I strongly encourage you when you like the shippy bits to go out and buy the book!
'She' is always Sam and 'he' is always Jack unless stated otherwise by me.
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp, Double Secret Productions and Showtime.
Novel Sacrifice Moon written by Julie Fortune
*** "Captain?" he asked, never taking his eyes off of the danger. Couldn't be too careful, at moments like these.
Captain Samantha Carter, whose brainiac tendencies he was only beginning to fully appreciate, didn't take the hint to move down the serving line.
*** He kept it light, but he couldn't honestly tell if Sam Carter was one of those stick-up-her-butt officers who disapproved of gambling, along with dancing and drinking and smiling in public. Good to get it out in the open if she was. He could deal with it, but he wanted a little warning.
She looked at him for a few seconds, then said, without a flicker of her blank expression, "Twenty bucks says Daniel will be here in less than two minutes."
"Oh, I don't want to take your money, Captain," He gave her an evil smile. Hers was nearly a match.
"Well, I'd like to take yours. Two minutes." She tapped her watch.
He held up a hand. "Captain Cater, tell me: am I going to care about what you're about to say?"
She looked thrown, but only for a second. He was used to Daniel, who just kept talking. Nice to know his second in command actually listened.
He (Daniel) had an arm full of books. "Am I late?" he asked breathlessly.
Carter should not look that smug.
*** "Good. Let's keep it that way." Jack flicked the memo across the table with a fingernail toward Carter, who fielded it and put it in her own folder. "Captain, as my second in command, you're the keeper of the paperwork. And, next time a little pre-mission briefing, okay?"
"Absolutely, Colonel."
Was that a smile? Nah. Couldn't be.
*** Jack landed flat on his back, staring up at a really bright white sun, and heard Daniel sneeze, hard, two times.
A black shadow occluded the sun, and Carter reached down and hauled him to his feet-
*** Jack held up a hand. "So, no, then. Captain Carter?"
"Sir."
"Stay alert." Like she hadn't been already. She gave him a brief, warm smile.
"Yes sir."
Captain Samantha Carter, whose brainiac tendencies he was only beginning to fully appreciate, didn't take the hint to move down the serving line.
*** He kept it light, but he couldn't honestly tell if Sam Carter was one of those stick-up-her-butt officers who disapproved of gambling, along with dancing and drinking and smiling in public. Good to get it out in the open if she was. He could deal with it, but he wanted a little warning.
She looked at him for a few seconds, then said, without a flicker of her blank expression, "Twenty bucks says Daniel will be here in less than two minutes."
"Oh, I don't want to take your money, Captain," He gave her an evil smile. Hers was nearly a match.
"Well, I'd like to take yours. Two minutes." She tapped her watch.
He held up a hand. "Captain Cater, tell me: am I going to care about what you're about to say?"
She looked thrown, but only for a second. He was used to Daniel, who just kept talking. Nice to know his second in command actually listened.
He (Daniel) had an arm full of books. "Am I late?" he asked breathlessly.
Carter should not look that smug.
*** "Good. Let's keep it that way." Jack flicked the memo across the table with a fingernail toward Carter, who fielded it and put it in her own folder. "Captain, as my second in command, you're the keeper of the paperwork. And, next time a little pre-mission briefing, okay?"
"Absolutely, Colonel."
Was that a smile? Nah. Couldn't be.
*** Jack landed flat on his back, staring up at a really bright white sun, and heard Daniel sneeze, hard, two times.
A black shadow occluded the sun, and Carter reached down and hauled him to his feet-
*** Jack held up a hand. "So, no, then. Captain Carter?"
"Sir."
"Stay alert." Like she hadn't been already. She gave him a brief, warm smile.
"Yes sir."
*** He tried putting his full weight on his ankle and couldn't control a full-body flinch at the immediate wave of protest. The ankle folded.
"Sir?" Carter was immediately at his side. "How bad is it?"
"I'm fine, Carter." He shook off her support-
*** "Never been better. Captain? How are your first aid skills?"
"Depends on if it's sprained, broken or needs amputation, sir." Not that Carter looked to be any prize herself in the health sweepstakes; he kept sweeping her with looks, trying to see where the blood on her face had come from. No visible wounds. She crouched at his side with the kit and manipulated his ankle with ruthless disregard for the sound of protest he made.
*** Jack motioned for Carter to help him up.
*** "Sir?" Carter asked. She hadn't moved, hadn't taken her focus off of Daniel's six. Iron concentration. Jack approved.
*** Carter kept hovering behind him, clearly worried-
"Sir?" Carter was immediately at his side. "How bad is it?"
"I'm fine, Carter." He shook off her support-
*** "Never been better. Captain? How are your first aid skills?"
"Depends on if it's sprained, broken or needs amputation, sir." Not that Carter looked to be any prize herself in the health sweepstakes; he kept sweeping her with looks, trying to see where the blood on her face had come from. No visible wounds. She crouched at his side with the kit and manipulated his ankle with ruthless disregard for the sound of protest he made.
*** Jack motioned for Carter to help him up.
*** "Sir?" Carter asked. She hadn't moved, hadn't taken her focus off of Daniel's six. Iron concentration. Jack approved.
*** Carter kept hovering behind him, clearly worried-
*** "Country Captain Chicken. Apart from the obvious jokes, that just doesn't seem very appetizing," She held it out to Daniel, who shook his head. "I'll save it for the Colonel. He'll probably get a kick out of it..."
She made it half a question. Daniel saw her looking toward O'Neill, but Jack's chin was down on his chest-
*** He (Daniel) shrugged and fiddled with th MRE, pulled the heating tab and waited for the entree to cook. "He respects you. He may not seem like it sometimes, but believe me, Jack's good at reading people. If he let you on the team then he trusts you."
"Nice to know." Her smile was sudden and genuine.
*** Colonel O'Neill was a tall, strong man, and he filled a room, no doubt about it, and when she stood next to him she felt included, as if his strength attached itself to hers and multiplied it.
*** Jack's dream washed over him again, thick and slow, heavy with dread. Disturbing. Kind of like watching those two (Daniel and Sam) so close together, dusty brown head bent close to dusty blonde one, examining the results of Daniel's target practice. Unconsciously in each other's personal space. Well, you wanted to see them bond. Yeah, just not in a predatory wolf-pack kind of way. If that was what it was.
"I hate this place," Jack said, and shoved himself back to his feet. "Yo. Carter. Let me do that."
*** "Who in their right mind doesn't like flying?" Jack asked, with a quirk of his eyebrows.
"Army, Navy, and Marines, sir."
"And there's the reason they're not on my team, Captain. I believe I did qualify it with right mind." She gave him the smile, then. The uncomplicated approval of it eased some of the tension that had accumulated in his guts.
She made it half a question. Daniel saw her looking toward O'Neill, but Jack's chin was down on his chest-
*** He (Daniel) shrugged and fiddled with th MRE, pulled the heating tab and waited for the entree to cook. "He respects you. He may not seem like it sometimes, but believe me, Jack's good at reading people. If he let you on the team then he trusts you."
"Nice to know." Her smile was sudden and genuine.
*** Colonel O'Neill was a tall, strong man, and he filled a room, no doubt about it, and when she stood next to him she felt included, as if his strength attached itself to hers and multiplied it.
*** Jack's dream washed over him again, thick and slow, heavy with dread. Disturbing. Kind of like watching those two (Daniel and Sam) so close together, dusty brown head bent close to dusty blonde one, examining the results of Daniel's target practice. Unconsciously in each other's personal space. Well, you wanted to see them bond. Yeah, just not in a predatory wolf-pack kind of way. If that was what it was.
"I hate this place," Jack said, and shoved himself back to his feet. "Yo. Carter. Let me do that."
*** "Who in their right mind doesn't like flying?" Jack asked, with a quirk of his eyebrows.
"Army, Navy, and Marines, sir."
"And there's the reason they're not on my team, Captain. I believe I did qualify it with right mind." She gave him the smile, then. The uncomplicated approval of it eased some of the tension that had accumulated in his guts.
*** Carter on the other hand...all the sensitivity, none of Jack's hardening. He knew she was tough, or he wouldn't have picked her for the team, but she hadn't been tested the way Daniel had, or Teal'c. It took special hardness to make it through something like this without breaking.
And now she was whimpering in her sleep again, making sounds of real distress.
Jack left his post and shuffled over to her, wincing at the strain in his still-sore ankle, and put a hand on her shoulder and shook gently. "Captain," he whispered. "Captain Carter."
She came awake with a galvanic shudder, straight up, and he saw the shine of sweat on her flushed face. She also came up with her combat knife in her hand. Jack threw himself back instinctively, before his brain even reported the flash of movement, and felt the tip of the knife dig into his tac vest a second before ripping free in a diagonal line.
"Captain!" he barked, and grabbed her arm. He twisted, hard, felt her fighting him but adrenaline and training, not to mention superior upper body strength, won out. She dropped the knife with a metallic klang and spun up to a fighting crouch. "Captain Carter!"
Everybody woke up. Teal'c came to his feet, but didn't abandon his post. It took long sweaty, skin-crawling seconds before the sanity crept into those wide eyes, and finally Carter swallowed hard and whispered, "Colonel?"
"What's left of him," he said in disgust, and looked down at his vest. Another inch, and he'd be picking up his guts with both hands. "Any particular reason you want to field-dress me, Carter?"
She sucked in a deep, shaking breath. "Sorry, sir. I was-"
"Dreaming, yeah, got that." He engaged her eyes and held them. "You okay?"
*** "Turn around, Captain," he said, and made a twirling motion when she didn't respond. She did, unwillingly, and turned her head to try to catch sight of what he was doing. "Nothing personal, Carter." He moved her hair off her neck and looked first at the unbroken skin - no stealth invasion by Goa'uld, at least - and then at the silvery mesh of the collar. It was seamless. He probed at it with his fingers, looking for some kind of catch, then had her turn to face him again.
This close, it was impossible not to feel some discomfort. He compensated by focusing hard on the objective-
*** "Sir!" Carter yelled. He ignored the screaming protest of his ankle and surged to a run, hearing Teal'c boots pounding behind, and slid feet-first into cover next to Carter. He had the MP5 up and searching targets in seconds. He felt a tug at his waist and knew Carter had drawn his handgun, but he was past arguing about that.
*** "Sir," she said, alarmed, and he felt her hands on his back. "Spear. Doesn't look deep, I think the vest stopped it. Hold on." He choked back a groan as she yanked it free and held up a bronzetipped pole with about a quarter inch of red at the tip for his inspection. Her fingers probed the wound with merciless efficiency.
*** He set his teeth and began the limping process. Unexpectedly, he felt an arm under his shoulder, and looked over to see that Carter was taking part of his weight. She avoided looking back at him.
"People will talk," he murmured, and saw her lips quirk, just a little.
And now she was whimpering in her sleep again, making sounds of real distress.
Jack left his post and shuffled over to her, wincing at the strain in his still-sore ankle, and put a hand on her shoulder and shook gently. "Captain," he whispered. "Captain Carter."
She came awake with a galvanic shudder, straight up, and he saw the shine of sweat on her flushed face. She also came up with her combat knife in her hand. Jack threw himself back instinctively, before his brain even reported the flash of movement, and felt the tip of the knife dig into his tac vest a second before ripping free in a diagonal line.
"Captain!" he barked, and grabbed her arm. He twisted, hard, felt her fighting him but adrenaline and training, not to mention superior upper body strength, won out. She dropped the knife with a metallic klang and spun up to a fighting crouch. "Captain Carter!"
Everybody woke up. Teal'c came to his feet, but didn't abandon his post. It took long sweaty, skin-crawling seconds before the sanity crept into those wide eyes, and finally Carter swallowed hard and whispered, "Colonel?"
"What's left of him," he said in disgust, and looked down at his vest. Another inch, and he'd be picking up his guts with both hands. "Any particular reason you want to field-dress me, Carter?"
She sucked in a deep, shaking breath. "Sorry, sir. I was-"
"Dreaming, yeah, got that." He engaged her eyes and held them. "You okay?"
*** "Turn around, Captain," he said, and made a twirling motion when she didn't respond. She did, unwillingly, and turned her head to try to catch sight of what he was doing. "Nothing personal, Carter." He moved her hair off her neck and looked first at the unbroken skin - no stealth invasion by Goa'uld, at least - and then at the silvery mesh of the collar. It was seamless. He probed at it with his fingers, looking for some kind of catch, then had her turn to face him again.
This close, it was impossible not to feel some discomfort. He compensated by focusing hard on the objective-
*** "Sir!" Carter yelled. He ignored the screaming protest of his ankle and surged to a run, hearing Teal'c boots pounding behind, and slid feet-first into cover next to Carter. He had the MP5 up and searching targets in seconds. He felt a tug at his waist and knew Carter had drawn his handgun, but he was past arguing about that.
*** "Sir," she said, alarmed, and he felt her hands on his back. "Spear. Doesn't look deep, I think the vest stopped it. Hold on." He choked back a groan as she yanked it free and held up a bronzetipped pole with about a quarter inch of red at the tip for his inspection. Her fingers probed the wound with merciless efficiency.
*** He set his teeth and began the limping process. Unexpectedly, he felt an arm under his shoulder, and looked over to see that Carter was taking part of his weight. She avoided looking back at him.
"People will talk," he murmured, and saw her lips quirk, just a little.
*** He could see his death coming. He had to see it coming. Now he would run, and the hunt would begin... He didn't run "Carter," he said raggedly. "Put it down. Don't do this."
She understood him, and felt her muscles trembling with a desire to obey.
She saw someone lunge at his unprotected back. A knife glinted. She instantly shifted aim and fired a rattling burst. O'Neill dropped, rolled, and came up with his own weapon pointed at her.
She couldn't get her breath. She wanted to keep firing, turn her commanding officer into bleeding dead meat, and it took everything in her to toss the MP5 down on the street and sink to her knees, hand locked behind her head in a position of utter surrender. Run, the moonlight urged her. The burning in her turned toxic. Run! The hunt is leaving you behind!
"Can't." She was shaking all over with the pain, the need, the burn. "Help."
He came, limping, and painfully went down on his good knee. "How?"
"Tie me-"
"Need to be able to move. We're not safe, Carter."
"Can't-"
"You will." His eyes held hers, merciless and utterly cold. "You will. That's an order."
She wailed inside, wordlessly. The moonlight burned like acid, and her shudders got worse. She felt a small, tortured moan work its way free, and felt her eyes flood again with helpless, raging tears.
Help me.
He was helping her. He wasn't running.
*** "Come," she said, and offered him a hand. He looked at it, then up at her face, and grabbed hold.
They moved pretty fast, with Carter's arm under his shoulders and his draped around her neck; awkward, but effective.
"Rest," he finally said, panting, and Carter stopped to let him slide down to a sitting position on some cracked stone steps.
Carter grabbed him and hauled him back to his feet. "Ah. Right. Moving on," he choked, and felt the world start to unravel at the edges when his weight came down wrong. Carter, either oblivious or not bothered by his moaning, dragged him forward.
*** She looked around, dazed, and blinked at them. "Where-" And then she knew; he saw everything kick in. Fast, his Carter. She climbed out of the sarcophagus, steadied herself, and flashed him an unsteady smile.
"Nice to see you, Captain," he said, straight-faced when all he wanted to do was grin and whoop.
She understood him, and felt her muscles trembling with a desire to obey.
She saw someone lunge at his unprotected back. A knife glinted. She instantly shifted aim and fired a rattling burst. O'Neill dropped, rolled, and came up with his own weapon pointed at her.
She couldn't get her breath. She wanted to keep firing, turn her commanding officer into bleeding dead meat, and it took everything in her to toss the MP5 down on the street and sink to her knees, hand locked behind her head in a position of utter surrender. Run, the moonlight urged her. The burning in her turned toxic. Run! The hunt is leaving you behind!
"Can't." She was shaking all over with the pain, the need, the burn. "Help."
He came, limping, and painfully went down on his good knee. "How?"
"Tie me-"
"Need to be able to move. We're not safe, Carter."
"Can't-"
"You will." His eyes held hers, merciless and utterly cold. "You will. That's an order."
She wailed inside, wordlessly. The moonlight burned like acid, and her shudders got worse. She felt a small, tortured moan work its way free, and felt her eyes flood again with helpless, raging tears.
Help me.
He was helping her. He wasn't running.
*** "Come," she said, and offered him a hand. He looked at it, then up at her face, and grabbed hold.
They moved pretty fast, with Carter's arm under his shoulders and his draped around her neck; awkward, but effective.
"Rest," he finally said, panting, and Carter stopped to let him slide down to a sitting position on some cracked stone steps.
Carter grabbed him and hauled him back to his feet. "Ah. Right. Moving on," he choked, and felt the world start to unravel at the edges when his weight came down wrong. Carter, either oblivious or not bothered by his moaning, dragged him forward.
*** She looked around, dazed, and blinked at them. "Where-" And then she knew; he saw everything kick in. Fast, his Carter. She climbed out of the sarcophagus, steadied herself, and flashed him an unsteady smile.
"Nice to see you, Captain," he said, straight-faced when all he wanted to do was grin and whoop.
*** Jack scrambled over to where Carter was rolling over to her hands and knees, dazed and bleeding, and helped her up. She wiped her cut lip and grinned. "Off switch," she said, "Made one. C-4."
*** He handed her an MRE. "Country Captain Chicken," he said. "Your favorite."
She managed a wan smile, ate about three mouthfuls and yawned.
*** He handed her an MRE. "Country Captain Chicken," he said. "Your favorite."
She managed a wan smile, ate about three mouthfuls and yawned.
*shippy sigh*
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