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!
|
