A/N's: so sorry for pulling that stunt last Friday, leaving you guys hanging... (not, lol). Thanks for the yelling and the upgrade from queen of cliffhangers to emperess... didn't even know that was a valid word.

so... let's get back to Janet and see what happens... Good thing I got an M-rating on this story... And I'll make this chapter a bit longer than the last. Happy?

"No..." Janet stumbled, watching with fear as the dark-haired man in front of her drew closer. He sat on one knee while undressing her with his eyes. Bending forward he stretched out his hand.

Janet pulled back, inhaling sharply. "No," she mumbled again. "Leave me alone..."

Anger suddenly replaced the smile and the man waved his knife threateningly in front of Fraiser's face.

She trembled uncontrollably as her breathing increased while her heart tried to skip a couple of beats.

Again he reached out. His fingers touched her face, following the lines of her profile, scrolling from her forehead, over her temples, across her cheekbones and finally coming to rest under her chin. He sniffed, enjoying the natural scent of her body and then moved his hand to his mouth, slowly licking his fingers.

His hand came back, this time caressing the soft skin of her neck, and, making a game out of it, his fingers moved, over her shoulder, down until they reached what he couldn't keep his eyes off. His thumb increased pressure as he probed the soft tissue of her breast, her frightened gasps only adding to his pleasure. Without paying attention to her rejection, the weak shaking of her head and her soft whispers asking him, pleading him, to stop he bent forward to press his body over hers.

She drew her knee up, hitting him hard between the legs, frantically started slapping him in the face. "Get off me," she hissed angrily, having regained some control over her trembling body. Temporarily stunning him with her unexpected resistance, she stuck out with her fists, aiming for his eyes.

He was stronger though. He lifted one hand up and slapped her hard on the cheek, sending her head backwards, colliding against the rocks. His hand rose again and this time he used the back of his hand, slapping her other cheek.

Janet moaned, dizzy from the impact and felt her cheeks burn while her head pounded unmercifully. Gasping for breath she watched as the now furious man brought the knife forward, pressing the blade against her throat.

She was paralyzed.

His eyes were spitting fire, outraged as he was. Holding the knife in place, he pressed the woman down with his other arm. "Do not move," he snapped in her ear.

Pinned down, terrified with fear, Janet weakly kicked with her feet. When she smelled his breath, feeling his tongue licking her ear, having no room to draw her head away from him, she sobbed in silence. "No..."

He continued to let his tongue run over her face, his movements increasing, and pressing her down with his upper body, he now drew one knee up and used it to force her legs apart while his free hand started fumbling with her clothes.

Janet struggled weakly but the man left her no room to move. Tears welled up in her eyes and started rolling down her cheeks.

He licked them up, groaning with pleasure.

She stammered. "No. Please, no..."

She hadn't heard him approach but caught the movement from the corner of her eyes. The slightest shimmer of hope now visible in her eyes drew her attacker's attention and he moved, just as another arm slid around his neck.

The sudden change in position made it impossible for O'Neill to take his opponent out with one move as planned but he still managed to jerk the attacker backwards and off Janet.

The Tyberian man's eyes opened widely, shocked by the interruption.

Janet felt the fading pressure, the knife leaving her throat and took advantage of the situation, immediately crawling sideways, out of her attacker's reach.

Colonel O'Neill, still weak from his injuries, lost his balance but was determined to get this man away from Janet Fraiser. "The lady said no, you bastard," he snapped angrily.

The man fought back now, and two bodies rolled over and over, leaving Janet to gasp in shock at the fight.

O'Neill was at a disadvantage with having only one functional arm, but he still managed to block the other man's blows. While attempting to sit up, he also landed his fist hard on his opponent's chin before falling back, gulping in air as the man kicked him full on the abdomen.

The Tyberian guard jumped to his feet, his knife ready as he approached the American still recovering on the ground.

O'Neill forced one leg up, kicking hard against the man's wrist and the knife fell out of the now damaged hand. The guard threw himself onto O'Neill, who was now struggling to get up, directing his blows to the other man's already
damaged arms; apparently aware of his opponent's weak spots. He managed to lift his knee, landing it hard against Jack's immobilized arm, the force of the impact sending the Colonel back to the ground. Before O'Neill had the chance to recover, a large boot landed solidly and heavily against his legs. The Colonel groaned out loud, hitting his opponent hard in the knees in the meantime with his free arm by swinging it forward.

The man fell; reached out to grab the knife and swept it in O'Neill's direction. The Colonel had managed to sit up and ended up blocking the approaching knife with his right arm, the blade slicing his skin, leaving a bleeding gash.

Jack staggered as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him. He glanced at the other man through half-opened eyes, anticipating the guard's next move and how to respond. The man jumped up and lifted the knife once more, certain of his victory. Jack was ready to react and, leaning backwards on his right elbow, he brought his left leg into position to take his opponent down with one well-aimed kick.

A dull sound echoed and the man's eyes flew wide open in shock. He stopped in the midst of his movement, and then clutched his chest before his knees buckled. He slid into a motionless heap on the ground.

O'Neill pushed himself back to a sitting position, stunned, taking in the still form in front of him, only now recognizing the man. It was one of the guards who had struck him repeatedly when he was captured.

He looked up.

Janet Fraiser stood, her legs slightly spread, both arms still outstretched, the gun locked in her hands. Her eyes didn't move; she just stood there, frozen, shocked and momentarily unaware of her surroundings.

Jack somehow managed to get onto his feet, bent forward to check on their attacker, relieved but not surprised to find him dead. Janet had shot him straight through the heart. He now limped forward to the doctor and slowly pushed her arms and the gun down, sliding the safety on. "It's okay, Doc. It's okay," he soothed.

Her eyes suddenly turned to him. "I killed him..." she stammered.

"It's okay... If you hadn't, I would have," he softly said and caught her as she buried herself against his chest, trembling uncontrollably.

He gently stroked her hair, taking in the swelling of her cheeks and winced in sympathy. "Sshhh. He's not going to hurt you anymore."

Janet shook her head briefly, pushed herself out of his safe embrace and went straight back into doctor mode. "You're bleeding," she stated, taking hold of his right hand to look at the damage on his arm. She looked up to face him and saw the tightened lips and the grim expression as he stared at the dead body. "You knew him?"

"We've met," Jack answered shortly and scanned the area. "Where are the others?" he demanded. He wasn't about to give in to his exhaustion and pain before he knew their status.

Janet didn't listen but busied herself instead with visually examining her patient while wiping the blood off his arm.

"Janet," he urged, pulling his arm back. "Where are the others? I need to know..."

His eyes met hers and she was taken back by the deadly serious expression she found there.

"We ran into a situation. Bayfield took Sam to clear the area and left us here. I think Daniel was captured. Teal'c was over there," she rambled, pointing into the right direction.

Jack bent to pick up her gun. "A silencer. Nice. At least nobody heard it. That could be to our advantage, but we need to move."

"I need to dress that arm and check you over," she protested, having taken in the way he limped and how he pressed his free arm protectively around his chest.

"Doc, now's not the time. I need to see what has happened to the others and help them. That is my job. When we're safe, you'll have plenty of time to do yours," he ordered sharply. He hadn't meant to scare her, but needed her fully alert and aware of the danger they were still in.

She seemed to have understood as she quickly wrapped some gauze around his arm to stop the bleeding and then lifted her pack, fastening it on her back. "Let's go," she said, her voice steady. She followed him as he led the way, but stopped momentarily to look back over her shoulder at the dead man on the ground.

O'Neill grabbed her firmly by the chin and stopped her while locking his dark brown eyes on hers. "Never look back at the inevitable, Janet," he said, his voice rough. "Concentrate on the task at hand."

She nodded, understanding that he was trying to help her cope, in his own, brisk but unique way.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked. His voice was tenderer now as he studied her thoroughly, a concerned frown etched on his face.

"Yes, Sir, " she said firmly and followed him.

Colonel O'Neill took point, motioning for Doctor Fraiser to stay close behind him. He surveyed his surroundings, fanning out to the west to search the area thoroughly. Soon they approached the spot where Teal'c and Daniel were held captive by three guards. O'Neill spotted them through his binoculars; lying on his right side since flat on his stomach was no longer an option with his immobilized left arm strapped across his chest.

He crawled back to where Janet was waiting, his face grim after recognizing one of the guards. He softly explained the situation to her. "There are three guards." O'Neill took a small branch and drew a crude map in a sandy spot on the ground. "Here, here and here." He marked them with an 'X' and then looked up at her with a deadly expression over his face. "Are you in for some serious shooting, Doc?"

She shivered involuntarily, but nodded firmly. "Yes, Sir. What's the plan?"

"You're the only one with a silencer. I'll use my knife. I don't want to attract the attention of the guards on the other side of the ravine," he looked into that direction before turning his attention back to the ground. "I want you to stay close behind me. We'll make our way in through here." He indicated the point on the map. ""I think I can reach the first guard without being noticed while you wait there," he showed her the spot.

"I'll take him out. Your job will be the second guard," he tapped on the marks. "Remember, shoot to take him out. After taking that guard down, I want you to get over to Teal'c and cut him loose as fast as you can. Got that?"

"What about you, Sir?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be working on the third guard and will see to Daniel. You just make sure to get to Teal'c."

Colonel Bayfield was lying flat on his stomach with his hands bound tightly on his back. His head was pounding from the blows he'd received during their capture. He glared to his left through half-opened eyes.

Major Carter was lying next to him, in a similar position, her hands also bound on her back.

She stared back at him, her face blank, although he thought he could see the disappointment in her eyes.

Now what?

There were four men holding them, they were captured and incapacitated and there was no way of knowing what had become of the others.

Bayfield calculated that the men would eventually lead them back through the ravine. It made sense, since Camp Ockeloen was located in that direction. The only reason why they weren't on their way just yet most likely would be that the Tyberian guards weren't sure their colleagues had everything under control on the other side. It was only a matter of time until they found out one way or the other.

As long as that was the case, there was hope, he thought idly. He just had to be ready to respond to any situation, taking advantage of the moment when it was there.

Bayfield shifted slowly. There was a small piece of rock digging into his hip underneath him and he intended to get it in his hands, without drawing the attention of his captors.

When he was certain that nobody noticed he moved, inch by tiny inch. He had to roll to his side, which was barely possible without being spotted. Every time he shifted too much, one of the guards looked up; watching him closely and he had to stop from moving.

This wasn't getting him anywhere.

He needed some sort of distraction. His eyes darted from the left to the right, searching, even as his mind was racing. Involuntarily he sighed deeply, and inadvertently sucked in air and dust as his chin was still resting on the ground. The dust and tiny little grains of sand itched under his nostrils and it irritated the hell out of him as he was unable to wipe it away. Bayfield moved his tongue, ready to lick the tickling dust from his upper lip, and then suddenly stopped.

Cautiously Bayfield started sniffing; slowly drawing in more air filled with dust until he felt the itching sensation of an upcoming sneezing fit growing. He snuffled some more, closing his eyes in an attempt to control the almost uncontrollable reaction of his body to get rid of the dirt that had nestled itself inside his nose.

"Atchoe!" Unable to stop it Bayfield gave in, rolling to his side, drawing his knees to his chest as he sneezed and sneezed.

Two guards jumped up; one pressed a gun against the prisoner's temple. Bayfield's body jerked for the third time as he sneezed again and then the burning sensation in his nose eased. He let out a deep sigh.

One foot pushed him roughly in his back and rolled him over until he was lying on his stomach once more.

The guards, satisfied that all was well, returned to their original positions.

Bayfield closed his eyes and fought to get his breathing back under control while he slowly, very slowly, moved the thumb and pointing finger of his right hand. There, he held the piece of rock he'd managed to grab with his little distraction and now he patiently and secretly started working on the knots

A/N's... and things are starting to look a little better. Don't they?