Title: Dichotomy pt8

Rating: FR-M (mild sexual situations & violence)

Spoilers: Abyss, Ex Deus Machina

Summary: Part 8: It was only a matter of time before they realised she was missing.

Author Notes: Sam/Baal pairing. I took the premise of Ba'al being on Earth from Ex Deus Machina and my muse is responsible for the rest. You've been forewarned about the pairing, too, so don't shout at me! (Hides under bed.) ALSO: Although my inspiration was from the Season 9 ep "Ex Deus Machina", the story is not set in Season 9, so I still have Gen. Hammond, Jack and Sam as 'major' and not 'lieutenant colonel.' Just to clear things up.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Dedication: For Sarah, always. Dichotomy pt8

Copyright (c) August 2006, Ruth

O

She was tied to the headboard.

Breathing hard, she levelled one of her trademark glares at him as he moved up her body; keeping the small dagger that he held in his right hand well within her view.

"Kinky," she said quietly, "Although I'm not surprised."

"Silence," he snarled, with a dangerous edge to his voice as he raised the dagger from his side.

Sam closed her eyes and willed herself to be calm as she felt the point of the dagger nip the skin of her throat.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked shakily, opening her eyes once more to meet his; only to find the dark, impenetrable abyss which resided in them.

"Because I can," he smirked, before plunging the dagger home, delighting in the sound of her scream.

Jack awoke with a start, sitting straight up in his bed and trying to quell the unnatural shaking of his limbs.

What the hell was all that about?

He looked over at the alarm clock to his left; it read 3:05.

A nightmare. That was all. Nothing to worry about.

Then why was he so stirred up?

It wasn't as if he'd never had nightmares before; hell, his encounter with Baal had pretty much screwed up his chances of ever having a perfect night's sleep. It wasn't exactly the first time that the Goa'uld had haunted him in his sleep - but it was the first time that Sam had been involved.

After his capture, his feelings towards Sam had been more confused than ever. True, several years had passed since the event itself, but he was always haunted by her face, looking down at him through that orange suit. Persuading him to do something against his nature, against his rules. Just so that he wouldn't die.

How ironic.

Some nights he held her totally to blame for what had happened to him; had she not persuaded him to accept the blending, he would never have gone with the Tok'ra, never ended up on that planet - and in Ba'al's clutches. Feelings of anger, deep and dark burned within him, usually quelled with alcohol and a long session in the gym. He was unable to reconcile this rage with the way he had felt for her; every time she smiled a part of him ached for some form of vengeance, for some repayment for the agony her actions had caused him.

Other nights, he recognised that she wasn't at fault. Without her, he would have died, forever and always, six feet under, pushing up the daisies, yada-yada. There was no way she could have known what would happen when he left with the Tok'ra that day, the day that would forever change him and the way he treated her.

His nightmare had brought all of the pain, the anxiety, the anger, flooding back to him in a mad rush that he had no control over. Why Sam? He usually had nightmares about Ba'al, but he had never connected Sam with them before. It confused, and even frightened a part of him.

Still, this was all in the past.

Wasn't it?

O

General Hammond looked grim when the members of SG-1 were seated in front of him.

All that is, except one.

"Gentlemen, by now you must have realised that I have only called you in for a very good reason."

"General, where's Sam?" Daniel asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer. The three men exchanged worried looks.

"On Tuesday we received this video footage from O'Malley's, of all places," Hammond replied, starting the recording.

The camera focused on a young, attractive woman in a skirt and a red top. She looked decidedly nervous and even jumped when the bartender placed a drink beside her.

"Hey, that's…"

"Sam," Jack finished.

The bartender said something to her which caused her to look up, at which point her hand seemed to clench into a fist at her side. She jumped up suddenly in her seat, but the camera wasn't angled correctly to see what, or rather whom, had caught her attention. In one movement she was on her feet and moving towards the door. At this point, the camera angle changed and caught on a tall man who had also risen from his seat. Wearing a long, dark coat and speaking into what appeared to be a mobile phone; he broke into a run and disappeared from the bar.

The footage stopped.

"I don't understand," Daniel began, "I mean, that was Sam, but…"

"Let me slow the footage down," Hammond said grimly, re-winding the tape until there was a shot of the man. At a slower speed this time, SG-1 was able to see clearly how he turned to the camera and smirked. When Hammond paused the recording, there was a stunned silence from the occupants of the room, broken only by Jack.

"Tell me that isn't who I think it is."

"I'm afraid so, gentlemen. After we received this, we attempted to contact Major Carter. She is not answering her home or cell-phone. We sent people to her house; they found seven days' worth of unopened mail. She hasn't been there for upwards of a week."

"But what would Ba'al want with Carter?"

O

She forced herself to pull away from him, attempting to rein her frenzied emotions in, once and for all.

What would Jack, Daniel and Teal'c think of her? Her family and friends? They would think her nothing but a whore, and a betrayer at that; this was her enemy, her people's enemy; what was she thinking even entertaining the idea of…

A deep blush rose in her cheeks and she turned away from him, embarrassed and torn.

"What is wrong?" he asked, and she did not miss the faint signs of irritation which had begun to seep into his tone.

"I…" she faltered, "I can't."

"You did not seem to have a problem a few moments ago," he snapped, pulling her back into his arms and kissing her deeply, as if to reinforce his point.

"I'm not saying I don't want to," she continued, trying to pull herself out of his grasp but failing miserably. "I can't - what would they think?"

"To hell with them!" he said impatiently, "This is your life, your decision! You were only telling me how you never get what you want - and you wonder why? If you let other people make decisions for you, or if you involve others where they are not needed, it is small wonder that you never do anything for yourself!"

"And what happens when you get bored with me?" Sam asked, narrowing her eyes, "I mean, IF I was to ignore them. Sure, you'll love me for how long...a month? If you can even call it love. How long before you move onto the next whore?" she demanded.

He released her from his grasp, pushing her as far away from him as possible but still keeping eye contact.

"Do not presume to tell me how I feel, Samantha. I have not done so with you; I would appreciate the same courtesy."

With that, he was gone, though his scent remained on her clothes, the taste of him in her mouth.

O

Jack stood at the door of Sam's house, the keys feeling heavier in his hand; as if the absence of their owner had somehow been absorbed. He still wasn't sure what he was doing here; there was no need, after all, to confirm that she was gone. She'd not appeared at the SGC, she'd not been seen for over a week. However, it still felt unreal to him. Like a terrible dream.

His thoughts returned to the dream he had had early that morning and a shudder went through him. What would Ba'al want with Carter? It wasn't as if he had personal issues with her, like he did with himself…

At least, not that he was aware of.

O

Sam slammed her fist into the wall, the tears beginning to fall as pain shot up her arm. Frustrated, she cried out, sliding down the wall and cradling her injured hand to her body.

Oh Sam, she thought miserably, what have you done?

O

To Be Continued…

O

Author's Note: Nothing much to add really. Just a plea; if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment. Many thanks to those who have reviewed before, I really appreciate it. See you next chapter.