I Never Wanted This To Happen

Sam Carter was writing a note on the margin of a naquada reactor blueprint when she felt a hand on her back. She looked up to see Janet Fraiser grinning down at her.

The doctor leaned down to ear-level. "Girls' night out?"

Sam flipped through her mental date book--Tonight: Empty. The rest of her life: Empty. "Sure, I'm game." She answered. "Tonight?"

"Absolutely." Janet paused, a wicked expression creeping into her face. "I'll femme it up if you will."

"Janet!" Sam attempted to look mortified. "What if someone from the base sees us?"

"Don't worry, they wouldn't recognize us."

They were used to making plans on short notice, and having them cancelled even faster. Hurry up and wait wasn't just a motto, it was a lifestyle.

The Fates were kind that day, and 1900 hours found Sam knocking on the Fraisers' front door. She'd worn a turquoise blue skirt that she hoped added depth to the ice blue of her eyes, and added an open-necked white blouse. She wasn't sure of Janet's plans, so she'd dressed as neutrally as possible. They might end up square dancing--Sam's feet still hurt from that--or shooting pool, or wine tasting.

The pair grabbed a night every other month when they could. Sam suspected it was to stave off the loneliness for both of them. Being female field grade officers put them into a social minority on base, and they were both workaholics. Janet, at least, had Cassandra at home, but Sam suspected the kid wasn't that entertaining.

The dress code, too, was part of the fun. When else would they have the opportunity? Sometimes, just sometimes, it was nice to be a woman instead of one of the guys.

The door swung open and revealed Janet, wearing a well-cut black pantsuit, with her soccer-mom purse slung over her shoulder. She smiled warmly up at Sam. "Ready?"

"For anything," Sam replied, pivoting on the stoop and offering Janet her arm.

Janet took it, and they sauntered into the evening.

They ended up at the movies. Since Janet hated drama and screwball comedies because they reminded her too much of how she naively ended up with her ex-husband, and Sam hated action films because they were implausible, and they both found science fiction too ironic, they went to a foreign film.

Janet was delighted at the chance to use her high school French, but Sam was not as impressed.

"Amelie still seeks solitude. She amuses herself with silly questions about the world below, such as 'How many people are having an orgasm right now?'"
"Fifteen."

Sam leaned over and whispered, "They're crazy!" Her breath tickled Janet's ear. A few minutes later, she was fast asleep, her head lolling against her companion's shoulder. Janet contentedly tossed another kernel of popcorn into her mouth. At least Sam didn't snore.

After the movie, they ended up at the bar of the local Outback, winking at barflies and teasing each other into trying different drinks. "Janet, I was thinking," Sam stuttered into the straw of her screwdriver. "Maybe we should go out more frequently."

Janet giggled, peering at Sam through a shot glass. "What?"

"Well, it's just that we're getting older, and we're already practically a family, and--"

Two beepers went off simultaneously.

Sam blinked. "Base?"

Janet dug a squealing black box from her purse and squinted at the readout. "Base."

Sam tossed some bills on the bar and they left.

* * *

Three days later, SG1, minus Daniel Jackson who was on another mission, emerged from the Stargate and stomped their muddy boots on the ramp. "Why are we being recalled from the bog early?" Jack groused. "I was finally getting used to the smell."

Hammond and Dr. Warner were waiting at the bottom of the ramp. Dr. Warner stepped forward to peer at a bruise on Sam's forehead as she approached. "How'd that happen?" He inquired.

"Get away from me," she growled, squinting at his presence suspiciously. "Where's Janet?"

Hammond cleared his throat. "That's why you've been recalled. Doctor Fraiser hasn't reported in for duty today."

"What?"

"We've contacted her home several times and had the police do an external visual check. No response. I want you three over there immediately." Hammond paused, wrinkling his nose. "Well, maybe after you shower."

But Sam was already pushing her way to the door, and Jack and Teal'c scrambled to keep up with her.

* * *

When the Jeep pulled to a stop, Sam darted out the door and started running toward the house.

"Carter!" Jack called after her. "Preserve the--" he stopped mid-sentence, and unbuckled his seat belt.

"Preserve the what?" Teal'c asked.

O'Neill solemnly got out of the car. "I was going to say, preserve the crime scene."

Inside the house, Sam was calling Janet's name, as she kept her gun drawn and cleared rooms. She was heading upstairs when the rest of SG1 entered the domicile.

"Downstairs all clear," she reported, and bounded up to the second level. After clearing Cassandra's room, she moved toward the master bedroom. "Janet!"

Sam heard a sound. She lifted her hand to silence the men behind her, then crept forward, her gun raised. The sound again. A moan. "Janet?" She called softly, checking the bedroom. She signaled that the bedroom was clear by hand to Jack, and then moved toward the master bathroom.

When she entered, she found Janet on her back on the floor, bruised and bloodied, the right side of her face swollen so that her eye was squeezed shut. Sam knelt beside the doctor, checking for a pulse. She found it beating strong underneath her fingers, and closed her eyes, overwhelmed with the release from fear.

Then her attention was caught by another low moan, and Sam opened her eyes, to find Janet squinting back at her.

"What happened?"

The injured woman tried to talk, gasped, choked. Through the thinly parted lips, Sam saw Janet's mouth was filled with blood. The black eyes, generally expressive, were clouded with fear.

"Sssh, don't talk," Sam whispered, cupping Janet's cheek, wiping away a trickle of red with her thumb.

Janet's eyes flashed, and she coughed again, as if saying, ~You _just_ asked me to speak, nitwit.~

Sam nearly wept at the spirit in Janet's annoyed expression.

"Ambulance is on its way," Jack said from behind them.

Janet shook her head violently and struggled to sit up. Sam moved to brace her. "Base," Janet croaked.

Jack grinned. "Give me a little credit, Doc. That's where you're headed." He paused. "Though why you'd want Doctor Warner's hands all over you..." He shuddered.

Supporting Janet's shoulders, Sam glanced around. "Where's Teal'c?"

"Guarding the front door."

Sam felt Janet sag against her, and smiled faintly, knowing Janet's relief came at the thought of the large warrior between her and the world.

"Men att--" Janet began, and choked again. Sam's grip on her tightened. The blond ran her hands up and down Janet's arms, offering what tenderness she could manage through her fear and rage.

"Men," Janet began again, as she reached for Sam's hand, clutching it tightly. "Black clothes. Not--suits." She exhaled, spraying droplets of blood. "They were after Cassie," Janet shook in Sam's arms. "But I didn't tell them," she gasped. "I'd never give up Stargate."

Jack was watching the smaller woman intently, and Sam could see his mind already choosing a course of action. "Do you remember anything else?" He asked quietly.

Janet inhaled. She lifted her hand, showing bloody fingertips. "I got a piece of them."

Sam and Jack smiled. "Good girl."

Then Janet shuddered, her eyes flicking to the right, remembering the trauma. "They left me alive," she whimpered, clinging harder to the hand she was holding. "They left me alive so they could use me to find Cassandra."

Jack cleared his throat, and went outside to find Teal'c and wait for the transport, allowing Janet's sudden sobs their privacy.

Janet held onto the larger woman, burying her face in Sam's shoulder. Her tears and blood marked Sam's clothing. Her shock kept the pain of bruise and cracked bones at bay so she allowed Sam to envelop her. She didn't feel safe, but she began to feel that she could feel safe, someday. Janet clung to Sam, clung to life.

As Janet buried her face in Sam's shoulder, she suddenly coughed, pulled back, and retched. She expelled blood mixed with vomit, and Sam's eyes went wide. She reached for Janet, patting her down, feeling for swelling that might indicate internal injuries.

"It's not--" Janet gasped, and Sam stopped, peering at her.

"Not injuries. Odor." Janet turned away from Sam and heaved again. "Sam," she managed. "You reek.

* * *

Cassandra had perfected the necessary teenage slouch for holding a battery-operated lantern: Minimum expenditure of energy, maximum expression of negative emotion. If Carter could crack the code for that exothermic reaction, she'd be a very wealthy woman. "This is so boring." Cassandra used a tone that expressed both immense pain and immense apathy. Like she'd die of the suffering, if only she could be bothered to care.

"Hey, you wanted to come," Daniel said, equally as petulantly, not looking up. "Move to the right." The light moved. He began to study the markings on the illuminated rock face.

"Yeah," Cassandra replied bitterly. "Get off-world, see some sights, have some adventures." She shook her head. "Not look at rock art."

Daniel chuckled, and rolled back on his heels. He glanced at his young charge. "On the other side of this mountain, there's an oasis. Fruit you can eat right off the trees, water so pure you can see straight to the bottom. Why don't you see if you've got what it takes to climb over?"

"You're going to let me go rock climbing?" Cassandra practically squeaked.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Go have fun. Take a walkie-talkie with you." Cassandra grabbed a radio and scrambled out of the cave.

Daniel wondered dimly if he had just made a mistake. His parents had died when he was young, and he'd done all right on his own, traipsing around ruins. Cassandra's parents had died, too. She'd be fine.

He had a feeling Janet was going to kill him no matter what. He exhaled, and went back to work.

The radio chirped, interrupting his musings about whether the cave-painters had been monotheistic or polytheistic. Had Cassandra injured herself already? He grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Daniel here."

"Doctor Jackson," Hammond's voice came over the radio. "I'm afraid we have a problem. Is Cassandra Fraiser with you?"

Daniel glanced around the empty cave furtively. "She's...fine, sir."

That seemed to be enough to satisfy Hammond, as he went on. "Seems someone has made an attempt on Doctor Fraiser's life."

Daniel nearly dropped the radio. "What? Is she--"

"Recovering," Hammond said gruffly. "Apparently, they were after Cassandra. We don't think the culprits know she's off-world, but we don't want to take any chances. After this communique, we'll scramble the gate coordinates, and won't contact you again until we have the all-clear."

Daniel paled. "Understood."

"Take care, Doctor Jackson. We're sending through food and water." The transmission cut.

Daniel took a deep breath. Then another. Then he screamed. "Cassie!"

* * *

Sam sat at the conference table in the briefing room with Dr. Warner, Jack, Teal'c, and General Hammond.

Copies of the forensic evidence gathered from Janet's body was in front of each of them. Dr. Warner also had Janet Fraiser's medical file, and photographs of the injuries.

"Three fractures of the ribs, one compressing her lung cavity that required surgery; One sprained wrist; Three teeth knocked out; Severe concussion; Bruising to the kidneys that may or may not lead to permanent damage." Warner indicated a photograph that showed long dark bruises on Janet's throat. Like fingers. "She was choked. Possibly as an interrogation method."

Sam closed her eyes.

Jack reached for the photograph. "No taser marks?"

"No."

"No burns?"

"Nope." Warner lifted a hand. "And before you ask, no scalpel, scissor, or clamp marks, either. And all her fingers are intact."

"They probably expected to find Cassie there, and take her," O'Neill concluded.

"How do you figure, Colonel?" Hammond asked.

"Well, they weren't prepared for torture, sir. They forgot their kit. Sloppy."

Sam wanted to say something, perhaps point out that they were talking about a human being, and perhaps condemn all of this as sick and perverse, point out that Janet was her friend. But she bit her lip. She knew they were learning from this conversation.

"Not NID, then?" Hammond asked.

"No, I don't think they're this clumsy."

Hammond nodded. "Then maybe we can run some of Dr. Warner's evidence through their databases."

"You mean those illegal terrorist-tracking databases that tromp all over civil rights, sir?" Jack quipped.

Hammond just looked at him.

"Right, those." Jack nodded.

"Sir," Carter finally managed, turning to Jack. "Do you have any idea who might have done this?"

"Conspiracy group?" Jack furrowed his brow. "Roswell nutcase? One of Cassie's little playmates at school?" He shook his head. "No idea."

"All right," Hammond said, placing his hands on the table. "O'Neill, Teal'c, you go back to Doctor Fraiser's house. See if you can pick up any more clues. Major Carter, contact the NID. Dismissed, folks."

* * *

Standing just outside the infirmary, Sam struggled with her emotions. She had feelings for Janet, she always had. They'd been simmering for years, pushed aside because she could die at any moment, that was the expectation being on SG1, and it wouldn't be fair to screw up her best friend's life like that. Either Sam'd find the courage to act on their chemistry, or she'd die--either way, she had all the time in the world. Janet wasn't going anywhere.

Now, she had experienced the burning pain of losing Janet. She'd never considered that the doctor, the stable one, would go first, and now all the unspoken things, the little regrets, were all Sam could think about.

She loved Janet, and Janet deserved to know before she died.

Sam ran her hands through her short hair and exhaled forcefully. There was still that little matter of courage. She inhaled, and stepped through the door. Janet was lying on a hospital bed in one of the isolation wards. She looked so small. When she realized Sam was there, she forced herself to smile and cleared her throat, but the tears were still in her eyes. "I feel so helpless," she said as Sam approached. "I'm a doctor, I shouldn't feel this way." Janet looked sternly at her. "You're the one who's supposed to feel this way."

She paused, spotting the discoloration on Sam's face. "Has anyone looked at that bruise on your forehead yet?" Janet, seeing a patient in front of her, was suddenly struck with the magnitude of her own inability to assist.

Sam caught the tenseness in Janet's expression. "Dr. Warner said I was _fine_." She took Janet's hand. "I'll take care of you."

"You'd better, flyboy." Janet returned the grip tightly.

Sam leaned forward, until she was a foot from Janet's face. She flashed a wide, sweet smile. "Trust me."

Janet didn't exactly manage to smile again, but her bruised face softened. "I do."

Sam was close to Janet, and the intensity between them was pushing Sam forward. It would be so easy to just lean down and kiss her, comfort her. Janet was holding her gaze, drawing her in. Sam tilted forward, and pressed her lips to Janet's temple. Janet's hand twisted in hers, delicate fingers caressing her wrist. Sam took it as encouragement, and let her kiss linger.

When she finally pulled back, she gave Janet an apologetic smile. "I've got to go data crunch what the Colonel and Teal'c are sending into the lab. I'll be back at 1100 hours to escort you home."

Sam saw fear in Janet's eyes again. "Don't worry," she whispered. "I've got your back." She wanted to kiss the doctor again, and half-suspected Janet wanted the same thing, but she reluctantly freed her hand and headed back to work. She wasn't sure if catching the bad guys would give Janet any peace, but Carter wanted a piece of them anyway.

* * *

O'Neill stood in the center of Janet Fraiser's living room. He was very still, with his eyes closed, breathing methodically, in and out. In and out.

If Teal'c didn't know any better, he would say his friend was chanting. "What are you doing, O'Neill."

"I'm trying to get a feel for the place. Maybe I can _sense_ the violence. Like they do on TV."

Teal'c raised his eyebrow.

"Hey, I'm not good at this invisible enemy stuff. Once I find the bastards, I'll know what to do."

"Perhaps we should look for anything suspicious."

Jack chewed his lip. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

They were examining the back door frame when a woman approached. "Excuse me?"

Jack's head jerked up. "Hi."

A woman in a blue dress stood on the lawn, squinting curiously at the men. "Are you with the Air Force?"

Jack stood, dusting off his trousers. "Yes, ma'am. Are you a neighbor?"

She smiled brightly. "Yes!"

"Good detecting," Teal'c rumbled.

Jack tossed a sharp look at his partner, and then turned back to the woman. "I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, and this is Murray."

Teal'c inclined his head.

"Did you...see something?" Jack asked.

The woman nodded and wrung her hands. "I didn't think anything of it until the military ambulance came, but it was gone too fast to come over." She breathed. "I thought the police would come, but then I saw you and realized maybe the Air Force had jurisdiction--"

"And what did you see, ma'am?"

"Oh, well, I'm a stay-at-home mom, but sometimes Cassie baby-sits on the weekends so I can go out and run errands, although the Fraisers usually keep to themselves--Janet's almost never home and I'm worried about that crowd Cassie hangs out with--" She paused to take a breath.

Jack jumped in. "And what did you see _today_ ma'am?"

"Two men came out of the house about 6:15 this morning. I only noticed them because I was out walking the dog. They looked agitated, and they were all in black, though otherwise they were normal enough. But then my husband commented that he hadn't seen Janet leave for work, and her car was still in the drive, and I thought about going over just to check but then the baby started crying and--"

"Just the facts, ma'am," Jack interrupted.

"I think you mean 'All we know are the facts, ma'am'," Teal'c offered.

Jack glared at Teal'c again. The woman seemed confused. Jack clarified. "Did you notice anything about how they left? A car?"

"Oh, yeah." The woman said. "They walked down the block a ways, first. I was following them with Casey."

They blinked.

"My dog."

They nodded.

Jack decided to ask Cassie what kind of kid this nut was raising. "And the car?" He interrupted the woman as she began her tirade on the responsibility of pet owners to use pooper-scoopers in a suburban environment.

"They drove a black SUV--disgusting things."

Jack coughed. Teal'c fidgeted.

"Oh, not _yours_." The woman stuttered. "The military needs its humvees and tanks and the like--we don't. You guys are the ones protecting us---Oh!'

Teal'c was taken aback. Jack's eyes widened.

"Their vanity plates. I remember. I thought they were 'Percent U.S.' But I bet it could have been 'Protect Us.'"

"From what?" Teal'c asked.

The woman shrugged.

"Well." Jack clapped his hands together. "Thank you for the information. It will help greatly. We have to have a look inside now."

"But--" The woman stepped forward and Jack contemplated if she would ask to look at the blood. But she didn't. "How--how is Janet?" She asked.

Jack smiled. "She'll be okay."

Teal'c bowed, and the men went into the house.

* * *

Daniel called Cassandra back. Her face was flushed with the pleasure of physical accomplishment. He felt bad for the news he needed to share, but he decided sending her out to recklessly mountain climb had been a good idea after all. She needed confidence if the time came to defend herself. He told her about the call from Hammond, watched the panic overtake her features, and hated himself.

Cassandra looked worriedly at her surroundings. "Can we go back into the cave?"

"Sure."

They walked into the darkness. They could hole up here indefinitely, as long as the people who attacked Janet didn't know where they were.

"Cassie," he said, and she looked at him uneasily. Daniel unholstered his zat. "I need to show you how to use this." He'd keep the handgun for himself. He preferred the zat, but he wouldn't put a loaded pistol into a child's hands. And the zat was easier to use.

When he'd molded her hand around the weapon, he had her fire at a few of the stalagmites, and did a dance to placate the rock gods and environmentalists. Then he positioned himself at the mouth of the cave. "Okay, shoot me."

She lowered the zat. "No."

"Look, Cassie," he lifted his hands. "You need to learn how to shoot a person. You can't freeze out there on the battlefield."

"I don't want to shoot a person." She whimpered.

"Do it!"

She raised the zat, her hand shaking. She stalled.

"Think of Janet," he called, and her grip got firmer. "Think of how Janet didn't keep a gun in the house. Do it!"

Cassandra fired.

She missed.

"Again," Daniel said. "I'm not shutting up until you do."

She aimed this time, and shot him.

Daniel crumpled to the ground, twitching.

"Daniel!" She called, and ran over to kneel beside him.

He rolled onto his back, moaning.

"Are you okay?"

He twitched.

Cassandra bit her lip. "Hey, that was kind of a rush. Can I shoot you again?"

Daniel made a note to glare as soon as his eyeballs stopped spinning in their sockets.

* * *

Sam had driven Janet home, searched the house, and fed her vitamin-fortified chicken noodle soup. Now they were killing time between dinner and bed with conversation.

"Where's your black bag?"

Janet blinked. "What do you want that for?"

"Well, tonight, you're the patient, doesn't that make me the doctor?" Janet was incredulous.

Sam grinned, and finding Janet's medical kit in the pantry, hauled it to the kitchen table and began rummaging through it. She triumphantly pulled out a stethoscope. "Love these things."

Janet was caught between an eye-roll and a chuckle. Sam put the stethoscope in her ears, and stood behind Janet, gently gliding the main piece down Janet's chest, just under the neckline of her shirt. "See," Sam murmured. "Your heart is strong. A warrior's heart."

Janet pulled away, resting her head on her forearms. "I'm not a warrior. I couldn't even defend myself."

Sam, undeterred, moved the stethoscope to Janet's back, and listened to the steady, slow thumping. "You didn't tell them about Stargate. You didn't tell them about Cassandra. Even though it might have saved you all this." Sam removed the earpiece and knelt, pressing her cheek against Janet's back, listening for herself. "We ask the same of SG1, and nothing more."

"God," Janet said with sudden realization, lifting her head and turning to face Sam. "This is what you go through every day?"

"Yes," Sam answered solemnly. "I get through it knowing at the end you'll be there waiting for me." She smiled, unsure, to lighten the moment. "Least I can do is return the favor."

"Oh, please," Janet said softly, but her dark eyes sparkled.

"It's true," Sam persisted. "Torture, mayhem, alien arm devices, you're always there. I trust you. Today, all you've done is proven that trust out."

Janet cupped Sam's cheek in wonder, laughed, and then coughed with sudden pain.

Sam reached up to cover Janet's hand with her own, then stood, drawing the palm from her face and using it as leverage to draw Janet to her feet. "Bedtime for patients, says I."

Janet shook her head with amusement. "All right."

They went upstairs, Sam leading the way, tugging Janet along. When they got to Janet's room, Sam paused awkwardly. "You can get undressed by yourself, right?"

Janet winked. "I think I can manage." She slipped into her bedroom and closed the door. After a moment, the door opened a crack and Janet called softly, "Sam?"

"I'm here."

"Don't go anywhere."

"I won't."

When Sam was invited in, Janet was under the covers in a long, sheer blue nightgown. Her expression was creased with underlying fear, and whenever her dark gaze wasn't on Sam, it was on the windows. "Stay?"

Sam nodded. She removed her holster and gun, unloading it and setting the clip and piece on the dresser.

"Unloaded?"

"I'm not leaving a loaded gun lying around where my daughter lives," Sam responded softly, as she sat on the edge of the bed to remove her boots. After she dropped them to the floor, she stretched out next to Janet, settling onto the comforter. Janet was lying on her back, a necessity of the tape around her abdomen and the brace around her arm. The bruises covering nearly every patch of bare skin were, if anything, a more lurid purple than at the hospital. It hurt Sam to look at them--the finger-marks stretching around Janet's neck filled her with nausea.

Janet reached for the lamp on the bedside table and switched off the light. She shivered audibly. Sam shifted closer, on her side, looping her free arm over Janet protectively.

"You're wrong, Sam," Janet whispered. "I'm not that strong."

"It's not about being strong. It's about surviving."

* * *

Sam awoke to the sensation of her hand being squeezed in a vice. The pressure became painful, and when an accompanying cry of anguish came, Sam's eyes flew open. She was still in the same position she'd fallen asleep in, and Janet was now clenching her hand. Janet was awake, her face tense with agony, her body soaked in sweat. Her lips were bleeding where she'd been into them, and every breath she took was a shallow rasp.

Sam rolled into a sitting position, alarmed.

"Stiff," Janet managed to gasp.

"Okay." Sam nodded. She touched Janet's forehead, briefly. "It's okay." She hopped off the bed and ran to the bathroom, scooping two painkillers from a prescription bottle and filling a glass of water from the sink. She padded back to Janet, offering her the pills.

Janet swallowed them and gulped the water gratefully, then sank back onto the pillows. It would take at least a half an hour for the drugs to numb her. Sam perched on the edge of the bed.

Janet's olive skin was unusually pale where it wasn't discolored, and her eyes were filled with shame and annoyance.

"It's okay," Sam repeated. "It's okay. Pain first." She cupped Janet's face in her palms, gently caressing the damaged skin. She stroked forehead, temples, cheeks, before sliding down to Janet's neck, her hands tracing the same path as the assailant's. Sam felt the knots at the top of Janet's spine, and began to knead them. Her eyes never left Janet's, and she never stopped murmuring encouraging nonsense. Sam was acutely aware of Janet's breasts heaving with her uneven breaths. Before the pressure against her forearms became awkward, she moved her arms lower, squeezing Janet's shoulders.

Janet had relaxed somewhat. "Where the hell did you learn that, Sam?"

Sam blushed. "Dr. Warner. He said this might happen."

Janet was too grateful to snort.

"Okay," Sam said cheerily, taking in the situation now that the crisis had abated. "The bandages can't come off your ribs until they're healed, so sponge bath time." She tugged at Janet encouragingly.

"No," Janet said. "Call a nurse."

"But--"

"No," Janet insisted. "I don't want you seeing me like this."

Sam bristled with resentment. "Okay." She exhaled. "I guess if you don't need me, then, I'll--" She backed toward the door.

"I need you," Janet answered quietly.

Sam stopped.

"Look, the computer downstairs has a secure line to the base... Wait for me... please?"

With a small nod, Sam turned and headed downstairs, her mind turning eagerly to work.

Janet caught the glee in Sam's eyes at the mention of the computer, and reached for the phone, her expression mirroring the resentment Sam's held earlier. The only thing worse than being miserable, constantly terrified, broken, sweaty, and sticky was developing a crush on a nerdy workaholic. Janet didn't much care, though. The drugs had begun their task, and she was feeling no pain.

* * *

Sam was typing furiously when Janet descended. She moved to the blond and wrapped her arms around the woman's shoulders. Sam smiled faintly, and Janet bent down to kiss the top of her head. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"You smell good," Sam replied distractedly, squinting at the screen.

"Tangerine spice," Janet offered by way of explanation. "Are you--doing something important? Leads?"

"Nah." Sam leaned back and shut off the computer. "Just killing time. Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c are chasing down some things." She sighed wistfully.

"Wish you were with your team?" Janet straightened up, feeling guilty that Sam was babysitting her, feeling guilty that she was taking advantage of her their friendship.

"Yes," Sam answered. "But not in the way you think." She swallowed. "I want revenge."

Janet was rendered breathless. "Sam--"

"I know." Sam sighed. "But I do." She shrugged. "I've been ordered to remain here, though. The MPs could do the bulk of the work, but General Hammond insists you're a valuable asset. Something along the lines of 1.2 million dollars?" Sam grinned cheekily.

"I know," Janet responded, placing her hands back on Sam's shoulders. "I read the memo."

Sam grinned. "So how do you feel about Monopoly?"

* * *

They readied for bed that night, setting an alarm so Janet could take muscle relaxants on a more appropriate schedule. The doctor wasn't sure she could keep Sam at her side at night much longer, and was determined to enjoy the rare chance as much as she could. She was feeling stronger, surer. The gun stayed out of sight. Sam wore jockeys and a grey Air Force sweatshirt, and slid under the covers. Janet was surprised at the femininity the taller woman expressed in her long, tapered legs and the gentle swell of her breasts under the grey cotton.

They giggled with girl talk well into the night. Eventually their pauses between verbalizations got longer, and Janet was half-asleep when a loud crack came from outside the window. She yelped.

Sam, instantly alert, moved closer to her charge, peering out the window at the dimly illuminated neighborhood. "I think it was just one of the guards dropping something," the blonde reported, her body responding as Janet reached for her. She held the smaller woman protectively for only moments before the radio on the nightstand crackled to life, confirming her suspicions. "Sorry if you heard that, ma'ams, I set my pack down a little too hard at the shift change." Sheila Cougan's voice reported.

Sam reached for the radio. "10-4, Sergeant." She turned back to Janet. "See? All safe." Her face was close to the doctor's.

Janet whimpered, and Sam shifted to embrace her more fully, whispering reassurances. She didn't know how it happened, but suddenly Janet's mouth was against hers, and they were kissing.

Janet would later confess to tugging Sam's head down, but in the moment, there was only the need, and the heat of their touch in the darkness. Janet's tongue was hot, and Sam moaned. As her lips parted to the urgent kiss, Sam's hands moved posssesively over Janet's body. She caressed the woman's breasts through the filmy nightgown, succumbing to Janet's need for comfort, telling herself that's all it was. Janet's hands, too, were frantic, one insinuating itself between Sam's legs, finding the wet spot on her jockeys that had been there since she'd crawled between the sheets.

Sam convulsed at Janet's touch, so close to coming after so many years on the brink. With Janet's plundering tongue in her mouth, Janet's hand moving surely between her thighs, Sam came quickly, arching into her partner, heedless of the injuries. She gasped, and finally yanked her head away from Janet's to take invigorating breaths. It had happened so fast her head was spinning.

Her hands, still holding Janet's breasts, removed their light, squeezing touches. They resumed kissing, more softly this time, Sam's mouth sweet against Janet's, cautious and tender against the chafed skin.

Sam's left hand slipped lower, to touch Janet's belly through the silk, but Janet's breathed, "No," against her lips stopped her. Sam massaged Janet's nipples into turgid points, and only when Janet's breath began to catch did she toss one muscled thigh over Janet's legs. Janet bent her knees shamelessly, and began grinding herself against Sam, moving only her hips, conscious of the bandages, careful not to strain her torso or lower back.

Sam dipped her head to capture one of Janet's straining nipples in her mouth, sucking through the nightgown, and Janet came, wordlessly, tensing, then relaxing, her hand moving to Sam's hair, cradling her head.

Sam suckled until Janet's fingers freed her, slipping from her straw-colored hair, and she realized Janet was sleep.

* * *

By the time Janet woke up the next morning, Sam was already at the keyboard. When Janet entered the room, Sam looked up and smiled "Hey. You got dressed."

Janet blushed, and looked down at herself. Polyester day suit with a matching jacket. Civvies. But she'd wanted to look nice. And capable.

Sam rambled on. "I made breakfast." She nodded to a tall glass near the monitor.

Janet looked over at the grey liquid. "Slimfast?" She gave Sam a withering stare.

Sam blushed. "Milkshake with vitamins, protein powders, and some herbal things. Dr. Warner said it would go down easily."

Janet walked over, and took a cautious sip.

Sam smiled. "If you're good, you get solid food at lunch." She paused, with an impish expression. "Like maybe cut up hot dogs. Or a banana."

Janet rolled her eyes.

Sam clicked off the screen and stood up, reaching for her pack. "I'm needed at the base." She squirmed around Janet and headed for the back door.

"Sam--" Janet called, following her. Sam turned. Janet looked at her wordlessly then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Sam's waist, hugging her tightly.

Sam returned the hug, holding her for a long moment. "I'll see you when this is all over," Sam said reassuringly when they parted. She darted through the door.

"You'd better."

* * *

Jack and Teal'c sauntered into the parking lot of a non-descript strip mall in Denver. "Here's the car Carter tracked," O'Neill said, pointing to a black SUV. "Kinda obvious." He scanned the signs of the shops, squinting purposefully at one reading -Earth for Earthers-. "SETI it ain't," he muttered.

"Do you think they wish to be found, O'Neill."

Jack frowned, contemplating the storefront. "Yeah. We're being watched." He nodded to a mounted video camera on the brick eaves. "Maybe they're hoping to lure alien footage. Try and be human, Murray."

"I will endeavor to do so, O'Neill."

O'Neill glanced at him.

Teal'c tried again. "Okay, man."

Jack nodded, and they approached the storefront. "Good thing we wore suits," Jack muttered. "I bet these guys don't like the Air Force."

They walked in.

A thin young man sitting at the receptionist desk smirked at them. O'Neill read the expression as recognition and stepped forward quickly, seizing the man's hand as it rested on the desk. Several crescent-shaped, scabbed gouges speckled his knuckles.

"We got your DNA from Janet Fraiser's fingernails," Jack growled.

The man's smug expression didn't waver. "I want a lawyer."

"You want a lawyer?" Jack squeezed the man's hand, compressing the fingers until the lad winced in pain.

"O'Neill."

Jack glanced at the cameras then bent down closer to his prisoner, hissing in his ear. "You don't know the first thing about extracting information from someone small and helpless. But I do." He gave the abused fingers another squeeze.

The man squeaked, but then gathered himself, and spoke with a confident tone. "We've been expecting you. You're too late. Our off-world patriot is already in motion. The alien infiltrator will be ours or dead within the hour."

"Who's your contact?" Jack gave a squeeze.

"I'll never tell," the man whimpered through lips white with pain.

"Murray?" Jack instructed.

Teal'c pulled a zippo stamped with the Air Force crest from his blazer's inner pocket. He flicked it into flame, and looked curiously at the man.

"All right! All right! He's an engineer at the beta site. He thinks sharing technology with aliens is wrong."

Teal'c ran his fingers through the fire.

"It's Corporal Ross! He's gone after her!"

Teal'c snapped the lighter shut. Jack let the man go. They headed for the door Jack already flipping open his cell phone.

"Are you just going to leave him, O'Neill."

"Cops'll be here, oh--nowish." Jack nodded to a squad car pulling up.

Teal'c sighed.

"I know, buddy. But we've got places to be."

* * *

Cassandra and Daniel were sitting around a campfire eating MREs as twilight descended onto the empty planet.

"These things are disgusting, Daniel," Cassandra said around a mouthful of beef au juis. "I can't believe you eat these things every day."

"Neither can I," Daniel grumbled as he bit down on his hot dog.

The sound of a crunch echoed his movement. They both looked at each other. "What was that?" Cassandra asked.

"It wasn't me." Daniel put down his food.

The sound came again.

"Chevrons engaging." Daniel stood up, unsnapping his holster.

'Maybe we can go home," Cassandra said, scrambling to her feet.

"Maybe," Daniel murmured, listening.

The faint squishing of the wormhole sounded, then Daniel's radio crackled to life."Doctor Jackson? Are you out there?"

Cassandra squealed with glee. Daniel lifted a hand to caution her, and glanced at his walkie-talkie.

"Doctor Jackson, this is Corporal Ross, from beta site. I'm here to retrieve you and the person with you."

Daniel frowned. "It should come from Hammond or Jack," he whispered to Cassandra. "Something's wrong."

Fear overtook Cassandra, and she reached for the zat.

"We need to get as far away from here as possible. This is the first place they'll look. We'll head for the 'Gate."

Cassandra nodded, and after grabbing the IDC device, they slipped out of the canyon.

Thirty minutes later they were lying flat on their stomachs, looking down over a ridge toward the Stargate. The space below was empty and quiet. Corporal Ross kept up his entreaties on the radio, but Daniel turned down the volume so they couldn't be tracked by the echoes. Daniel furrowed his brow. "Maybe we should dial Earth. Hammond didn't mention a foothold situation, he just wanted us in the safest place possible. This is no longer it."

"Okay," Cassandra breathed.

"Cover me. Stay hidden." Daniel scrambled down the ravine toward the gate. Cassandra followed more slowly. As Daniel began dialing in, a figure appeared on the hill opposite them.

"Stop right there!" The figure called, and began running toward the gate. He was carrying a P90, and had it pointed at Daniel as he approached. Daniel threw up his hands in surrender. "Where's the girl?" The man called.

"Daniel!" Cassandra screamed, and the man turned in her direction, searching the scrub for her. Daniel lunged for the gun, but the man used the butt of it to knock the archeologist down into the red dirt. "I'll shoot him!" Corporal Ross called into the canyon.

Cassandra screamed, and fired the zat. She missed, and the man whirled in her direction again, opening fire to the left of her. Cassandra threw herself to the ground as she'd been briefly taught, and steadied her elbow. She fired again, and hit him this time, wincing as he let out a scream of agony as the blue light surrounded him. He slumped to the ground.

He continued to jerk on the ground, but was still struggling to lift the P90 again. Daniel took in the situation from his position in the dirt and yelled at Cassandra, "Shoot him!"

She did. Ross didn't move again.

Daniel clutched his shoulder as he stood and leaned heavily on the DHD. He ignored the bloody cut on his cheek where the rfile hit him as he watched the chevrons spin to life.

Cassandra cautiously approached Ross, then doubled over and vomited. When she straightened again, her face was flushed, but she held the zat sturdily, watching the seventh chevron lock. When the Stargate opened, Jack, Carter, and Teal'c, in full tactical regalia, stepped through. Jack pointed at the body. "Corporal Ross, I presume?"

Daniel and Cassandra nodded in unison.

"Well," Jack said, tucking his thumbs into his vest straps. "Looks like we got here just in time."

* * *

Janet pressed the gauze against Daniel's wound just a little too hard. "You let my daughter go _rock climbing_?"

"Janet, Janet..." Daniel winced. "When my parents were dead, I had to do things on my own, so I just thought, maybe Cassandra could try things too, and..."

Janet poked the cut, causing Daniel to squeal. "Cassandra's parent is very much alive. Do you--" She poked. "Understand?"

"Yes!" He cowered, and tossed a look to Sam, who was regally slouched against the infirmary door, watching the scene with amusement. "Isn't she supposed to be weak and vulnerable?"

Sam smirked. Janet poked.

"Ow!"

* * *

Sam sat in her lab, doing...nothing. The Fraisers had been avenged, and she had downtime for 39 hours until she was scheduled for a preliminary briefing on PQX-587. She was trying not to think about touching Janet, because she didn't want to face it if Janet wanted to erase that night. She was too distracted to think of anything else, though, so she just sat, staring at lines of code that seemed incomprehensible on her computer monitor.

"Hey." Janet called from the doorway.

Sam turned. Janet still moved slowly, and bruises lingered everywhere, but she'd rushed to the base once she heard they had a solid lead, and once on the mountain, she had insisted on working. Now she looked exhausted.

"How's Cassie?"

"Okay. She's spending the night with Jack. He's got a lot to talk to her about."

"That'll help." Sam nodded, trying to look encouraging.

"I hope so. I didn't want this to happen to her... ever, in my lifetime." Janet shook her head and sighed. "I need a distraction from my whole life right now. Girls night out?"

Was she just a distraction? Sam wondered. "Sure."

"You pick the movie."

"Oui."

* * *

Sam sauntered into Janet's living room that night carrying a Blockbusters bag, a six-pack of diet coke, and a lime. She was wearing the tightest jeans she owned, a white button-down shirt that highlighted her desert-planet tan, and cowboy boots. It was Colorado, after all.

Janet, lying on the couch, peered at her. "A lime?"

"I thought we could pretend they were Coronas."

Janet chuckled. "I'm sorry my medication is cramping your style."

"Whatever you do, please don't stop taking your medication again," Sam teased. "Since you can't sit upright too long--" Sam grinned as Janet stuck her tongue out. "I thought I'd bring girls night to you." She hefted the plastic bag. "Any guesses?"

Janet snatched the bag away and rummaged through it. "Sam."

"Hm?"

"These are all my favorite movies."

"Yeah."

"But you hate them all."

"Well, hate is such a strong word..."

Janet selected a DVD and handed it over. "I guess we need to talk."

"I guess." Sam put the movie in and settled onto the floor, near Janet's head. She kept her eyes on the FBI warning.

Janet leaned over and ruffled Sam's hair, idly stroking the back of her neck. Sam forced herself to remain still, though she wanted to arch into Janet's touch like a cat. Maybe even purr.

"About the other night..." Janet started.

Sam tensed. The previews were over. She reached for the remote and hit mute.

"I won't deny that it was a purely selfish act on my part. I'm sorry."

"I--" Sam protested.

"Shssh." Janet tickled the back of Sam's neck and continued. "And physically, all that cavorting around hurt like hell. No, don't apologize." Janet took a deep breath. "Sam, I don't want to ruin our friendship by--"

"I love you."

Janet was quiet for so long that Sam nearly took her words back. She hung her head, moving away from Janet's fingers, and studied the remote control. Play. Stop. Edit. She wondered what that button did. She didn't dare press it.

"Sam."

Sam turned around to look at Janet. Their faces were nearly level. The doctor's dark eyes were luminous with tears. "Sam," she said again, reaching out to cup the blonde's face. Sam smiled, an innocent, cherubic expression--displaying the quality Janet loved best about her: Earnest hope. Tears spilled onto Janet's cheeks. "You do?" She finally asked Sam.

"Yeah." Sam leaned toward Janet. Their lips met tentatively. After a moment, Sam pulled away to smile at Janet. Janet's hand stroked Sam's cheek then slid to the back of her neck, drawing her closer. Their lips met again in an indulgent kiss.

Sam nipped and nuzzled Janet's mouth, coaxing her. She lightly slipped her tongue between Janet's lips then retreated to trace Janet's mouth, which was still rough and textured from healing. Janet whimpered and tightened her grip on Sam's head. She entered Sam's mouth, possessing it, capturing her partner's tongue with her own.

Sam gave herself over to the warm tongue in her mouth, suckling until Janet's moans were vibrating against her lips.

Janet reluctantly drew back and smiled apologetically. "I don't think I'm healed enough to be necking on the couch."

Sam's flash of disappointment was erased by Janet's next words. "So let's go upstairs."

Sam stood and carefully guided Janet to her feet. She wondered dimly if they should be talking, but she'd known Janet intimately for years, and supposed she knew what she needed. This didn't feel like a mistake.

Upstairs, Janet made her wait outside her door again while she changed. Sam used the moment to smell herself, fret, and wonder if she had time to brush her teeth. She was about to lunge for the bathroom when Janet invited her into the bedroom.

Janet was reclining on several pillows piled against the headboard, wearing Sam's grey Air Force sweatshirt--Only the grey Air Force sweatshirt.

Sam's mouth went dry. She gaped. The sweatshirt was big enough on Janet to conceal what Sam rather wanted to see, but Sam could at least tell that Janet wasn't wearing any underwear. Her eyes roved the curve of Janet's hips. Janet had taken her hair down, and it hung straight but tousled, to an inch above her shoulders, giving her a more inviting look than she usually had on the job. Janet looked younger and less sure than Sam had ever seen her, and Sam ached to kiss her again.

Sam knew, suddenly, that Janet was offering her something she didn't offer to anyone else, and Sam blushed with the trust given. She knew Janet was wearing the shirt to hide the white tape covering her torso, and Sam would have to be gentle. She wondered if they should be doing this at all--Janet's face was still marred by greenish bruises, but she wasn't unselfish enough to make an issue of it if Janet didn't.

Sam stood at the foot of the bed, flushed by the sight of Janet stretched out before her, aroused by the anticipation of what they were about to do. She was taunted by fear that crept up her spine. Could she please Janet? Could they make this last? She put one knee on the bed.

"Stop."

Sam stopped. Janet was smiling wickedly, and the sense of anticipation increased along with the pounding between Sam's legs.

Janet licked her lips. She was taking control, and it made sense. Janet was used to being in control. Braver men than Sam cowered regularly before the doctor. But the assault had violated Janet's natural state of being, and she needed to assert herself. She was using Sam to do it. Sam hadn't really thought about herself in a submissive role, but if would help Janet...

Sam shivered. That one stray thought and she was willing to do anything she was told. Janet interrupted her pondering and reminded her of their ultimate purpose for being in the Fraiser master bedroom--healing was only a small part of it. "Strip."

Sam reached for the top button of her shirt, her eyes never leaving the seductive black ones staring back at her. She began to sway, not exactly dancing, but moving, slinking. It was hard to unbutton and undulate at the same time, but exaggerating the strip tease made it fun. She was rewarded when, as she parted her shirt to reveal the shadows of her breasts, Janet let out a low moan.

Impatient to hear that noise again, Sam abandoned the slow seduction and yanked the shirt over her head, dropping it carelessly. She reached for the clasp of her bra.

"Front clasp?" Janet inquired. "Were you expecting something?"

Sam stopped in mid-unclasping and blushed, her neck and chest turning red along with her face. "Boy Scout motto, always be prepared."

"Boy Scout..." Janet smirked, presumably picturing Sam as a 10-year-old. "Do you have a uniform?"

"I have lots of uniforms."

"Come here, cub," Janet drawled.

Sam knelt and crawled to Janet, her long, lanky body crouching over the small woman wearing her sweatshirt. They kissed. Janet captured Sam's lower lip between hers and tugged until Sam moaned. The doctor used the distraction to cup Sam's breasts, squeezing them through the bra.

Sam yanked her mouth away from Janet's as Janet smoothly unclasped the bra and covered Sam's bare breasts with her palms.

"Janet," Sam breathed. "That feels so--" Her breath caught in her throat as Janet gently tugged her nipples. "--Good."

Sam arched up and kissed Janet again, thrusting herself forward into Janet's hands, groaning with the pressure and the tugging and twisting. Her nipples were so sensitive and swollen that every brush of Janet's fingertips sent waves of pleasure through her to the locus of her desire. She imagined that her clitoris was as swollen as her nipples.

Janet's gentle roughened lips were a delicious contrast to her deft hands, and Sam fell into the kiss. She was consumed by the caresses, and though she ached to touch Janet and share the heady pleasure, her arms were bracing her in a crouch over the doctor. Sam didn't want to collapse onto Janet's bruised body and hurt her further. The aching in her biceps was a sobering reminder to be tender with Janet, but Janet's sharp pinch to her nipple, to which Sam let out a surprised squeak, showed the soldier that Janet wasn't going to be gentle in return.

Unfair. But when Janet pinched Sam again, she decided she didn't mind.

"Sam," Janet wrenched her mouth away from their kiss and gasped. "God, you're beautiful."

There was a yearning in the adoring tone of Janet's words that made Sam reluctantly pull away from her partner's hands, despite the impulse every nerve was sending her, imploring her to just grind against Janet, let the coarse denim of the jeans the blonde was still wearing do the rest, and find relief.

But Janet's voice held her entranced and, when Sam scooted back to see Janet more clearly, took in the dark, lidded eyes, the parted lips wet with their kisses, the small, child-like body molded into the worn shirt, Sam knew the needs of her own body were meaningless.

"Sam," Janet implored huskily.

Sam bent her head to kiss Janet's thighs. Her mind, attuned to pattern, saw the heavy-booted kicks that left crescent-shaped imprints on Janet's skin. Her lips brushed each green wound gently, erasing the violence with baths of her tongue, hot and wet and circling toward Janet's center.

Janet spread her legs enticingly, revealing dark red curls damp with desire. Sam's gaze followed the glistening wetness to where swollen lips were beckoning her. Janet wanted her. She let go of all anxiety, and bent her head.

Sam ran her tongue over Janet's cleft, teasingly brushing the outer lips and the sides of the clitoris. Janet moaned. Sam dipped into Janet's heat, slipping inside for a moment, then back out again to kiss and suck the swollen bundle of nerves peeking out from Janet's curls.

Janet grabbed her hair and urged her closer, demanding an end to the teasing. Sam buried her face between Janet's legs. She suckled Janet's clitoris, tugging it between her lips, using her tongue for wide strokes and increasing her speed to pace Janet's cries, flicking the hard tumescence. She ached to explore Janet, to slip into her again, to taste each crevice, but Janet was having none of it.

Janet's eyes alternately closed to focus on the sensations of Sam's mouth against her, and opened to see Sam's blue jean-clad rear, gyrating as she crouched on the bed. The sight aroused her as much as Sam's tongue, and even as she pressed her throbbing core against Sam's mouth and whimpered for more, she fantasized about how good it would feel to squeeze and spank and kiss Sam's ass. Jeans optional. She even reached a few times, but she felt sharp pains in her ribs as she curled forward, so she abandoned herself to Sam's ministrations.

Lying back on the pillows, her knees bent, her legs shamelessly splayed, Janet came. She held Sam's face against her as she shook with orgasm, gasping. When she finally released Sam and relaxed into the pillows, the blond rolled off her, presumably to catch her breath.

Without Sam arching protectively over her, Janet felt exposed. And it felt... okay. She paused to examine the moment, and listen to Sam breathing beside her. "Sam," she whispered. "Come here."

Sam lifted her head, and smiled, moving up to kiss Janet. "I'm here."

Janet reached down and hooked her finger through a loop of Sam's jeans, tugging. "Closer, cub..."

* * *

Later, as they snuggled in Janet's bed, finally undressed and under the covers, Janet whispered, "I think I feel...safe." At Sam's answering squeeze, Janet blinked backed tears of relief, and settled her head more securely against her lover's shoulder. She welcomed the night.