Crown Infernal


Sam'n'Sir by Scream Rat

This nasty little tale is yet another tag for "Deride and Bonk 'er."
WARNINGS: extremely crude language and explicit sex,
angst in spades, also a reality check for romantic fantasists.
There ain't no 'Happy Ever Afters.' (CHARACTER DEATH.)


Author's Note: This is not about Major Carter as I see her. The wanton wretch depicted in this story is the pathetic, scruffy, dishonorable and unprofessional strumpet with raging teenaged hormones as presented to us by The Wankers In Charge.

It shows Colonel O'Neill's misguided and increasingly desperate attempts to extricate himself from the spider's web of her 'love.' Neither of them appears in a good light.

Yet I feel that this story is still marginally more credible than the cloyingly sentimental 'happy-ever-after' ending that TWIC have been trying to ram down our throats. You know? The one with Sam'n'Sir riding happily into the sunset, Jack in shining armor and Sam in that blue frock from Emancipation... Bleugh! ::pokes two fingers down throat::

This is the 'Anti-ship Elixir' to purge the system of the whole appalling idea.

Sits back to await the vilest flames from the hottest level of hell.
But at least I'll have Dean Winchester to play with while I wait. {VEG}

Thanks to A.E. for the beta. It was a dirty job but someone had to do it! [ 3,855 words ]



She has saved his life, she thinks, and remembers the Chinese saying that if you save someone's life, that life belongs to you. He is grateful but cannot say too much - cannot say the 'L' word here. What he says is enough. She knows he is hers.

He hopes she will not read more into what he says than what he was obliged to say to get Anise and her fucking Xanax machine away from the SGC. Away from him.

She is disappointed that he doesn't follow up later. In private. She rationalizes this as his way of protecting her reputation.

He is disturbed by the way she looks at him - by the way she's letting her hair get out of hand. Slutty. Maybe he should order her to smarten herself up a bit? A lot? He hopes no one else notices. He doesn't want it misconstruing. If anyone thinks they're flouting regs, he'll be the one who's held to blame. She'll be all right. Her brain is too valuable.

She gives him doe-eyed looks that are meant to say, I love you too. I am yours. Take me.

He sees the yearning looks and groans inwardly. He knows it's just a crush like a schoolgirl for her teacher. She's looking at him through rose-tinted glasses and seeing things in him that aren't there and not seeing things that are. He hopes she'll soon grow out of it and find someone more suitable. He's been married once already and look how that ended. Not gonna make the same mistake again.

She continues to send him messages with her eyes. Why doesn't he see? Or maybe he does but doesn't understand? Yet she can't tell him herself. He is the colonel. The man. He must take the lead. Be masterful.

He sees she isn't giving up and it's getting embarrassing. Others are going to notice soon. Something will be said. How can he stop her? Show her that he isn't what she imagines in her fantasy vision of him? He could just tell her that feeling more than he should isn't the same thing as love. It might work.

Then again, women's minds work in strange ways. She might think he's just stating the official policy for form's sake, but doesn't really mean it. Or he's running scared. He remembers the saying about a woman scorned. If she sees his rejection of her that way - and after she's saved his life - she could take serious revenge. One way or another.

The next mission gives him an idea. They seem to be stuck in groundhog day. Daniel mentions that he can do anything he wants with no consequences. But there's no point in exploiting that clause now because she won't remember. But when the looping stops...

He goes round to her house.

She is surprised to see him, but welcomes him in and makes him coffee. They talk about this and that and nothing very much. She hopes this is the beginning of togetherness. It is, but not the way she imagines it.

He says he's come to fulfil a promise that he made to her while they were looping.

Her heart soars. She doesn't know he made no promise of any sort.

"Ok, get your kit off, Carter."

"Sir?" This isn't the romantic overture she was imagining.

"I said, get your kit off, Carter."

She looks at him, puzzled, but doesn't move. "Sir?" she says again.

"I want to look at your tits, and then I want somewhere hot and wet to slide my cock into, and your cunt is top of the list right now. In both cases, your clothes are gonna get in the way, so take 'em off," he says, unbuttoning his pants. He lets his cock stand free. It's not Carter he's thinking of to get an erection.

This is what she wants but not like this.

"Oh, come on Carter!" he says testily. "You weren't so coy when we were looping!"

She gasps. "When we w...?"

"I fucked you every time we looped - well except when you sucked me off. Gotta say, you give good head." He doesn't have to say that. It isn't true, any of it. He just wants to shock her into thinking he's a bastard. Then maybe she'll lose the whole fantasy thing she seems to have going.

She is stunned and thinks, My god! I've had his cock in my mouth?

"You couldn't get enough," he says. "I thought it didn't seem fair that you wouldn't remember any of it, so I made you a promise that when we stopped looping, I'd come round and fuck you when you would remember it. So get your kit off, Carter."

Well, she wanted him to be masterful... And he's already seen her naked. Probably. She has nothing to hide now. She strips off with alacrity.

This isn't the reaction he either expects or wants. She was supposed to send him packing. He doesn't know, or he's forgotten, that women love bastards. It's the challenge. To change them. To turn the feral cur into a cuddly pooch.

She doesn't know, or she's forgotten, that it's always doomed to fail and will end in tears. She looks at him coquettishly at first, then hungrily.

Dammit, he's going to have to go through with this. Only for a moment does he consider telling her to put her clothes back on; he prefers the virginal types, not loose women. It would certainly kill her thoughts of romance with him, but he'd like to keep his nuts intact. And attached.

So far, she hasn't really done anything she could be court-martialed for. But he has. Granted it would be his word against hers. On the other hand, if she lets him fuck her... The fact that he isn't speaking falsetto will show it was consensual.

He stands and advances towards her. Reaches out and rolls a nipple between finger and thumb. She closes her eyes. Gives a low moan. He toys with her clit a little, then slides two fingers inside her. She's certainly turned on. Way more than he wants her to be. He uses her juices as lube, then kicks her feet further apart.

She's watching him now. Looks down, wanting to see his cock disappearing between her thighs. Waiting for him to penetrate her. She shudders as he does so. He cups her buttocks then jerks into her with short stabbing movements. He wants it over quickly. Wants to leave her unsatisfied. Disappointed.

When he pulls out, she's as disappointed as he could have wished. She was so close to orgasm. A couple more thrusts would have brought her off, she's sure. She's also disappointed when he stuffs a wad of tissues between her legs and tells her to go get cleaned up.

When she comes back, he's gone. Her disappointment peaks. She was hoping for more once he'd recovered. He's no longer a young stud after all. Then she could've taken it - and him - into her bed.

Maybe he had a call from the S.G.C. He could've said... It's the first bum note she notices.

The next few days are spent on a mission to Russia. She is disappointed because Sir has paired her with Daniel, not himself.

At the first opportunity, he visits her home again. She wanted masterful and he gives it to her in spades. He makes no small talk, just tells her to get her kit off and shows off his cock. She makes no protest. Does as she's told. He fucks her then fucks off.

Back in the SGC, he sees no sign of disapproval from her. She still gives him the doe-eyed looks, but now they're underpinned with lust. Her eyes tell him that 'we' have a secret something. Something that no one else is party to. Not even Daniel or Teal'c.

His scowl tells her that there is no 'we.' Never has been, never will be. She's right that they do have a secret something. Actually, that's not quite right. They have two secret somethings. A hidden 'romance,' and an abusive 'relationship' based on desperation. He knows it will end badly. She is oblivious.

He goes to her house and fucks her on a fairly regular basis for several weeks, missions permitting. His visits are never announced in advance, never last more than ten minutes tops. Their fucking satisfies neither of them, but for different reasons.

He wonders if putting her in a more subordinate position, her hackles might rise. She might refuse.

"I need a change," he announces as he stalks in, cock proudly on display. "Just drop your pants and bend over the kitchen barstool. I want to fuck you doggy style." He's calling her a bitch, though not in those exact words.

She picks up the implication. She's his bitch. There is a subtle difference. It even sounds kind of cool. So she goes along. She finds she likes the position as he hits her Grafenberg spot. For the first time, she comes, and comes screaming. His heart sinks.

He wonders when she's going to wise up and tell him to fuck off before he sticks his cock in her. She surely can't think it's because of the chain of command. Can she? For crying out loud, he's fucking her and he shouldn't be! He wishes now, that he'd spelt it out to her right from the beginning. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, especially after she'd just saved his life. He should've caused her a little hurt then rather than risk the fall-out that is to come. Oh, the wisdom of hindsight!

Maybe he needs outside assistance...?

He overhears Carter ask Daniel to do some translations for her. Daniel says he will drop them off on his way home that night, and answer any questions. It's an opportunity. Heaven sent? Probably not but he'll take it anyway.

He knows Daniel's timetable and arrives ten minutes before he's likely to arrive. He strides into Carter's house, unbuttoning as he enters.

"Ok, drop your pants and bend over," he says brusquely.

"Er, sir, right now isn't really—"

"Convenient?" he finishes for her, pleased to note a little less than her usual compliance. "Screw convenient. I want to screw you."

He wants me is what she hears and she remembers the last time, when she orgasmed. Things are getting better. They're growing closer at last. Sir was right. Screw Daniel.

He's taking it slow but for his own purposes. Can't come to soon. His cock is buried in Carter's cunt when Daniel walks in.

"Jack? What're you doing?" he exclaims.

"I'm fucking Carter. What does it look like I'm doing?" he grunts.

Daniel's jaw drops. He flounders in a plethora of half sentences, ending, "I'll - er - I'll come back when it's more—"

"Convenient?" he finishes for him. "No need. Stick around. I'll only be a minute."

A few short, sharp thrusts and he pumps his jism into her. He passes the tissue box as he slips out of her, then tucks his softening cock back in his pants.

"There you are, Daniel," he says, patting him on the shoulder as he leaves, adding with a wink, "she's all yours."

Neither she nor Daniel make any reference to what he's just 'chanced upon.' She is still high on Sir. Daniel is troubled. Doesn't know what to do. He can see trouble looming. Feels he should do something. Say something. But what? To whom? He would never betray either of them in any event.

Things come to a head several months later while they're on a mission. Daniel's working out a treaty with the local dignitaries. Teal'c and Major Kovacek are with him.

Carter is on her knees, checking out mineral samples, a couple of kliks away. She is interested and totally focused on the job. For a while. Sir is acting as her back-up, and getting more and more bored as the minutes stretch into seeming infinity. For him.

He sets down his P90 and unbuttons. Kneeling down behind her, he reaches round and unbuttons her pants too, then slides them and her panties down. She does not resist. Neither of them is aware of being watched.

Daniel has sent Major Kovacek with a message that the treaty talks have been successfully concluded and that they're returning to the S.G.C. The two officers of S.G.-1 are so involved in their fucking (for him, love-making for her) that neither of them would have noticed the arrival of a platoon of jaffa.

As they reach conclusion, Kovacek, holding the discarded P90, taps O'Neill on his shoulder. O'Neill is startled, as well he might be.

"Ah, Stan," he nods, acknowledging the junior officer's presence. He realizes that he, at least, is in deep, deep shit. Potentially.

He has an idea. Either Stan will be willing to compromise himself, and the problem will go away, or she will wise up and lose the rose-tinted glasses. Neither result has any great appeal, but after months of increasing desperation, he's almost past caring.

He stands up and gestures towards Carter's pert buttocks. "You want to take a turn? Be my guest."

It's as if he's just let off a rocket in a fireworks factory. Carter red-faced with embarrassment and fury, stands up and adjusts her clothing.

"What are you suggesting, sir?" she exclaims. It's a rhetorical question.

"Aw, come on, Carter," he mutters in her ear. "Stan just caught us well in flagrante. What's to stop him reporting the pair of us, and getting us court-martialed? Both of us. But if you put out for him, then he can't, can he?"

She takes the second option and wises up. If he'll whore her out to Major Kovacek, what's to stop him whoring her out to anyone else who catches them?

"How could you?!" she screams. "I thought you loved me!"

There is nothing he can say to that. He doesn't love her. Never has. Never will. He could lie, but knows they'll both see through it. He can see in their eyes that they both think he's exploited his rank to get into her pants. Well, now that the whole charade is coming to its natural conclusion, he can at least banish one illusion.

"I never said I loved you. I liked you and I respected you, but love was never on the agenda." Then he holds out his hands and Kovacek zip-cuffs his wrists.

He is the senior officer. They throw the book at him. He makes no defence of his actions. Says nothing at all. Takes it on the chin. Protecting her in spite of everything. It is his way.

She is less reticent. Only then does he say anything.

He stands up and demands, "And you call this love? At least I never made any such pretence." Then he sits down again and takes no further part.

As he thought, her brain is too valuable for the S.G.C. to lose. Deemed to be more the victim than the transgressor in the case, she is fined $20,000 and reduced to the rank of captain, with a reprimand to remain on her record.

They make an example of him. He gets eight years jail time with sixty days in solitary, a $50,000 fine, the loss of all pension rights and a dishonorable discharge. He is spared the ignominy of the glare of publicity. The security of Stargate Command must be protected.

General Hammond is ashen faced after the sentence is read out. There has been no blame apportioned to him, but he decides to take early retirement anyway. He looks devastated. She feels a twinge of guilt but, being 'The Victim,' she dismisses it. It is all his fault. Her conscience quibbles about that 'all.'

After the courts-martial, she discovers the disadvantages of still being at liberty. Still working at the S.G.C. She has some sympathizers, mostly people who'd crossed swords with O'Neill in the past, and come off badly. But they still think the less of her for letting him take advantage of her. And for not spilling the beans sooner.

For the rest, she is the scarlet woman, the one who had her wicked way with him and then dished the dirt when she was tired of him. With her tunnel vision, in which he was hers and hers alone, she has not fully appreciated just how popular a leader he has been. Most people think he is too good to have been brought so low by her. As a result, she has become a pariah. Toxic Sam. No one wants her in the field. Her new team mates shun her as far as the missions will allow.

Even Daniel and Teal'c look at her with sadness in their eyes. They still interact with her, but the closeness, the bonhomie, is gone. Lost forever.

One evening, an unknown group, masked and dressed in black, jump her in the S.G.C. parking garage. She's bound and gagged with gaffer tape. Then they shave her head. Plenty of people pass nearby but no one 'sees' her. She is not found until the following morning. In the infirmary later, even Dr. Fraiser is less than sympathetic.

She transfers to a desk job with N.A.S.A. at Glenn Research Center in Cleveland, Ohio. Her glittering career has come to a dead end. Sometimes, if she's being brutally honest with herself, she thinks maybe she is, in some small part, the architect of her own downfall, but mostly it's easier to blame Sir for exploiting her love for him.

Daniel and Teal'c try to keep in touch with O'Neill, but he does not respond. He is ashamed of letting them down. Eventually they get the message. In sorrow, they stop trying.

He is a model prisoner in the U.S. Disciplinary Barracks at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, once his black ops. tactics have convinced his fellow inmates to leave him alone. They don't bother him. He won't bother them. It gets him another two years jail time though.

They release him just after his fifty-fourth birthday. Although he has no prison record - the S.G.C. is still top secret - he is unemployable. He has no work record for the past ten years, and cannot legally explain the fact.

He returns to the Springs where he can visit Charlie's grave. There, he becomes a familiar figure at the soup kitchens. He gains some sympathy, this tall silent man. Clearly there is some tragedy in his past.

With the passage of time, sleeping rough and self-neglect take their toll. He becomes increasingly unkempt and emaciated. He takes to begging, sitting on the sidewalk in his cardboard box with tin can in front of him.

A smartly dressed man kindly stuffs a ten dollar bill in his tin can. O'Neill says nothing, afraid of being recognized. Daniel walks on, unaware of the identity of the wreck of humanity whom he has helped.

Daniel passes by the following week and the old man is still there. This time he contributes twenty dollars and the instruction to get some hot food inside him. The old man keeps his head down. Doesn't look at Daniel. Can't tell him that he is not welcome in respectable eateries. The best he can hope for are scraps scavenged from the bins at the back of said eateries.

Daniel is taken by the old man's plight, though he can't explain why this taciturn old man is somehow special. He makes a point of passing the old man's pitch whenever he's in that part of town.

Autumn is turning into winter. Feathery flakes of snow are beginning to settle. Daniel buys a new winter coat. Thinks of the old man. His need is great. He will pass on his old one. The old man accepts the coat but says nothing. Daniel still does not realize that this is O'Neill.

Several days later, Daniel decides to visit Charlie's grave. He had been a couple of times with Jack. Since the courts-martial, he has been visiting it from time to time to make sure it is cared for while Jack cannot do so. He regrets not having made more determined efforts to keep in touch. Wonders where he is now. What he's doing. Hopes he is ok.

There are three or four inches of snow on the ground and the light is fading from the sky when he arrives. He is puzzled by the lumpy snow-covered shape sprawled across the grave. Scrapes away some of the snow. Recognizes the matted silver-grey hair, now soaked with the snow.

What is the down-and-out guy doing on Charlie's grave? Suddenly all the dots connect.

"Jack!" The exclamation is barely audible. Eyes open. Soft familiar brown eyes.

"Daniel?" The response is whispered too. He hasn't the energy for more.

Daniel flips open his cell and calls 911.

"Don't bother," O'Neill murmurs.

Daniel ignores the request. Order? That hasn't changed. He settles down in the snow and pulls his team mate - his friend - into his arms.

"I should've tried harder," he says sadly. "You were so strong. Deserve so much better..."

O'Neill's eyes close on a sigh. Daniel watches him breathing for the last time. Silent tears course down his cheeks. He determines that O'Neill will have proper burial obsequies.

In her small single-bedroomed apartment in Cleveland, a news item from Colorado Springs claims Captain Carter's attention. It is the funeral of one, Jonathan O'Neill, aged fifty-seven. A vet. And a hero. The newsreader says that all information about him is classified.

"But he was clearly an exceptional guy if the turn-out at the funeral is anything to go by. The church is packed out and there is screen outside for the overflow. Jonathan O'Neill had been living rough for some time. On Friday, he was found dying in the snow on his son's grave by a long lost friend who was in the neighborhood. That friend, Dr. Daniel Jackson, arranged and paid for this hero's funeral."

They are all there, her one-time closest friend Dr. Janet Fraiser, Sergeant Siler, the ever-faithful Walter Davis pushing General Hammond in a wheelchair, even Colonel Paul Davis from the Pentagon. No one has thought to contact her. Or maybe someone did? And immediately dismissed that thought? Why wouldn't he? Or she? After what she said at their courts-martial? And what he said?

"And you call this love? At least I never made any such pretence."

It was true. He hadn't. They'd never even kissed. That should have told her...

Now she understands. She never really loved him either. It was all just a wonderful fantasy woven around a handsome and charismatic leader, with her imagination filling in the blanks.

He was a good man. One of the best. And she has destroyed him utterly. As surely as if she'd been a goa'uld. Suddenly she hates herself.

She resigns from N.A.S.A. and takes on a low-paid job in a homeless shelter in Cleveland. It is the only way she can live with herself now. She is a caring and dedicated worker. Paying her debt to the past.

Fizz... Ting!


Crown Infernal