right embarrassing to know our father, General Jonathon O'Neill, is walking around with a twenty-four-seven boner for our mother. Crap! I can't wait for this stupid full moon to end. Why can't we be like other folks . . ."
Yeah, that'd been an eye-opening ear-full. Heart pounding, Sam had snuck back into the kitchen and then outside to where the twins played in the sandbox, while Thor kept watch. There, she downloaded what she'd overheard, deciding that Sha'rutt sounded far better than 'being in heat.'
Sam now forced her thoughts back to the present. Regarding their children Sam had no favorites. She loved each child unconditionally, although she did fixate a little more on the twins because she'd missed so much of their first three years. And then there was Charlie-Chuck. There was a definite wall of distrust between them and she had no idea how to break it down. To date he'd never sought her out alone and only spoke to her when necessary. Well, there was the exchange three days ago. A conversation that disturbed her but she'd yet to tell anyone, including Jack.
After rarely getting past the front yard, she'd been poking inside the barn when someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Whatcha doing here?"
On voice alone Sam turned expecting Jack. She instead encountered Charlie's brown suspicious glint. Everything from his unruly reddish-brown hair to deep-dimpled tanned cheeks reminded Sam of a younger Jack. It was difficult to believe that Charlie once walked with a limp and had a failing heart. She longed to tell him how thankful she felt toward the Tok'ra for healing him. Charlie was her and Jack's first son. Remembering how close they'd once been, she missed him terribly and her desire to embrace him felt stronger than ever. That wouldn't happen anytime soon. Charlie's years with the Tok'ra made him highly suspicious and with just cause.
Donning a mask of confidence she squared her shoulders and met his unreadable O'Neill expression. "I was restless and came outside for exercise." She shrugged.
"Well, the barn's off limits." He glanced to the base of transport rings a few feet inside of the barn's ground floor.
"Not that I recall."
An inch taller than Jack, Lieutenant Charlie O'Neill posed an intimidating stance above her. "Well it is."
"Charlie?" she asked in a softer voice. "I'm your mom and I--."
"No you're not." He huffed.
"I don't understand." She nibbled her lower lip and stared up at him.
"My mother was a Re'tu."
"I know she . . . umm raised you for awhile, but I'm your biological mother, Charlie."
"Are you?"
"Yes."
"Well that's a matter of opinion. I for one think it's awfully convenient how you've waltzed in here after almost three years and everyone, including the General has accepted you for Samantha Carter."
"Your father has hardly accepted me—yet."
"Oh, he's close to cracking, which I'm sure makes you happy." He snorted.
"This isn't about my happiness, Charlie. I don't expect to be treated differently than anyone else. I'm used to working, using my head and hands to fix problems. I want to do my part defeating the Replicators and Wraith. So far all I do is clean, cook and—"
"Despite being an Air Force Colonel and one of the greatest hero's I've ever known, my mother enjoyed household duties. She loved being a wife and mother." He snorted. "But then, if you are Samantha Carter–O'Neill, you'd know that."
Sam sensed the little boy inside this young man lashing out. He wanted to hurt her for leaving him. "I'm sorry, Charlie." She reached up and touched his tensed jaw. This was the first they'd touched since her return. Something emotional and metaphysical passed between them. Sam had the same experience with her other children weeks ago. Charlie flinched and pulled back. She knew he'd felt the strange yet pleasing connection.
"It'll take a lot more than static electricity and being sorry to win me over." He turned and opening the barn's service door ushered her outside. Sam reluctantly complied. She wondered where her military grit had gone. But this wasn't about the military. This was personal. This was family.
"My mother used to make special pancakes when I came home," he threw out at her.
"Chocolate Chips pancakes with ice-cream," Sam replied off the top of her head. The stunned look on his face confirmed she was right.
"What kinda ice-cream?"
"Er—um, French Vanilla."
The flicker of a smile touched his brown eyes then vanished. "Wrong." He snickered.
"Oh."
"And Carter," Charlie said in Jack's matter of fact tone.
"What, son?" she refused to let him intimidate her.
"If you hurt dad or any of the kids you'll deal with me. And I promise it won't be pleasant." Charlie slammed the barn door and left Sam pondering his hurtful words. Fighting back tears she turned and walked dejectedly back to the house.
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Meanwhile, every night fear enveloped her. Not just about Charlie's distrust, but fears she couldn't nail down, but knew as well as she loved Jack O'Neill, that there was a logical reason for her anxiety. Weird as it seemed, she expected to see Fifth popped out of the woodwork any moment. Sam's greatest fear was she'd never left the Replicator ship, that everything happening to her was Fifth playing with her mind.
Nervous and afraid, she'd made her routine rounds in the secured house checking that doors were locked, windows sealed. According to Teal'c, Jack had the two-story log house and surrounding acreage encased with the same force field used on Atlantis. Didn't that require a ZPM? She remained vague on many details, but her recollections continued to improve.
Teal'c had shared that Ishta and their children had recently moved to the planet of the Knox for safety. It'd been a hard but right decision to make for now. Smart man, she'd mused. He missed them and from what she recalled of the Jaffa warrior woman, Ishta, not being on the front lines with her husband would prove difficult. As if he'd sensed Sam's thoughts Teal'c shared that Ishta took her role to teach their children how to fight like free Jaffa, seriously. Sam pondered how the passive Knox handled Ishta's mindset. The thought made her smile.
Sam began to remember people like Cameron Mitchell, Vala Mal Doran, General Landry, Rodney McKay, Elizabeth Weir and John Sheppard. Wisps of incidents and people. She'd been surprised to learn that Elizabeth and John were married and had supervised Atlantis until the planet had fallen to the replicators. When asked if they were alive no one answered. Sam took that for a no. Or not? What she wouldn't give for one straight answer.
And then there was one General Jack O'Neill, a constant contradiction. The undisputed commander of Earth's defenses, a passionate father and a pain in the butt, husband.
To add to Sam's frustration with this man, the last few nights had grown harder to get through. Um, maybe she should rephrase that? She suspected it had to do with the approaching full moon. Sam never slept well this time of the month or as far as she recalled. And the cause of her sleeplessness was Jack O'Neill.
The object of her thoughts stealthy followed her as he had previous nights. Tonight, he didn't unbolt the locks but reopened windows to let in the cooler night. Although autumn, this evening proved extremely warm. There was no central air. A Naquadah Reactor supplied power for the refrigerator, walk-in freezer unit, and spring-well and hot water heater. Everything else was fueled by manpower or firewood, including heating the house.
The centralized fireplace had internal fans and each bedroom held a potbelly stove vented through an elaborate air exchange system. Sam soon remembered this was her efficient design and she had a backup for every system. Several camouflaged rotator windmills similar to those once used by some parts of the country before the war supplied power, but to where she wondered. Apparently the less technical the power sources, the safer they were.
The family had learned to can and dry foodstuff. There was five years of provisions including freeze-dried meats and MRE's in the root cellar below the basement. These hidden rooms made Sam curious as to whether there was a second SGC base. Why didn't she remember, or had it been constructed after her abduction? She'd not missed the transportation rings beneath the Persian carpet that had been conveniently placed there since her arrival. Nor the rings in the barn that were used 24/7. Sam itched to enter them and see where they'd take her, but had yet to find the control panel or a hand remote. Clearly, no one intended to tell her squat, especially Jack.
Annoyed by his guarded presence she yanked opened the door, then the screen door and strolled onto the front porch. Surely that rattled his cage. She left the door ajar and sauntered to the end of the covered porch to gaze at the stars. Even here, one could see the fireworks taking place overhead as the Wraith tracked humans for harvesting and battled the Replicators for control. Truce indeed. When the screen door squeaked, Sam's chest muscles contracted and she hugged her bare arms. He had followed her. Good.
"Nice night," he said close to her ear.
"Um, yeah." Sam was mortified how easily he unglued her. "We used to spend a lot of time on this porch," she said before realizing its implications.
"And you'd know that how?" he countered, his hot breath warming her neck.
Sam turned abruptly and almost bumped into him. If her action bewildered him, he didn't show it.
"I have distinct memories."
"Ah," he nodded.
She glanced at the porch swing. "That was a favorite place. We'd sit there for hours and —"
"Yes?" He eyeballed her.
"Sw--ing." She gulped as visions of acrobatic lovemaking surfaced in her mind's eye. "And--watch the stars of course." She pointed upward to distract him from the heat tingeing her cheeks. Was it her imagination or was he grinning?
"Ah, yes the stars. They've been a part of our lives ever since we first met."
Sam sensed the dangle of bait. "Halloween. I was Dorothy in pigtails, stargazing on the White House lawn with Zorro minus his sword."
Jack coughed.
Sam smirked. It felt to see him unraveled. "So whatever happened to Toto?"
Clearing his throat, Jack said, "I believe he's in the same box that holds a spoon, yoyo, hot pink panties and. . ."
Sam waved her hand in surrender. "Um, can we come forward in time? What happened after Fifth abducted me?"
"Oh, that." He sounded uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, if you'd rather not I understand."
"No, that's not it." He scrubbed his hands over his face and through his gray hair, then puffed out his cheeks and exhaled through his mouth.
Sam waited as he seemed to collect his thoughts.
"After your abduction our first rescue mission was the SGC. The mountain had been blown apart. All attempts to enter the SGC were nil. Fortunately some of the men and women Thor hadn't managed to beam aboard were rescued and brought back with us."
"I'm glad." She turned to find his face just inches away. His sable brown stare took her off guard. Those heart-stopping brown eyes hadn't changed at all. He sidled her with a cautious glance, cleared his throat and pulled back. Da ja vu! Sam flashed years back to the SGC Control Room when her Replicator double had first contacted them. Jack had hovered closer than necessary as they looked into the computer screen. It'd been an intense moment of intimacy between them they'd not shared since she'd dated Pete.
Sam experienced that same sensation. It unhinged her. Even though he'd put a good two feet between them, she could smell his masculine essence and her blood pressure skyrocketed. Jack O'Neill was rock-hard testosterone! Barefooted, he'd not shaved and wore that unbuttoned ratty checkered flannel shirt over a thread-worn t-shirt and wash-worn blue jeans. Beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead. She felt shaky and dizzy. Sam felt horny! As if it would stop her internal reaction she took two deliberate steps from him. His scared brow arched at her defensive action.
"Soo um, our home in the Springs?" Sam need a diversion and had wanted to ask for a while.
"Last I saw it was still standing, but had been vandalized. Half the neighborhood was destroyed. I salvaged what I could of clothes, personal possessions and items the kids wanted, but the area was infested with Wraith, so I didn't hang around for the welcome wagon."
"That explains my clothes." She gestured to her favorite black jeans, blue sweater and loafers she wore.
"Actually you can thank Thor. He brought them on board when he beamed up our bedroom set. Those were in the dresser."
"Oh. They're baggy." She tugged at the belted waist.
"You lost weight." He cocked his silvery head. "It's good to see you're gaining some of it back. I never dug Twiggy."
"Excuse me?" She shrugged with confusion.
"Twiggy--British model from the seventies married to Frank Sinatra." He made a stick figure in the air.
Sam frowned.
"Had to be there." He rolled his broad shoulders and leaned back against the porch railing, crossing his long legs in a casual poise she'd remembered.
"I should remember though."
"Yeah, well . . ." He looked a way, his mouth thinned out and the crevice between his brows deepened. Even in the moonlight, Sam could see his frustration with her. What she wouldn't give for one of his rare dimpled smiles.
"Did you ever return to the Springs?" She fisted her hands and bounced them against her thighs.
"Nope. Everything I love and need is here." He faced her with an expression of unnerving intensity. It was a familiar look she'd glimpsed when he thought she wasn't looking. Just as quickly as it came, it vanished. His mask of cold indifference dropped into place. A mask Sam never liked.
"Guess you're right." She swallowed and forced her attention toward the rolling acres of farmland and woods.
A lull fell between them and Sam decided to head inside where she felt safer. So far, downtime with Jack O'Neill proved a most un-pleasurable experience. She understood his mistrust and would have reacted the same. But her heart bled from his macho apathy. She longed for his embrace. More often than not, she wanted to rip off his clothes and have her way with him. Why, she'd no idea. Because he was basically a jerk!
Hugging her chilled arms she turned toward the door. "Do they ever come here?" she asked over her shoulder.
"Who?"
"The Wraith?"
"Give them an A for effort. That's what those lightening flashes overhead are."
Sam peered upward into the night sky. A few seconds later something blinked, then another. "I thought that was the Wraith and Replicators skirmishing." She purposely sounded dense.
"No. The bigger flashes are their star wars. The small ones are unsuccessful attempts to break through the force field—but then you knew that." He snorted and she thought he rolled his gorgeous eyes. Oh, well so much for the dumb act.
"Yes, I --," she watched a June bug repeatedly bounce against the screen door and her scientist mind started running different scenarios. "Then they've never broken through?"
"Once." He leaned his right hip on the porch's wooden rail. His restless hands patted his flannel shirt and pants for his cigarettes.
Sam gulped and glanced away. She'd been pitching any partial or full wrappers she found, even if they were in his clothes. Yep, that meant she'd been feeling and smelling his clothes in their closet. Man, she was sick!
Expelling a huff he gave up and continued talking. "Last year there was an overload in the yada yada flux capacitater of the Z.P.M. powered shield that covers well, a lot of what you see." He gestured around them.
Sam smiled at his attempt to talk techno babble or fake it. He was after all, way smarter than her. He sniffed a breath, and paused as if expecting her to say something, but she wouldn't play head games. Besides she was thinking about June bugs and all the noise one bug made, making it seem like there were more bugs. . .
"And?" she urged with a hand gesture.
"Basically a window of opportunity opened and the Wraith dropped in for mid-day snacks. We were safe as we had a backup force field for the cabin and buildings. The Wraith had hunted down a camp of civilians on the other side of the pond and a few Replicators managed to come along for the ride." He pointed toward the water. "It was scary for the kids. We had to shutdown the force field so as not to attract their detector sweeps."
"What did you do?" She turned and found him looking passed her toward the pond.
"Made the place look deserted, hid the livestock and waited it out. They came and ransacked the house and barn, that's why the doors and windows got rebuilt."
"But they didn't find you?"
"No, but—" He snapped his fingers, reached down into his rolled pants leg and retrieved a used cigarette butt. Bad enough he was probably smoking three year old cigs. Now butts. Yuck!
Sam rolled her eyes as he struck a wooden match against the porch post and lit the cancer stick. Jack inhaled, held and then blow out a white spiral of smoke into the night air. She wanted to yank the poison from his lips but that'd start another argument. So she'd bid her time—for now. "Then what happened?"
"They got George and Siler."
"Oh, no!" She wrapped her arms about her chest and shivered. Tears swelled. She'd longed to ask about her Godfather, but had feared the worst. Now she knew why.
"Yeah. Siler escaped, thank God. But George insisted staying topside to distract the search party if they got too close to the Tok'ra tunnels."
"The tunnels worked like I had hoped?" She remembered!
"Yeah." He admitted then closed his eyes. "Ya know those Wraith bastards can smell us. Siler refused to let George stay alone. But George wasn't about to let a father of five sacrifice himself. He locked Siler between the blast walls. Once they caught George they feed off him. Siler heard it all—but George never gave us away." Jack's voice thickened and he tossed the stale cigarette and ground the glowing butt with his boot.
"Not Uncle George, not that way!" Sam's tremble turned to outward shaking, tears streamed down her face.
Jack stepped forward and touched her gently, but didn't offer his shoulder or arms. "I know this isn't much solace but George was already dead."
"I-I don't understand." She looked up, swiping at tears.
"He had cancer. He'd been in remission but it came back two months earlier ravaging his lungs, kidneys and liver. We'd no means to treat him then."
"The hand-healing device. Or you could have . . ." Sam couldn't believe she was hearing this.
"What?"
"Saved him."
"How?" It was more of a demand than question.
"I—I mean I just believe you could have." Sam rubbed her brow pondering why she'd ever think Jack O'Neill had some supernatural power to heal. His open mouth expression said she was nuts. Maybe she was. Or maybe his Ancient gens had . . .
"Ah . . .Well, you're wrong. For what it's worth I offered to contact the Asgard. George refused." Jack cleared his clotted throat. "Carter, General Hammond told me the day Thor beamed us all aboard, he had lived a good life and was ready to leave this world. He went out fighting for what he believed in."
"He died a hero." She sniffed, rocking in place.
"Yes. Besides Jacob Carter, George was the best man I've ever had the privilege of knowing or serving under."
The reference to her father caused Sam to swallow more tears. "Um, excuse me." She motioned to leave. His hand cupped her shoulder and pulled her back but not into his embrace where she longed to be.
"Carter?"
"What?" She glanced to where his long fingers claimed her. In the moonlight she saw his rugged face scrunch as if with pain. When he let his hand drop away, her skin missed the warmth his touch had transmitted.
"Like your dad, George died with honor, Carter." He looked down at her and for the first time since last week she saw his compassion. She wondered if he'd ever call her Sam or Samantha again. That had ended after their first conversation last week.
"I know." She sniffed a nose-full.
Jack yanked a handkerchief from his back pocket and gently pressed it against her nostrils. "Blow."
Sam obeyed. To her surprise he swabbed her nose then stuffed the soiled clothe into his back pocket as if normal. A remix of such past intimacies between them.
"Was Baal still here?"
"Yep, a regular three ring circus. But he was and still is on our side—for now."
"After all he's done to you, you trust him?"
"No. But I trust him over the Wraith and Replicators."
She held his unblinking gaze. Other than the wind stirring the trees, yapping crickets and an owl a moment settled between her and the man. For now she forgot about Baal and wallowed in her newfound grief. Four-star General George Hammond was dead!
"Uncle George died to save us." She hugged herself, wanting Jack's touch, his strong reassuring embrace. However something remained cold and barren between them. She had overlooked an important factor. Something special, unique, that was theirs exclusively and she sensed until she remembered, the emotional chill would remain.
"George died for everyone in the tunnels, Carter. Over two-thousand folks survived that night, including his grown grand-daughters and—."
"Wait! I remember." She waved a hand as memories evolved. "This is Safe Haven." She took a bold step toward Jack. "You're the head of Home World Security and this was, is the last military stronghold on Earth." It wasn't a question, but fact. Sam recalled the bulldozers, the land moving equipment, their cabin being dismantled and rebuilt three years before the invasion. She could see herself giving orders and hovering over computerized blueprints.
"My God! The Prometheus II is here below us, under the pond! And Atlantis—was beneath the Pacific, no. The plan was . . ." She rubbed her temples, then looked at Jack who wore his Black Ops face, which made Sam more confident. "If Earth were compromised, Atlantis would return to defend it and submerge beneath Lake Michigan. But, but that's not exactly how it went down. Atlantis was attacked by highbred Wraith and came here to escape them, unwittingly bringing the Wraith along. You're concealing Atlantis' existence from the Replicators and Wraith, because it's our last defense!"
She heard Jack's breath hitch before he turned away, once more patting his clothes for a cigarette.
"I'm right, aren't I?" She snatched his sleeve, her nails digging into his forearm. She felt him flinch and he turned towering over her. His dark hooded eyes concealed, his jaw worked, his lower lip flattened, the furrow between his eyebrows sliced crater deep. His lips formed his typecast 'O'Neill' open-mouth expression that made her day. Yes!
Sam was on a role. "There's a military base right under our nose. You're not out riding patrol during the day. You don't have to. You use the rings to go two miles underground. Why didn't I remember? This place was my design!"
"Yeah, the second SGC base was your brainchild, Carter. The location, my idea. I was shocked that Chiefs of Staff swallowed the idea." A hesitant smile lightened his weathered face. "Solid rock below us just like the Rocky Mountains. I named it JACOB for Jack's Alternate Cabin Operations Base."
Sam balked. That was dumbest title she'd ever heard, but she loved the sentimental link. "Oh my!" She shook her head and softly laughed. "And the Stargate?"
"Here." His mouth lifted another notch, that left dimple tucking deeper.
"And the force field, security parameters and check points cover more than a few hundred acres?"
He grinned wider. "Yeah. It originally covered three states, but even with two ZPMs we couldn't maintain that much area against the Replicators. For now it encompasses a two hundred mile radiance that's so strong, I feel confidently safe. We're working our way south toward Duluth and north to the Canadian border."
"Then you detected my arrival and let me through?"
"Yes." He sighed out. "Just didn't expect to run you over. Checkpoint Charlie spotted you at the vagrant's camp, thirty miles south. Actually, they're —"
"Military personal?"
"Yeah, a hodgepodge of Air Force, Sailor, Marines and GI's. Amazing you didn't recognize Walter."
"Was he wearing a grungy wig, beard, pierced nose and ears and hippie beads?"
"Ah yes, man of many faces." Jack nodded his silver head.
"Well, his rendition of 'We Shall Overcome' really threw me off. He can sing! I thought he looked familiar, no wonder he stayed clear of me."
"Yep, the poor guy, nearly crapped his pants when you rode in and stayed the night. Promoted him to Major last year."
"You can do that with an enlisted man?"
"Fer cryin'out loud, Carter." He rolled his eyes. "As the highest ranked living general I can do anything I want. We're the last standing Outpost in North America. Although the Russians have one in Antarctica but we haven't heard from them in months. Far as we know there's no national heads of state alive, and if there are, they haven't put up a billboard. I'm still waiting for Kinsey to show his greasy white snakehead."
"Jack, Kinsey's dead. Thor said that was just a hoax of Fifth's."
"Apparently not. Kinsey's been spotted over a dozen times by reliable sources, including Baal."
"Since when is Baal a reliable source?"
"Long-long story." He expanded his arms and gulped.
"But Kinsey would be in his eighties by now."
"Apparently Kinsey's not aged a day since he escaped after his abduction by the Goa'uld infested Trust."
"Taneth?"
"Yeah. Seems he's gotten a following of minor Goa'uld lords. But they're not hanging around the Milky Way because of the Wraith and Replicators."
"That's a relief."
Jack snorted. "For now. Just like the Wraith, the Goa'uld got all the time in the world, our world." He sniffed and rubbed his blue-shadowed jaw.
"Yeah." She breathed out and leaned against the porch rail. A long silence ensued and she turned to find him inches away, watching her with the strangest look. "So can I ask how many personnel are at the new SGC?"
"You can, but I'll save you the effort. Last head count, around five hundred folks. But only half are military and government employees. The rest are refuges and the numbers growing. Fortunately, Doctor Lee's got a working hydro-farm and we can produce our own produce year round. Thanks to the Tok'ra's tunneling process, it's a fricking metropolis down there."
"Wow!" Sam sighed out. "This is unbelievable."
"Yeah. There's that." He grinned.
"And Atlantis?"
"She got hit bad before she entered the atmosphere. It's taken all this time to get her back up to a hundred percent. Rodney's been developing a new form of energy to replace their dying ZPM."
"You got to be kidding?"
"Oh, please, me kid about McKay? Never."
Sam sobered. "So then my memories are false. Washington D.C., hiding out at the Pentagon, Janet still alive, Jonas Hanson?"
"Hanson?" Jack quirked a brow. "Not if you're thinking over twenty years ago."
"No. A few months back . . .he was alive and—"
"Crap, Carter! Captain Hanson got killed the first year we were SG-1 on PX-something or another. He thought he was God and . . ."
"Had forced the inhabitants to built a tower—"
"Yeah." Arms akimbo he cocked his head and moved closer. Something basic flickered in his keen brown eyes and made her hot. Sam trailed a finger along her damp neckline. She was burning up. Overhead, the brilliance of a gold harvest moon blocked out the stars. Man, this felt like when she'd had the Broca virus. Last week she'd heard Cass discuss the Ancient DNA mate bonding with Daniel. Sam wondered if that's what she was feeling. If so, she wasn't ready to deal with it or Jack.
"I'm so messed up, Jack." She put up a hand of warning. She wanted him so bad. Man, this felt like when she'd had the Broca virus. She blinked to shove away the livid memory of jumping a naked Colonel Jack O'Neill in the locker room. Ramming her tongue down his throat and--
"We all are, Samantha." He rescued her from her sultry memory.
He'd called her Samantha!
"No, you're right. I can't be trusted and somehow you've go to find out if Fifth planted a bug or a bomb in me."
"He probably did." Another footfall closer. Salty sweat wet her upper lip.
"Well test me or something," she said with frustration as her right heel hit the support beam. Heart rapping against her chest, Sam glanced about for a means of escape. The porch swing was just feet away and then the door. Another memory—sitting on Jack's lap in that swing, making passionate love so many times . . . Geez, was she in heat or what? And why'd that make complete sense?
"If we had the proper equipment we could, but that got destroyed at the SGC." His sexy lisp sent a shudder up her spine. "We're winging it." His voice had softened and he was just inches away. Sam looked up into his seductive dark eyes and sought another distraction.
"Um, what about Atlantis?"
"They're not in any better shape."
"The Asgard?"
"Haven't heard from them in years." Jack grazed a blunt fingertip across her cheek. His touch was electrifying and shot to her breasts and then her aching womanhood. Glory, she could almost orgasm from his touch. Never, ever had another man unhinged her this way. What was wrong with her—with them?
"Tok'ra. I err--remember they were brought onboard the O'Neill III."
"Yes, minus their technology. Believe me, they were not then nor continue to be happy campers regarding that blooper. And they're dying off . . ." He yanked off his flannel as if he were hot.
"Surely Thor had equipment?" Sam watched the play of tight muscles beneath his t-shirt. She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth to avoid the urge to touch them.
"Not our--my ship, he didn't. Something about the Replicators not being attracted to the less technical advanced ships anymore. Apparently their appetites have expanded."
"Wait weren't there Asgards on Atlantis?" Yes, another subject to detour her basic instincts toward this man. Maybe she'd run some complicated equations through her head? One plus one is two. Oy vey!
"Yes. No. According to Sheppard they were beamed off before they entered Earth's orbit. No idea why, except maybe they went back to the battlefront of their home colonies." His hands curled around her shoulders and he intently drew her against him. She stared up into his face that was too close for comfort. Jack looked at where his hands were then let go and stepped back. He looked as unwired as she felt.
"Crap!" She spouted.
"Ya think." He sniffed and scratched his lower back, then flexed his shoulders. Somehow she didn't think they were talking about the Asgard.
"So you're just going to wait and see?" Her body inched closer of its own accord. She could smell him and even over the disgusting tobacco, her lungs liked what she inhaled. The delicious ache in her womanhood heightened. Man, what was wrong with her?
"Yep. Not much choice. Besides if you are bugged and I take you below, Fifth will have a way in."
"Unless you moved the transporter rings in the cabin and the barn, I already know how to access JACOB, Jack." She lied.
"And your point is?"
"Send the kids somewhere I won't find them." Good, Sam, talk about your children. That's liable to kill any thoughts of copulation. No, wait, that's how you got six children!
"No. This is the safest place for them. They know this land and the base like the back of their hands. I've made sure. They know how to defend themselves. They're all crack shots, including Grace and JJ. The can survive here and avoid capture. But if I send them away, they'll be endangered."
"That's bullshit!" She shook a fist at him. "I'm a danger to them, to you and this entire Outpost. I'm leaving." Yes, that'll solve everything, Sam, including your burning lust for him.
"To hell you are!"
"I'm already there, Jack! For crying out loud, I probably hadn't been on Earth more than a few days and Fifth had me believing I'd never left, minus married to you with a family. Who knows what other lies he's planted in my head. Could be a bomb for all we know! Remember what Nirrti did to Cassandra?"
"I remember because of your love and determination we stopped Nirrti and saved Cassandra. You saved our daughter. Hell, you've saved the planet and me countless times. Now let me save you."
Before she could stop him, Jack reached out and drew her into a vise-like embrace.
"Please don't!" she pleaded as he crushed her against his chest and held on for dear life.
"No! For over two years you've known about this Outpost and didn't give in to Fifth. God only knows what he did to you but he's yet to find us out, Samantha."
"He could already know, erased my memory, just be bidding his time. Remember time means nothing to him." She gazed up at him.
"Then that's a chance I'm willing to take."
Now let's go to bed, Mrs. O'Neill."
"Jack?" she said into his shirt's front, inhaling the essence of him, desiring him more than life. "What's going on between us—physically? Why have I wanted to make love to you since the first time I saw you? Why has it grown stronger every passing day and now with the full moon I—"
"Wanna jump my bones?"
"Well I wasn't going to be that crude, but yes--." She blushed while her pelvis made contact with his right hip. "That's what I'm talking about." She reluctantly pulled away.
"It's a long story. But let's just say the fact you're coming sexually unhinged under a harvest moon is reassuring."
"Then this is natural between us?"
"Oh, yeah." He chuckled and his dimples tucked deep along his rare smile. A breeze rustled the autumn leaves and Jack inhaled then blew out as if exasperated. "Geez, woman, I'm downwind of your scent. If I were a buck, I'd be banging a tree by now." He tugged the hem of his t-shirt but not before Sam noticed the bulge he tried to conceal.
"Well that explains. . . " Why her breasts ached and her nipples were constantly erect, not to mention the wet heat between her legs that'd been none-stop all week.
"I remember being branded as Ancients," She took a tentative step toward him. "So, is this thing between us an Ancient curse?"
"It could be if we weren't able to well, ya know." He coughed and looked away.
"Then it's normal for Ancients?" She thought about what her children had said.
"Yep, we used to make love every day unless one of us was sick or something," he sounded uncomfortable talking this intimate. "And once a month you'd go into heat . . . and we um, well we hardly left the bedroom for a good week."
Sam coughed. "That's not natural."
"For us it is. That Ancient DNA thing ya know."
She couldn't think of anything to say except, "A whole week?"
"Give or take a few days, sometimes longer. Once we start we've got like tunnel vision, nothing else matters. Let's just say rabbits got nothing up on the single-minded procreation of the Ancients."
"So it's not about love and pleasure?"
"Oh, contraire." H moved in and sniffed her hair, inadvertently his erection touched her. Sam struggled the urge to pounce and take him right here, right now. In the back of her steam filled mind, she heard him talking and that he sounded winded.
"Ancient marital bonding has everything to do with satisfying each other's need to join as one . . .to give and receive pleasure. Babies can be an obvious result of that union . . .but the physical bonding actually insures our health and longevity. Something about the exchange of DNA. Actually Daniel can explain it better."
"That's okay I'll pass." Sam thought talking would cool her libido. It did just the opposite. Her need to get naked with her husband was all she could think about. When she looked up she found him no longer smiling.
"Something's wrong?"
Jack cradled her face between his large calloused hands and nodded. "Yes, but nothing time can't fix, Dorothy."
"Dorothy again?" She tipped her head and gazed up at him. "I should remember that. It means more than a Halloween outfit?"
"Yes." He sniffed a breath. "In time."
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, but maybe you're not remembering will be to our advantage." He trailed a hand down the underside of her breasts and extracted a sigh.
"Really?"
"Yep."
"Sam, there's a reason I haven't kissed or touched you until now."
"I'm listening." She tipped her head up to his that was so near now. Man, she wanted him!
"Once we start bonding there's little chance we'll be able to stop even if one of us wants too. It's that genetic cycle thingy. We join not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. And there's zero inhibitions. Anything goes. Sorta reminds me of the Broca virus. Our love making can range from gentle to well, um pretty wild. The Ancients call it Sha'rutt."
"I know."
His brown eyes rounded up. "You do?"
"Yes."
"Well, until our physiological needs are sated, we—"
"Okay." She nodded, surrendering to her raging hormones as she started to tug his t-shirt above his waist. Whatever was happening to her would put a typical teenager to shame.
Jack snagged her hand as it crept beneath his shirt. "You're sure?" she heard the strain in his husky voice and could not imagine how he could have so much self control.
"Yes." She kissed his whiskered jaw.
"It will change everything between us, Sam. I mean everything. I'm burning up with Sha'rutt for you. You drive me crazy!"
"I do?"
"No. Daniel does." He snorted, pressing his manhood against her.
"Funny." Sam giggled, pressing back with mutual need.
"Yes, well my warped sense of humor heightens when I'm horny."
Another giggle shot out of her mouth while her body unconsciously molded to Jack's lean muscular frame. Sam felt dizzy and giddy. She wished he'd kiss her, brand her right here on the front porch under the moon's intoxicating affect.
As if to ensure they were alone Jack glanced both ways then back at her. His lips parted, his brown eyes dilated, He was about to kiss her—she thought, hoped. Please?
"Please what?" he asked in a guttural primal tone. Sam shivered with want and inhaled his intoxicating breath. Pheromones! Strange there wasn't a hint of cigarettes.
"Make love to me, Jack."
"Thought you'd never ask." He smirked and to her surprise dipped her and kissed her with a lustful passion she'd only known in her dreams. When his hot tongue teased her lips for invitation her parted. She moaned as he invaded her tasting, searching and demanding. Sam swore she felt their DNA blend and then merge as one. That's when it happened. She now experienced something that had happened between her and the Ancient Orlin once. An encounter she'd never have agreed to had she known the true intimacy involved. Sam's only solace was that she and Orlin never had physically sex.
In pleasured shock Sam's eyes flew open to find a golden white aura enveloping her and Jack. Another memory unraveled. She'd experienced this pleasurable phenomenon with Jack hundreds of times in the past. She pulled back and stared wide-eyed at him. "Holy buckets!"
"Yeah," he mused grinning. "And that's just the opening act."
"Man, I'm seeing stars!" Weak-kneed she leaned into him and clung tightly.
"Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet, Mrs. O'Neill." He scooped her into his arms, carried her inside, up to their bedroom and closed the door.
In the shadows of the family room Teal'c sat cross-legged on the floor meditating. Donning a smile, the Jaffa muttered, "It is about fricking time, O'Neill."
End of Chapter 12