Stockholm Syndrome

Author: Geonn

Email: neil_j_miser@yahoo.com

Rating: NC17

Pairings: Sam/Janet, Janet/Other

Category: Action, Drama, Angst

Disclaimer: These folks don't belong to me. I stole them from MGM's toybox without asking their mommies for permission. I promise to return them more or less unscathed.

Spoilers: "The Curse," "Serpent's Venom," "Forever In a Day,"

Archive: Yes, just let me know where it'll be.

Notes: This fic is dedicated to Lynne Knowlton. Not only is she a a local girl (to me, anyway), but she gave me the idea for this story. She provided priceless feedback during it's production and helped me polish it to a fine, glistening finish. This story is hers... she was just kind enough to let me compose it and slap my name next to 'Author'.

Summary: At the end of "The Curse," Janet is taken hostage by Osiris and imprisoned on a dead world.

Special Thanks to Hl for the banner.


Chapter One

Janet felt the weight of age press against her as she entered the tomb; a Goa'uld temple where human slaves had once been herded like cattle and forced to bow before an alien pretending to be a god. She remembered tours in high school of museums, how fascinated she had been by the ancient Egyptian displays. If only she had known then what she knew now... She pushed aside all thoughts of history as Sam moved out of the way and she spotted the body sprawled on the ground. Steven Rayner, judging by Daniel's reaction. Could this be over before it even started?

Sam knelt next to the man, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I'm not sensing anything... He's not a Goa'uld."

That was enough for the doctor in Janet to take over. Sam stepped out of the way as Janet knelt next to her patient, tenderly examining him before taking the chance of moving him. "He's bleeding internally," she reported, dropping her pack of supplies next to the man's still form. Steven cried out in pain and she soothed him. "Just take it easy, okay?" she said. "I need you to hold still."

"It's okay, she's a friend," Daniel explained.

As Janet tried to determine the severity of his injuries, Daniel was grilling him about the Osiris jar. The doctor paused, not considering that. If Steven wasn't the Goa'uld, then who was? And who had hurt him so badly? "Who did this to you?" Daniel had asked, sensing Janet's query. She suddenly felt the need to look over her shoulder. Unfortunately, their questions were quickly answered by the echoing voice of a Goa'uld.

"I did." The Goa'uld's voice was soft, almost melodic. Janet rose, seeing that Sam was doing the same as she turned to face their adversary. She was, Janet had to admit, one of the more attractive hosts she had seen. As she approached, she slipped her hood away from her face and unleashed a golden mane of brilliant curls that framed her face like an unholy halo. She glared at them with typical Goa'uld distaste. Daniel whipped out his tranq gun, firing off the dart he had pre-loaded. She waved it away like a mosquito, the red dart turning and dropping uselessly to the dirt.

Sam pulled her gun with the remarkable ease of a trained professional. Janet, who had received the same training, was frustrated when her gun was tangled in the tails of her shirt. She managed to extricate it and aim it at their enemy. Osiris attacked Sam first, spreading her fingers and sending Sam hurtling towards the back wall of the temple with sickening speed. Sam hit the stone wall, crying out in pain as her body crumpled. Janet made the mistake of watching her lover's attack and was unprepared when Osiris turned to her. The Goa'uld device on her hand lit again, sending another wave towards Janet.

The doctor was picked up like a toy in a tornado, her body tearing through the air with the greatest of ease. She felt her stomach drop as it always did on roller coasters, but this ride was much more dangerous. She hit the wall, a bit surprised that the impact wasn't as bad as she had expected. She pushed herself up, amazed to still be conscious, then looked over her shoulder. Sam had used her body to block the doctor's impact, causing her own body to be slammed into the wall instead. Janet touched her lover's face, tenderly probing the cut at the top of Sam's forehead. Janet winced, wishing she had time to tend to the wound. Knowing what was at stake, she left Sam's side and picked up her gun.

She rose into a crouch, her head throbbing. She felt a stab of pain in her back as she stood, skirting the edge of the altar and keeping out of sight until she could make an assessment of the situation. As she moved, the pain in her back increased, a dagger of pressure spreading from the middle of her spine and reaching towards her skull. It was hard to concentrate, but she managed to tighten her grip around her pistol. She rose unsteadily to her feet, leaning against the altar and watching Daniel confront Osiris on his own. Janet looked to her right, seeing Sam was still sprawled out on the sand, blood trickling down her temple. 'God, Sam!' It took all of her will not to dash back to her lover's side. But there were bigger problems at hand.

Osiris had activated her hand device, the orange glow burning into Daniel's forehead. She could see, even from this distance, the sweat beading on his upper lip. He was struggling with his pocket, attempting to retrieve another dart, but his motions were too loose to be any good. Janet winced as Osiris pressed her palm closer to Daniel's face, the glow intensifying. 'He probably won't be good for any Scrabble games in the next couple of weeks,' Janet thought, trying to keep herself from panicking, 'but he's got a thick skull.'

She raised the gun, trying to remember the targets at the range. 'Visualize... gently squeeze...' The gun exploded in her hand, the kickback lifting her arms and hurting her shoulders. She squeezed off a second shot before she could even think or aim. It didn't hurt as bad that time, she decided. When she lowered her weapon, she saw that Daniel had collapsed. For a brief, terrifying moment, she thought maybe she had hit her friend instead of the target. She turned her gaze to Osiris and saw two misshapen circles of blood blossoming on the front of her pristine white gown. Daniel had fallen because Osiris had released him after being shot.

Janet momentarily allowed herself to celebrate, then realized that Daniel was unconscious and Sam had just been slammed - twice - into a stone wall. She was alone against a seriously pissed-off Goa'uld. From where Osiris had left him, Daniel limply grasped for the feather of the dart he had dropped earlier. Janet's hand shook as she kept the gun steady, forcing herself to look fiercer than she felt. "Stop right where you are," she demanded. She'd never been up against an actual Goa'uld before... The only one she'd had physical contact with was Apophis, and he had hardly been a threat at the time. The Goa'uld didn't obey her order and Janet forced herself to pull the trigger again.

This time, the shot went wild. The bullet missed Osiris completely, chipping a bit of plaster from an ancient pillar near the entryway. The projectile sent a cloud of harmless dust into the air and left Osiris unscathed. The golden-haired host closed the distance between them, lashing out and locking incredibly powerful fingers around Janet's throat. The Goa'uld's thumb pressured against Janet's carotid. Osiris pulled the brunette forward, their faces inches apart. Janet could smell the other woman's breath: spearmint. The Goa'uld, contrary to belief, did chew gum. "Insolent... bitch," the once-powerful Goa'uld hissed, pain tinging her speech.

Janet allowed herself a minor victory over that. 'I hurt her,' she thought.

"Let... Her... Go."

Osiris spun, adjusting her hold on the brunette so that she was now a shield. Janet felt the woman's fingers digging into her neck, five slender pincers all attempting to leave their mark in her skin. The pressure was mostly on her carotid and jugular vein. With just the right amount of pressure, no great feat to someone as powerful as a Goa'uld, Janet would be a vegetable for the rest of her life. She didn't dare fight against her captor. Sam was on her feet, a bit unsteady, but standing nonetheless. She swallowed, ignoring the blood that covered the side of her face and was now staining the collar of her t-shirt. 'My hero,' Janet thought, forcing a smile through the pain. "Just let her go," Sam said, her voice firm. Only Janet could detect the slight waver below the order.

"I will not," Osiris hissed, turning so she had both Daniel and Sam in her line of sight. "I will activate the rings to my ship and I shall take my leave of you. You will allow me to leave or she will die."

"No," Sam said. Her voice was now obviously shaky.

Osiris tightened her grip and Janet gasped, her breath caught in her throat. "My life or hers. Make your decision." The Goa'uld now sounded noticeably pained, the two slugs of lead in her gut obviously not agreeing with her. Janet could feel the warm wetness of Sarah Gardner's blood spreading over her shirt from behind; Osiris was bleeding badly. Slowly, the two women made their way to the control panel. Daniel was kneeling, still recovering from his bout with the hand device. She could see the tears in his eyes and knew how helpless he felt.

"It's okay, Daniel," she croaked. "Not your fault..."

Sam moved forward, making sure she stayed a safe distance from her adversary. "Let her go, you bitch. So help me, if you hurt her..."

Osiris used her free hand to press the correct combination into the activation panel. Using her distraction, Daniel raised his tranquilizer gun and fired. The red-feather whizzed past Janet's ear, lodging solidly in Osiris' throat. She gasped, but only tightened her grip on Janet's throat. Her free hand swung forward once again, this time with the fingers splayed. A wave of power exploded outward and caught Sam in it's crest. The blonde was thrown back, hitting the wall with a third sickening crack. Janet's eyes widened as she watched her lover crumple to the ground.

Turning to Daniel, Osiris weakly said, "The blonde shall die if you attempt to halt me again, as will my prisoner."

She pushed Janet forward, still using her as a shield. When they reached the pack, Osiris said, "Pick it up."

'Oh, God, she's taking me with her...'

"The pack," Osiris growled. "Pick it up."

Janet reluctantly complied, picking up the heavy rucksack with one arm, conscious of the fingers still pressing painfully into her throat. Once Janet had the pack, Osiris relaxed her grip slightly and pressed her hand against her gauntlet. "Make no mistake," she hissed through her pain, leaning on Janet now. "Osiris will return... and the rivers of the Earth will run red with blood." The rings suddenly exploded around them, Janet view of the temple now seen through five horizontal slats. There was a bright flash of light and suddenly, she was gone.

Janet was a prisoner of war.

---

Osiris collapsed immediately upon arriving on her ship, moaning loudly as she gripped her stomach.

Janet moved quickly to the ring controls, slapping them open. 'Just in case, I want you to know how to use them,' Sam had said. She exhaled slowly and whispered, "Thank you, baby. I'll never complain about your teaching sessions ever again." She hit the right combination and rushed back to the transport ring. Osiris was writhing in pain on the floor, blood beginning to drip onto the ground around her. Nothing was happening; the rings remained stationary.

"Damn it," she hissed, rushing back to the panel. She gazed at the buttons, tried to make sense of the Goa'uld commands scribbled within the panel, but couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"It is no use," Osiris gasped painfully. "We are no longer in range."

Janet turned, glaring at her captor. "How can we be out of range? Who is flying this thing?"

Muttering painfully, Osiris rolled onto her back. "I had a long wait for Steven Rayner in the temple. I p-programmed this ship to enter hyperspace immediately upon my return." She closed her eyes. "See for yourself... in the m-main room. But hurry."

Janet turned, the doors sliding open and allowing her passage. Sure enough, the main screen indicated they were in hyperspace. "No," Janet whispered. "No, please... no..."

"I am in need of your assistance!" Osiris called.

Turning, Janet returned to the doorway of the transport room. She watched Osiris from a distance, as if she were an exhibit in some cruel and exotic zoo. "Why the hell would I assist you? I'll gladly watch you die. One less Goa'uld in the universe."

Osiris coughed, her face wrinkling in pain as she held her stomach. "True. However... you have no idea how to take this ship out of hyperspace. What do you propose to do? Wait until it runs out of fuel? You are in for a long wait. And then you will be stranded. You have no choice but to help me."

The damned Goa'uld had a point. Janet grit her teeth and moved to the pack, unzipping one of the many pouches and pulling out the supplies she would need. As she gathered her supplies, she glanced at the woman growing pale a few feet away. "What about your symbiote? Why can't it heal you?"

"Thousands of year in hibernation tends to make one... very weak. It is also attempting to battle the poison Daniel Jackson injected me with." She rolled her head to one side, squeezing her eyes shut. "The pain... is excruciating..."

"Good," Janet muttered, picking up her supplies and carrying them to Osiris' side. "We need to make a deal."

"Insufferable human," Osiris muttered.

"I heal you, you send me home. No tricks, no games, no schemes. Just repaying me for putting you back together." 'Sworn to destroy the Goa'uld and here you are trying to heal one. Some doctor.' She bit back her anger and placed Osiris' hands near the wounds. "Press down here. HARD. It'll slow the blood loss." She turned and withdrew a small knife from the field pack. She unwrapped a sterile pad and wiped the blade thoroughly with it.

Osiris gasped, "Do you not want my promise to release you?"

"A Goa'uld promise? Yeah," she scoffed. "That's the deal. Take it or leave it. No promises." She used the knife to cut open Osiris' gown, peeling the bits of cloth away from the woman's injuries. "This is going to hurt," she warned. "A lot." Warning given, Janet proceeded to extract the lead slugs from her enemy's flesh. The screams nearly deafened her in the small room.

---

Hammond grabbed the phone as soon as it began ringing, expecting a report from either Major Carter or Dr. Fraiser. "This is Hammond," he said, putting away the file he'd been working on.

"Sir," Sam managed, apparently out of breath. "Sir, we have a problem."

"Major? What's going on? Where's Dr. Jackson?"

She took a deep breath, turning and resting against the bed in her hotel room. She had run all the way from the garage to give Hammond the news. "Asleep," she said. "He got hit by a hand device... pretty bad headache. But that's not the bad news, General. Daniel was wrong; Steven Rayner wasn't the Goa'uld. Osiris took over Sarah Gardner." She swallowed, closing her eyes. She didn't want to reveal the next bit of information, as if somehow saying the words would make it real. "Osiris... took Janet, Sir. She's been abducted."

"What?!"

"She... He... it... The Goa'uld had a ship waiting. It grabbed her and managed to get out of range before I could activate the rings to save her." She felt her eyes beginning to water. "I couldn't save her," she croaked, hanging her head.

Hammond took a moment to absorb this bit of news. The team had lost a battle; that's something that didn't happen often. Not only that, one of their own had been taken hostage. "I want you back here ASAP, Major. We'll get Dr. Fraiser back, you can count on that." He waited a moment, then asked, "Are you all right, Sam?"

Calling her by name was a subtle clue that this wasn't her CO talking; it was the man who had hung around her house in Air Force blues during her childhood. It was the friendly captain who had lifted her to his shoulders and zoomed her around the backyard to show her what it was like to fly. It was the man who she had gone to when she ran away from home. She brushed her face. "I'm fine. I'll... be fine."

"Get here as soon as you can, Major." Back to business. "We'll find a way to get Dr. Fraiser back."

---

Osiris lashed out, her hand gripping Janet's hair and pulling the petite woman forward. Janet stared into the bloodshot green eyes and noticed the sheen of sweat covering the other woman's face. As Osiris huffed and puffed, her gum-breath long gone and replaced by an inhuman stench, Janet tried to remain calm. The screaming had nearly deafened Janet, fraying her nerves and making her jumpy. She blinked, trying to avoid eye contact with the other woman. Finally, the Goa'uld managed to ask, "Are you... almost finished?"

Janet reached up, wrapping her fingers around Osiris' wrist and easing the other woman's fingers out of her hair. "Nearly," she reported. "I have to tie off these stitches. Stop screaming for five seconds and it'll be finished."

Osiris collapsed back onto the floor, eyes squeezed shut. Damned symbiote, she thought, feeling the snake writhing inside of her. Focusing on its own injuries, trying to protect itself from the dissipating poison. The pain was unbearable, but she knew it would ease once the doctor had finished. "No leeches," she whispered.

Frowning, Janet placed a bandage over one of the jagged lines in Osiris' stomach. "What?"

"No leeches," she repeated. "Healers and apothecaries once employed leeches in their healing practices. I loathed them."

Janet allowed herself the slightest of smiles. "Goa'uld disliking leeches? I would've thought you two would've gone together like milk and cookies. Birds of a feather, and all that."

Osiris grimaced, but said nothing.

"All better," Janet reported, rising to her feet. She had felt the ship leave hyperspace automatically a few minutes ago. The only question that remained was where they were. "Now. Turn this ship around."

The Goa'uld rose painfully to her feet, touching the bandages that now protected her weak flesh. "I thank you, Janet Fraiser. But I am not well."

"What?"

"The poison with which I was infected, combined with the long slumber from which my symbiote has recently been awakened from... I am more weak than I believed." She stumbled out of the ring room, moving towards the control center of the ship. She swallowed painfully, activating a screen that showed several of the schematics of their ship. "This world has been abandoned for ages," she reported. "It will do nicely for my purposes." She thought for a moment, then looked at Janet over her shoulder. "Tell me something. I know the Tau'ri have apparently forgotten the Goa'uld, but what of the rest of the universe? Is there no one alive to worship my kind?"

"Very few," Janet said, her lips turning upward. "We're working with the Asgard to lessen the numbers."

"Asgard? Those blue bastards are still making trouble?" She punched in a code and then turned, hand instinctually moving towards the bandages. "You shall accompany me to the planet. There, you shall assist my healing process. I assure you, it will not be long before I return you to your people."

Janet grit her teeth, balling her hands into fists and tapping them against her thigh. "I guess I have no choice, do I?"

"No," Osiris said simply, moving past Janet to the rings. "You do not."

Looking at the blood on the floor, Janet wondered if she had made a mistake saving Osiris.


Chapter Two,

The world had once been called Nizana, a lush and tropical world where Osiris and Isis had spent much of their time. The natives had feared and worshipped their oft-present rulers, leaving gifts at the doors to the temple. In their absence, however, the villagers had started losing faith. Neither of their so-called gods had made an appearance in centuries. Prayers went unanswered. Soon, sects began to form. Unbelieving villagers had stormed the abandoned temple, quickly putting down the resistance put up by those still faithful to Osiris. The believers thought that the long disappearance was simply a test and that attacking the temple would bring nothing but bad tidings. Civil war erupted, faithful versus skeptics.

It was never recorded what had ended the war, or even who was victorious. Cities had been destroyed, buildings rendered uninhabitable and abandoned. The few natives who had survived knocked over the Stargate, burying it in a final show of rebellion against the 'gods' who had left them.

This was the world Janet and Osiris came to, thousands of years after the last fatality in the war. They ringed directly to the temple, arriving in a dark and musty room. Janet coughed, realizing she and Osiris were the first people to step foot in this room in a very long time. She finally understood how Daniel felt when he discovered a sealed tomb or an ancient temple; anything could lay beyond the door. Any limit of wonders... and an unimaginable amount of dangers. Osiris stood firm, her skin still slightly pale as she approached the door.

The mechanisms of the door groaned loudly as it slid out of it's position, stalling with about two inches left to go. Osiris stepped into the hall, apparently expecting Janet to follow. The doctor didn't have much choice; it wasn't like there was anyplace to run to. She stepped into the hallway and looked for Osiris' flowing robes. There was no sign of the Goa'uld.

'This is not good,' Janet thought, checking the closest doorways for hints as to where Osiris might've gotten to. The doctor in Janet was worried; Osiris had been far from healthy on the ship. Now she had wandered off into a labyrinth of a palace to... to what? To lick her wounds? However, the prisoner in Janet was relieved that the Goa'uld had vanished, apparently believing that it would be redundant to restrain a prisoner on a dead world. After a moment by herself in the hallway, Janet decided that if Osiris wanted to be alone, Osiris could be alone. She turned and started walking in the opposite direction, trying not to think of the fact that her sole chance of getting home could be dying somewhere in the palace.

The first room she found was dark as night. Out of habit, her right hand swept the wall in search of a light switch. She mentally kicked herself, then began to slowly cross the room in search of some kind of light source. She gasped when she ran into a gauzy film, half-expecting to find that she had been ensnared in a giant alien spider web. After the panic ebbed, she realized it was simply an ancient curtain. She pulled the filmy material away from her face, pushing it aside and letting the sun sweep into the room. "Wow," she whispered, eyeing the tropical landscape that spread out in front of the temple.

Osiris' temple had been built on a hill that overlooked a sprawling city on par with Earth's current technology. Now, of course, the city was simply a group of dilapidated buildings sticking out of a canopy of trees. The windows of the buildings stood empty, gaping wounds that remained as evidence of the war that had been fought. She could make out movement within the buildings, scavengers on their way to the next kill, more than likely. Janet stepped away from the window, the new light revealing that the entire wall was covered with curtains. She pulled each one of them open, in some cases pulling the aged material completely off the rod. When she finished, she turned to examine the room - and gasped.

A tall, pale man stood a few feet away from her, his eyes glaring angrily down at her. He had to be at least ten feet tall, every muscle perfectly still as he stood poised to attack. In one hand, he held a staff weapon. The other was stretched towards her, fingers splayed. He was brandishing a hand device, murder evident in his eyes. Janet choked back a scream, stepping backwards as she tried to think of a way to escape.

Escape, however, was unnecessary. After her momentary shock, she realized that her 'companion' was actually a statue. It would have been visible to the denizens of the town through the windows of the temple, thus giving the image that their god was constantly on watch, ready to strike them down if needed. Panic eased, Janet examined the rest of the statue. She assumed this was one of Osiris' previous hosts, sculpted with a certain degree of creative license. Janet arched her eyebrow when she saw the... proportions... given to a certain part of the Goa'uld's anatomy. 'Creative license, indeed,' she thought, turning away from the sculpture, eyeing the ghost town once more.

"There you are."

Janet rolled her eyes and turned. Osiris had entered the room, her white robes gone and replaced with a powder-blue gown. Her skin was deathly pale, dark rings encircling her eyes. The woman looked a bit healthier than she had on the ship; her skin was no longer gleaming with sweat and she wasn't hunched over any more. That was good... maybe. Osiris moved to the statue, carefully touching one bicep. Her fingers stroked the stone skin, a smile playing on her lips. "It is... interesting. Now that I reside within a female host, I find myself attracted to the male of the species. But I still long for the taste of a woman." Janet closed her eyes. She had better things to do than listening to a Goa'uld pontificate on bisexuality.

Osiris left the statue and moved to Janet's side. The doctor noticed Osiris was breathing heavily a spot of blood visible on the corner of her mouth. "Pathetic," she whispered, looking over the destroyed domain. She brushed the blood away from her lip, glancing down at it before she spoke again. One of my last remaining acolytes left me reports concerning the uprising. My people began to lose faith and spawned a war. They destroyed themselves rather than believe in my power." She turned. "How do you believe that bodes for your race?"

"Humans are not killing themselves over religious squabbles," she said, her voice low. 'Not *all* of us, anyway.' She sighed. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"Until the poison has been purged from my system and I am no longer in need of your talents."

Janet gritted her teeth, balling her hands into fists. As much as she loathed to admit it, the Goa'uld was incredibly lucky to be alive. The symbiote wouldn't have let a host get so far gone. "And how long should that take?"

"It will take as long as it takes."

"And we're here because..."

"This world is abandoned. It has been since before Isis and I were banished on Earth. I need a secure place to heal; where potential enemies will not see my weakness and will not attempt to exploit it. Once I am healthy again, I shall begin gathering forces to regain my power and claim my seat as a System Lord again."

Biting back an angry retort, Janet turned and examined the statue once more. Osiris turned as well, following Janet's line of sight. "Would you be more complacent had I taken a host like this?" she asked, indicating the marble figure. "Would you have preferred to be prisoner to someone in the form of Steven Rayner?"

Janet ignored the questions, heading back for the hallway.

"I do not wish for us to be adversaries, Janet Fraiser. Quite the contrary. I wish to be... allies."

The doctor paused in the door, trying to find the right thing to say. She searched for the perfect comeback, but came up empty. It was so easy for all those action stars; all those people in the movies and on TV always had the perfect, witty comeback to hurl at the bad guy. Instead, she meekly said, "Come find me if you feel nauseated." 'I know I feel nauseated enough for the both of us,' she added mentally. She stormed out of the room, hoping the Goa'uld wouldn't follow her.

---

"She was weak, but she activated the rings and took Janet up to the ship with her." Sam looked down at the black surface of the briefing room table. "And that was it, Sir. We were unable to make visual confirmation of the ship leaving the atmosphere; it was already moving too fast."

Hammond nodded. "Anything to add, Dr. Jackson?" Daniel shook his head. "Very well. You're both dismissed; SG-1 is on downtime until further notice."

Daniel and Sam stood as Hammond headed for his office. Sam stopped him short. "Sir? When... when will the rescue team depart?"

"Rescue team?"

"For Janet, Sir. I'd like to volunteer if you aren't planning to send SG-1..."

Hammond frowned. "Major... Osiris has been out of commission for a very long time. All of his strongholds are probably gone or taken over by someone else. If we were to assign a rescue team, I wouldn't have the faintest idea of where to start looking. Would you?"

Sam closed her eyes. "No." She quickly added, "Sir. No, Sir."

"Then I'm sorry," Hammond sighed. "But I'll have to declare Dr. Fraiser missing-in-action."

The words were like a sledgehammer to Sam's chest. She fell into her chair, gazing blindly at the wall ahead of her, trying to comprehend what the General had just said. After a while, she was aware of Daniel speaking to her, but his words were muffled. She pushed herself to her feet and moved toward the stairs, muttering a quick apology to Daniel as she swept out of the room.

---

'God, what a nightmare,' Janet thought, rubbing her face as she struggled to wake up. 'Sam's never going to believe this one.' She sat up, kicking away the blankets and trying to find the switch to the lamp next to her bed. She frowned, unable to find the chain. She looked around, her mind slowly waking and revealing that her nightmare had been real. She sighed and rose off the bed, thanking whoever had raided the temple for leaving certain creature comforts behind. The room in which she'd found the bed had no windows, but there were two braziers in the corner.

She used two sticks she'd found (if there's one thing the planet wasn't lacking, it was tree and plantlife) to light the embers resting in the wide, metal plates. A soft glow filled the bedroom and she looked around, wondering how long this would serve as her bedroom. She couldn't go anywhere without Osiris. The Stargate was, according to reports left behind, buried in an unknown location to prevent the return of false gods. 'Good move, but it leaves me up shit creek,' Janet thought, taking an inventory of her temporary quarters.

A tall armoire stood in the corner, one of the doors hanging off the hinges and revealing an assortment of gowns and robes. The bed stood in the center of the room, the once-beautiful linens faded and smelling of age. Sniffing her shirt, Janet discovered that the smell had transferred itself to her during her nap. The only other furniture in the room was a massive desk and a stool that she doubted could hold her weight.

For a moment, she wondered where Osiris was. Then another thought struck her; something much more urgent than her captor's whereabouts. She turned, stepping into the hallway and looking both ways. 'Where the hell are the bathrooms in these places?' she wondered, moving quickly to the intersection of halls. No signs blantantly displaying the man/woman stick-figures that had become a universal language on Earth. 'Don't Goa'uld have bowel movements?' She turned and headed back towards her room, sticking her head into open doors as she went. No sign of a toilet. She saw dozens upon dozens of empty, useless rooms, but nothing for something as basic as what she needed.

Finally, she found a large window and scrambled out. 'It's good enough when I'm camping, it'll have to do while I'm a prisoner.' She slipped carefully down the incline, hoping the leaves assaulting her face weren't poison ivy. At the bottom of the hill, she found a wide stream that meandered lazily through the trees. She followed the muddy banks for a while, eventually chosing a spot that was out of sight of the temple. She undid her belt buckle and dropped trou, assuming the position. As she waited for nature to take it's course, she listened to the sounds surrounding her. 'And I thought Yellowstone was tranquil,' she thought, struggling to hear anything besides birds or the babbling brook (the latter sound was actually helping her finish her business).

No telephone wires, no pollution in the air, no chance of anyone accidentally stumbling upon her, only one other soul for miles. 'I finally find the perfect getaway spot and I can't enjoy it. Sam would love this place.'

The brush on the opposite side of the bank shifted, the result of something brushing against it from behind. She froze, watching as a creature moved out from behind the bushes and eased itself into the water. The cat didn't bare it's fangs or growl, but simply stared at her through vibrant green eyes. The alien feline was indistinguishable from a cougar or a jaguar. It's flesh was a lustrous silver color, muscles flexing visibly beneath the skin. She froze, watching the cat as it came out of the water and sauntered lazily past her. Their eyes never lost contact; the animal seemed slightly annoyed by this intruder. Annoyed, nothing more. It snorted, curling it's lip in her direction before sliding into another bush. With a swish of it's tail, the animal was gone. She exhaled sharply, careful not to fall out of her squat. "Sorry, Mr. Cat," she whispered. "If I'd known this was your living room, I wouldn't have violated it like this..."

When she was finished with her business, she grabbed a leaf off a nearby tree and rubbed it with her fingertips. 'Doesn't *feel* like poison ivy, but how can I really be certain? Do I really want to spend my imprisonment with a rash in that particular part of my anatomy?' Finally, she decided to take her chances and used the leaves, hitching her pants back up and looking around. 'Odds are, the Stargate was in a major city. It's too heavy to be moved very far, so all I'd have to do is look for empty fields, near towns where someone could have buried the Gate. How hard could that be?'

Of course, the actual act of unburying the Stargate, standing it and securing it in an upright position was probably more than one person could handle. She exhaled slowly and reluctantly headed back up to the temple.

---

"Earth angel, Earth angel, won't you be mine?"

Cassandra stood in the back corner of the risers, her voice purposely lower than Cynthia's. The other girl could drown out anyone else she wanted, and Cassie was grateful for the buffer. She hated choir class, a painful hour that was required in order to receive the amount of credits needed to graduate. Until then, it was "Earth Angel" and "At the Hop" and "Greased Lightning." She sighed loudly, continuing with the song that she remembered hearing on one of her mother's favorite movies. 'At least Michael J. Fox made it interesting,' she thought, turning her eyes towards the door of the music room.

An office aide strode in, his hand filled with pink notices. Most of them were 'See The Principal' slips, but a few were for telephone messages. Cassandra crossed the fingers of her left hand - a good luck symbol Sam had taught her - and hoped one was for her.

"Earth angel, Earth angel, the one I adore," Cassie continued, her mind no longer focused on the lyrics of the song.

The aide approached the teacher, Ms. Shepler, and handed her a slip before leaving the room once again. Shepler looked at the note, then scanned the rows. 'Please be me, please be me,' Cassie thought as she continued to sing flatly. Shepler finally found who she was looking for. "Cassandra." She extended the note.

'Yes!' Cassie jumped off the bleachers, heading to the teacher's podium. "Me?" she asked, as if she didn't want to go.

"Don't take too long," Shepler said, turning her attention back to the rest of the class. Cassandra looked at the note as she headed for the door. 'Meet Sam in hall.' She frowned. What was this all about? Sam was with Daniel and Mom in Egypt, wasn't she? Tucking the note in her back pocket, she pushed open the heavy door and looked outside.

Sam was standing next to the water fountain, wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a red sweater. She noticed a small bandage on the Major's temple, nearly hidden by a well-placed lock of blonde hair. "Sam!" Cassie said, hurrying the blonde's side and ensnaring her in a tight hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I'm here to pick you up, kiddo."

Cassie chuckled. "You're about four hours early. I have lunch after this."

"I signed you out for the rest of the day. You got your stuff?"

"Um, it's in the classroom. Why are you takin' me out of school?"

Sam forced a smile. "Just, uh... get your bag. I'll explain it over lunch."

A chill slid down Cassie's spine. "It's Mom, isn't it?"

"Lunch, Cass. Go get your stuff, please."

Cassandra turned, heading back into the class. Judging by the looks she got from her friends, the news had taken a physical effect on her. She knew her face was probably pale, her eyes bugged out. She picked up her bookbag, waved good-bye to Cynthia, and hurried back to meet Sam.

---

Janet returned to the temple, climbing in through the same window she had used to exit. The corridors remained silent, nothing to indicate there was finally someone occupying the dilapidated structure. She started to return to her room, wondering idly where Osiris could be. The temple, though large in comparison to most Earth structures, wasn't as massive as some buildings she'd seen. Besides, being the only other person on this world, certainly any noise the Goa'uld made would carry. Janet paused, turning and listening carefully for any indication that she still had company. Nothing.

"Osiris?" she called, listening to the echo of her voice. It was creepy, knowing there might only be one other person on the planet and that person was currently missing. Janet felt her heart pounding against her chest, her lungs struggling to capture as much air as possible. 'I can't be stranded,' she thought, panic starting to cloud her judgement. 'I just can't be alone...'

Janet frantically searched, finding only corridor after corridor of empty rooms, knocking over destroyed offerings meant to appease the past rulers, breathing in mountains of dust and stumbling over rubble left behind from the rebellion that had stormed the temple gates. Outside, night had fallen, drastically limiting her visibility in the unlit temple. 'If I have to be in this godforsaken place by myself at night, I'll kill myself,' she promised, pushing open a heavy stone door.

She found herself in a long hallway, tall pillars rising from the marble floor and disappearing into shadows above her head. 'I have to explore a Goa'uld temple when I'm not a prisoner,' a detached part of her mind decided. 'Gorgeous architecture...' At the end of the corridor, the path branched in two different directions. She picked the one leading to her right and followed it. 'Might as well get lost in this place if I'm alone anyway...'

She entered a large oval room and discovered that she wasn't alone. Osiris was sprawled on the stone floor, her arms caught beneath her body as if she had tried to stop her fall. Janet rushed to the woman's side, turning her onto her back. Goa'uld or not, kidnapper or not, the woman was still a patient in Janet's care. She'd left the woman alone and now... now there was a good chance she might die. She lightly slapped Sarah's cheek, lifting up her eyelid and wishing she had a penlight. The white was predominately visible, the green of the iris rolled upward. "Damn," Janet hissed. 'I shouldn't have ignored her symptoms like that, no matter how I feel about the Goa'uld...' She tapped the woman's cheek. "Sarah? C'mon, Sarah, you have to wake up."

The blonde woman blinked, her eyes swimming as she attempted to focus. "Wuh... where..."

"Don't try to talk," Janet ordered, noticing that the voice wasn't the harsh growl the Goa'uld employed. She was speaking to the host. "Sarah, do you remember what happened?"

"I... opened the... Osiris Jar."

Janet nodded, looking around for any possible emergency equipment. "How about the fall? Do you remember falling?"

"I remember," Osiris replied. The Goa'uld's voice startled Janet, even though it was just as weak as Sarah's had been. "I was attempting to... survey the damage done to my temple."

"How long ago was this?"

Osiris closed her eyes, wincing in pain. "It was... daylight."

Janet touched the other woman's forehead. "You're burning up. The combination of the poison and your wounds must've weakened you more than I thought." With the Goa'uld focused on combating the poison and Janet's less-than-perfect stitching on the wounds, there was almost no doubt what had happened. "Your immune system was weakened. I think you might have caught a... a local flu."

"The people of the village complained of Brain Fire. It is a... debilitating illness, but it seldom proved fatal. I shall be well within a few days time."

Janet inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't know what she would've done if it had been something fatal. 'Oh, darn. Hey, since you're dying anyway, would you mind swinging back by Earth and dropping me off? Thanks a ton.' She sighed and examined Sarah's body. There were no other injuries besides the bruises on her knees where she had fallen. There was also a sizable knot on her forehead. "Can you walk?"

"I... believe so." She pushed herself up, grunting with effort as she rose into a crouch... then collapsed back to the floor.

Janet caught her before she landed face-down once more. "Easy... I'll be your crutch, okay?" She slipped her arm around Osiris' waist and helped the woman to her feet. "You okay? You can stand?"

Osiris nodded. She leaned on Janet, allowing the smaller woman to assist her.

---

Braum's Ice Cream had been the location of Cassandra's first birthday party on Earth. No one from the base had been invited; they had celebrated in an all-encompassing party at the O'Neill household. The only people present for this intimate affair had been Sam, Janet and the guest of honor. As it had been ever since. Braum's had also been the location where a lot of special events had occured. The corner booth was where Sam had said 'I love you' for the first time. The ballpit had been where Janet had snuck their first kiss. It was where Cassandra had gotten her first ice cream headache, where Janet had told Cassie about Sam's risky mission to Netu and where Sam and Janet had finally revealed the nature of their relationship to the young girl.

The news she had today, however, was one of the worst things Sam could ever remember announcing over ice cream.

For a long time after the bomb had been dropped, Cassandra had stared into the off-white sludge that had once been an ice-cream sundae. The cherries had been picked out and were resting in a napkin between the two women. The rule of the family was whoever finished first got their pick of the cherries. Now, they were both done, but neither was reaching for the prize. They both knew how much Janet liked to be the one who got the biggest and best cherry. Sam's hands were folding in front of her, her blue eyes locked on Cassandra. Neither of them spoke, but the tension was palpatable. Several times, an overzealous worker had approached and asked if he could interest them in a burger or a shake. Each time, Sam had politely but firmly told him to get lost.

After a long, long silence, Cassie said, "The Goa'uld was hurt?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah, honey. She was hurt pretty bad."

"So... if the Goa'uld dies... how will Mom get home?"

Sam tensed. God. How *would* Janet get home if Osiris didn't survive? The doctor didn't know how to operate an al'kesh. She was at the mercy of the alien. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "She'll make it, Cassandra. It's just a matter of time."

Cassie nodded slowly, then said, "I guess I should be getting back to school."

"It's already the last class of the day. I think it'll be all right if you skip it."

The girl was already out of the booth. "I should go. Mom would be pretty pissed if she knew I missed the History test." She slung her denim backpack over her shoulder, heading out to the parking lot. Sam reluctantly followed, catching up with the girl halfway to the car. "Are you going to pick me up after class?"

"Um... sure. Cass... are you sure you understand what I just told you?"

The girl nodded, obviously impatient to get into the car. "Yeah. Mom got in trouble, but she'll get out. Can we *please* get to school? I don't wanna miss my class."

Sam used the remote entry to unlock the passenger door, watching as Cassandra climbed in. The girl was obviously in denial about Janet's situation. 'But,' Sam asked herself, 'is that good or bad? Should I let her believe everything's hunky-dory or force her to face the fact that Janet may not come home?' She had to choke back a sob at the second option. 'Let her believe what she wants,' Sam decided, pulling out of the parking lot. 'I just hope I can force myself to put on a happy face, too...'


Chapter Three,

With Osiris' help, Janet managed to find a large room that could only have been the master quarters. The remnants of a four-poster bed stood in the center of the room, transparent curtains draped over the tall oak uprights. Janet eased Osiris onto the mattress, helping the tall woman stretch out on the mattress. She took a moment to make a visual examination, determining there was nothing physically wrong with the patient, then said, "I'll be right back. I have to go get my supplies."

She rose away from the bed, only to be stopped by Osiris grabbing her wrist. She gasped, pulling slightly against the other woman's grip. Osiris looked up at her, weakly saying, "Do not be long, Janet Fraiser."

"I'll... try to hurry," Janet said, taken aback by the request.

She left the bedroom, retracing her steps to the room where she'd left her pack of supplies. 'I'm getting pretty good at finding my way through here. When I get home, I'll have to give the tech boys a rough draft of the blueprints.' She found the room and knelt by her pack, feeling blindly within the pockets as she wished for some sort of light. Of course, a light would probably attract any predators that were waiting in the woods. Predators were definitely not welcome at this party... she concluded that she had what she needed and sealed the bag once more, slinging it over her shoulders and heading out of the room.

As she passed one of the large windows, something in the woods caught her eye. She paused, leaning out of the window and making sure what she was seeing wasn't just a hallucination. Somewhere out in the woods - it was impossible to really tell the distance - there was a flickering light. Someone had built a fire. Certainly an animal wouldn't have-- no, that was ridiculous. Could there be some kind of sentient lifeform on this world? And if so, did that lifeform have a means to get her back to Earth?

She stepped away from the window, suddenly remembering the adage about 'the devil you know.' Osiris might seem like a kitten compared to what might lay out there... She turned away from the mysterious light and headed back to Osiris' bedside.

---

In the four years they'd known each other (and more ardently once they started sleeping together), Janet had tried desperately to teach Sam culinary skills. After much work, many trials and many, many burns, Sam was able to cook bacon and eggs without causing a major fire. That, however, was the extent of her cooking abilities. Instead of one of Janet's homemade dinners, Sam had been forced to drive to the supermarket and pick up several frozen TV dinners from Swanson, throwing one in the microwave when she got home.

"What's for dinner?" Cassie asked, still apparently unfazed by her mother's abduction.

Sam sighed, leaning against the counter and scanning the cardboard box for the cooking instructions. "Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and green beans. Apple cobbler dessert." Step-by-step instructions on how to make a complete dinner, right there on the box. Why couldn't they do that with chicken or hamburger?

Cassie simply nodded and went back to her math homework. Sam watched the girl calculate, then scribble something on her worksheet. 'There's a thin line between coping and full-on denial,' Sam thought, her fingers absently rubbing together. 'I just hope I'm doing the right thing by not forcing her to confront it.'

The microwave beeped and Sam turned, pulling the tray out of the heat. She peeled back the cellophane and poking the meat with her fingernail. Ice-cold. She tossed the tray back into the microwave and shut the door, leaning against the counter for support. 'Janet would've known how long to cook one of these things,' she chided herself. 'Hell, Janet wouldn't have had to cook one of these blocks of ice... Janet would've made a freakin' gourmet meal. But Janet's not here because you let her get...'

She bit off that thought before it could form, blinking back tears. 'It's just a TV dinner,' she told herself. 'Nothing to get upset about.' She brushed the wetness from her eyes, covering the move to make it look like she was simply brushing her hair out of her face. She turned, smiling at Cassie. "Hey, hon. What do you think about McDonald's for dinner?"

---

Janet dropped her pack next to Osiris bedside, wrinkling her nose at the smell that permeated the room. While she'd been gone, Osiris had thrown up and was now curled on her side clutching her stomach. Janet ignored the stink, touching the woman's shoulder and turning her onto her back again. The front of her blouse was stained with bits of the discharge, but most of it had landed in the sheets. What concerned Janet was the large stain of red where Osiris' stitches had been. "I'm going to have to take this off," Janet said, indicating the Goa'uld's gown. Osiris simply nodded.

Hooking her fingers in the shoulder straps, Janet lifted the material and slid it carefully down the other woman's torso. She forced herself to ignore the patient's nudity - Sarah Gardner had an amazing body - and focused on the injuries. The stitches had popped and the wounds were an ugly gash against her side. Janet tenderly touched the flesh near the tear, wincing when she heard Osiris' hiss of pain. "That... hurts," the Goa'uld reported.

"I'm sorry," Janet said, not really apologizing. "I have to restitch these."

"No," Osiris said. "It will heal eventually."

"Eventually," Janet sighed. "And all the while, you have an open wound that'll just attract infection like moths to a flame. Now, unless the Brain Fire was the only disease people got on this planet, I'm going to reclose these wounds and then bandage the hell out of 'em." She picked up her pack, opening one of the larger pockets and withdrawing a roll of gauze. As she prepared the needle for the stitches, she looked up at Osiris and said, "You... don't feel the need to throw anything else up, do you?"

"I do not believe so."

Janet looked skeptically at the Goa'uld's pale complexion. "Just in case you do," she pointed at the opposite side of the bed. "Aim it that way."

The Goa'uld almost smiled, then said, "I shall try."

Janet dipped the needle in alcohol, then licked her lips. "Again... this is going to hurt."

---

Sam flicked off the hallway light, making the rest of the journey to her bedroom in the darkness. She slid her fingertips along the wall as a guide, although she could've made the trip blindfolded and drunk. In fact, she *had* made it to the bedroom blindfolded and drunk on one occasion. She smiled at the memory as she entered the bedroom she shared with Janet, shedding the sweatpants she had been wearing most of the evening. She didn't bother with showering, reading or watching Letterman, choosing instead to slide under the blankets in her panties and a t-shirt.

Janet's side of the bed was eerily empty, the pillow glaring sightlessly at her in the darkness. If the doctor *had* been there, she probably would've been wearing those silly rabbit pajamas... she loved those pajamas. Sam recalled the night they had been in the process of making love when Janet had been wearing the bunny pjs. She had stopped Sam mid-kiss, gone to the hamper and carefully removed the shirt and pants, dropping them safely into the hamper before returning to the business at hand. Sam had laughed then, but now she could only muster a smile.

She had so many stories of Janet laughing... Janet telling a joke and then getting embarrassed by the racy punchline... Janet crying after the first time they'd made love... Blinking back tears, Sam slid her hand over the empty pillow as if she were stroking her lover's cheek. She knew what Janet would say had she been there...

'You should be sleeping, Sam.'

'How can I sleep knowing you're so close to me?'

'Is that a complaint?'

'No way... in fact, come a little closer....'

'If you keep that up, we'll *never* get any sleep.'

Sam closed her eyes, feeling the tears sliding over her cheek and running towards the tip of her nose. She brushed it away, sniffling quietly before rolling onto her other side. She stared out the window, the moon barely visible over the top of their neighbor's house. "Good night, Janet. I love you."

---

Osiris had fallen asleep soon after the 'operation' had been finished. The entire area around her wounds had been stitched, swabbed with alcohol and then bandaged tightly. That done, Janet had removed the soiled sheets and tossed them into a vacant room, wishing there was some way to actually clean the beddings rather than just letting it sit. She pulled a thin blanket over Osiris' body and collapsed into a chair, pulling her knees up to her chest and watching her captor sleep. 'Some POW,' she thought. 'Spend the night watching over my enemy, completely unrestrained.' She sighed and closed her eyes, intending to be asleep for just a second.

A second had turned into several minutes when Janet's body jerked, her eyes wide and searching. Was it possible? Could she have heard... "Sam? Are you here?" she whispered. She could've sworn she heard Sam say 'I love you.' She stood, walking to the window and peering out as if she thought Sam would be out there, perched below like a modern-day Cyrano. The forest was still and silent, the mystery flames from earlier extinguished. The moon hung low in the sky, a yellow giant compared to Earth's own. Janet smiled up at the moon, then whispered, "Good night, Sam. I love you, too."

She turned, heading back to her chair. As she settled back into her seat, she noticed that Osiris was awake and watching her. "Who is Sam?" the Goa'uld asked quietly.

"Go to sleep," Janet said, resting her head on her hand and closing her eyes.

---

"NOOO! STOP IT!"

Sam's entire body jerked, every muscle tensing as she was torn violently from her dream. Years of field missions, combined with countless training exercises had made her adept at being ready for battle at any given moment. Even if, at the given moment, you

were unarmed and wearing only panties and a Pooh Bear t-shirt. She grabbed a robe, wrapping it around herself as she slammed the door of her bedroom open. The moans and screams were louder now, obviously coming from the room down the hall. No need for a search; it was the only possible source of the commotion.

She burst into the room, stubbing her toe on an unfortunately placed desk chair as she entered, eyes wide and searching. She hit the light switch and the twin bulbs came on, showing her what was happening. Cassandra was laying on top of her bed, covers and sheets thrown across the room by flailing limbs. The girl herself was face down, her fists and toes digging into the mattress as if she were trying to avoid being lifted into the air. Her face was buried in the pillow, muffling her screams for the time being. "NOOOO! LEAVE ME ALONE!" she screamed, thrashing from side to side.

Sam grabbed both of Cassandra's shoulders, turning the girl so that she was on her back. When she continued to fight, Sam straddled the girl, using one hand to pin both of Cassie's arms above her head. Using her free hand, Sam lightly slapped the girl's cheeks. "Cassie? Cass, baby, wake up! It's just a nightmare!"

The girl's eyes flew open and darted around the room for a moment, trying to focus on the world outside of her dreamscape. She was gasping for breath, her struggling beginning to cease as she realized her surroundings were safe. Finally, she locked onto the face above hers, blinking sweat out of her eyes. "S-Sam?" she whispered.

The blonde climbed off of her daughter, putting a hand on Cassie's sweaty forehead. "It's me, baby. It was just a nightmare. You're okay, you're safe." But she couldn't help but wonder if that was true. Cassandra's night terrors had never been this bad, not even after her initial arrival from Hanka. "Is everything okay with you, sweetheart?"

Cassie pulled her blanket around herself, looking up at the ceiling. Her eyes were wet with tears, her nose running. Sam carefully wiped away the fluids, climbing onto the bed and wrapping her arms protectively around her daughter. "Come on... everything's all right. I'm right here."

After a moment, Cassie softly asked, "Why do the Goa'uld hate me?"

The question threw Sam for a loop. "What? What would make you say that?"

Cassandra shrugged. "First, they killed my real family. Then, they put a bomb in my chest. They're always trying to take you away from me and now they took Mom." She sniffed, turning her face away from Sam to hide her tears. "Why do they hate me so much?"

"They don't hate you, Cassie," Sam said softly. "They just... hate. They hate everything that's good and nice and wonderful in the universe. So, in that case... I suppose that says something really great about you, honey."

"Nice to know the bastards have such a high opinion of me," Cassandra sniffed.

Sam hid a smile. "Cassie... we don't use that word."

Cassie sighed and didn't argue, instead laying down once more and closing her eyes. "I don't know if I wanna go to sleep."

Sam stood, walking to the door and turning off the light. She returned to the bed then, climbing up next to Cassie and tucking the blankets around the girl's shoulders. "Would you mind if we kept each other company tonight? Just until your Mom gets back and makes everything right again?"

"I'd like that." Cassie snuggled closer to Sam, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. "G'night, Sam."

"Night, baby," Sam whispered, kissing the top of her daughter's head.

---

If she had been at home, she would've been wearing the orange pajamas with pictures of rabbits on them. If she'd been home, the silence of her bedroom would've been broken by either the soft pattering of the shower or the quiet sounds of the radio playing oldies music. The house wouldn't smell this musty; instead, there would be a delightful aroma of bacon and eggs filling the house and rousing everyone out of slumber. Sam would eventually have come back to bed, slipping under the covers and waking Janet with a kiss or a tight embrace.

But Janet wasn't at home and her sleep was disturbed by a single word, growled through grit teeth. "Tau'ri..."

She woke quickly, instantly realizing where she was and what was at stake. Osiris was laying in bed, clutching her stomach. Her face was contorted in pain, her lips pulled back to reveal a perfect row of white teeth. Janet moved to the bedside, kneeling on the mattress and putting a hand on both of Osiris' shoulders. "What? What's wrong?" she asked. The bandages were still in place - they were slightly marked with blood, but that wasn't too unusual. She would just have to redress them later.

"My... stomach," Osiris hissed. It seemed to pain her to admit there was an injury her Goa'uld symbiote couldn't heal. "It hurts."

Janet reached down, tenderly prodding the tender flesh of Osiris' abdomen. "First of all, my name is Janet. Not Tau'ri." She slowly examined the lower right quadrant, breathing a sigh of relief when her explorations didn't result in more pain. 'Last thing I need is to have to perform an emergency appendectomy on a Goa'uld.' Finally, she eased Osiris back onto the mattress and said, "You just have an upset stomach. It's a side effect of the infection you suffered. On Earth, I'd give you some Pepto Bismal, but this isn't Earth and I don't have any in my pack. I guess you'll just have to grin and bear it."

"I will not grin," Osiris replied.

Janet pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. "Then just deal with it," she said. "I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" Osiris asked, sitting up in bed and clutching her stomach.

Janet paused, holding her arms out in front of her to indicate the entire palace. "I am going to find the goddamn bathroom."


Chapter Four,

Her search of the palace grounds had resulted in a bathroom - which was blissfully christened by a grateful doctor - and another room similar to the one in which Osiris was recuperating. This room, however, had been damaged by the jihad that had led to the burial of the Stargate. The far corner of the room had collapsed in, leaving a gaping hole in the wall and a pile of rubble that stretched all the way to the side of the bed. Damage notwithstanding, it was much nicer than the room where she'd taken her nap upon her arrival on this world. Janet climbed onto the bed, wrapping herself in the unbelievably soft blanket and laying down as she allowed herself to - just for a moment - forget the predicament she was now in.

The moment was brief. She knew the longer she remained under the blankets the harder it would be to get up. She kicked the blanket away and climbed out of the bed to examine the rest of the room. A tall armoire was in the corner opposite the damage, the doors hanging precariously from their perches. She pulled one of the doors open only to have it fall from the body, crashing to the floor. She kicked it out of her way and examined the ancient robes and gowns that hung within. Some of them were torn, faded and all-but-destroyed by the passage of time. A few, however, still looked acceptable. She found a lavender kimono-like gown and tried it on.

The sleeves were a bit too long, feathering out and enveloping her hands in large bells of cloth. The front hem of the gown ended just above her knees, but the back swept down and nearly brushed the floor. It would be nice for a party, but just for walking around in... she replaced the gown and found a slip-like dress that would be perfect. It hung loosely around her body, ending just above her knees. She adjusted the spaghetti-string shoulder straps and smoothed the material against her thighs.

Picking up her clothes, she folded them carefully and placed them in the hallway where she could find them easily. 'After all,' she told herself, 'I might have to get out of here in hurry once Osiris gets well.' She sighed, trying not to ask herself if she actually believed that, and headed back to Osiris' bedside.

---

Sam knocked on the bathroom door, waiting for a reply before she said, "Cassie? If you want, you can stay home from school today. Maybe we could talk about your Mom?"

The door opened and Cassandra stood before her in a towel, her hair wet and clinging to her face. "I don't have to stay home."

Sam leaned against the doorframe. "I just thought you might like to. Considering what happened last night, I kind of thought you'd want to talk about everything that's going on. You know, get a little information on the situation?"

Cassie's eyes swam away, scanning the hallway. "Last night?"

'Oh, come on,' Sam wanted to grumble. "You woke up screaming? Thought the Goa'uld hated you?"

"That was a nightmare," Cassandra said, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm totally fine now."

"Cass--"

"Really! I'm fine. There's a math test I really need to take today. No make-up tests. If Mom knew I stayed home on a test day, she'd use my hide as curtains."

Sam managed to supress a smile. That was one of Janet's trademark threats, something that was uniquely Fraiser. "Cass, really, I'm sure your Mom wouldn't mind if--"

"I'm going to school, Sam," Cassandra sighed. "That's all there is to it." She shut the bathroom door, effectively ending the conversation.

Sam exhaled slowly, trying to make sense of the argument she'd just had. 'Usually, Cassie and I take the opposite sides in this fight. And usually, *Janet* is the one who makes everything right again.' She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. 'Oh, Janet... where are you?'

---

The thermometer read 103 when Janet took it from Osiris' mouth. She shook the wand, clearing the reading as she turned back to her patient. "You still have a fever."

"I could have told you that," Osiris growled. "That infernal device is useless and uncomfortable."

Janet glared at her patient. "I had a rectal thermometer in my bag, too. I thought I'd spare us both that experience."

Osiris grumbled, but said nothing more. She was sweating profusely, her gown plastered to her body. 'I may have to give her a sponge bath if worse comes to worse.' It wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, bathing a beautiful woman. It was just the idea of actually cleaning the body of a Goa'uld seemed too... too... Her mind flashed back to a Bible story she'd read once where a disciple (or was it a villager?) had washed Jesus' feet. That was it... bathing a Goa'uld would be far to reverential.

She pressed her palm to the woman's forehead, brushing curled strands of red-blonde hair out of her face. "I don't like this," she admitted. "I'm going to get you something to eat. Where can I find some food around here?"

"The kitchen. But I am not hungry. I fear whatever I eat will simply..." She indicated the sheets.

Janet nodded knowingly. "Okay. But I want to get you hydrated. Where can I find some water?"

"There is a stream... it runs alongside the temple. There... are containers in the kitchen." She winced, her hands moving towards her stomach.

"Easy," Janet said, pulling the blankets higher. "I won't be too long," she promised.

She left the room, hoping she could make her way to the kitchen and back by herself. 'Let's see... I went that way earlier and didn't see a kitchen. Process of elimination...' She turned down a long corridor, poking her head into each room she passed. No kitchen. No kitchen. No kitchen. Something that looked like a library. No kitchen. Finally, she hit the jackpot. A long room stood at the end of the hall, filled with wide tables that looked ready to play host to a banquet.

Janet weaved through the unattended tables, looking at the stained and crusted plates that had probably once held delicious food for the Goa'uld and their friends. Jaffa had probably eaten here, celebrating a victory or trying to convince slaves that the Goa'uld truly were worthy of worship. The ghosts of past celebrations crowded Janet, forcing her to quicken her pace towards the kitchen. She pushed through the heavy door and found herself in Wolfgang Puck's dream galley.

The place was immense, cauldrons that had been warmed by an actual fire lined one wall. Real wood stoves were tucked in the corner. A small closet that had probably been a cooler - room temperature now that the ice had long melted and evaporated - was in the center of one wall. Dozens of small plants grew within the pantries, stubbornly thriving though there had been no one to use them for years. 'Thank God for small favors,' Janet thought, making a note of where the food was.

The back space of the kitchen was practically empty. There were two large doors on the back wall. The space was large enough that living animals could have been - and probably had been - led here for the slaughter. The slaughterhouse argument was strengthened when Janet spotted the deep brown stains that marred areas of the floor. 'Dried blood... nice to know they kept everything sanitary.' She pushed that thought aside and found a large bowl hanging from the wall. 'This'll do,' she thought, tucking it under one arm and heading out of the kitchen.

---

"Sam?"

The blonde looked up, surprised to hear the familiar voice. Jacob Carter stood in the doorway, his eyebrows arched as he waited for his hug. "Dad? W-what are you doing here?" She stood, sliding around the desk and embracing her father. It was still weird to see him dressed in the Tok'ra 'fatigues,' but after years of being an Air Force Brat, she had gotten used to her father's many uniforms. "What's up?" she asked, wondering if he'd made the trip specifically for her.

"The Tok'ra asked to be contacted regarding the artifacts that were recovered from Osiris' tomb. Just in case there was any useful information or technology." He brushed a hand through her hair, instantly transforming from a man on business to a father. "Daniel told me what happened when I came to retrieve the artifacts. Sweety, I am so sorry. Are you doing okay?"

Her father was one of the few people who knew about her true relationship with Janet. She nodded, looking away from him for a moment. She spotted a file on the desk and picked it up, making sure she'd filled in all the appropriate boxes. "Uh-huh. Fine."

Jacob chuckled. "You tried the same thing when I asked how you were feeling about Sparky dying. Only that time, I'm pretty sure it was a Nancy Drew mystery that you looked at." He paused, then said, "And there were all the things you tried to do to distract yourself after your mother's accident."

Sam closed her eyes. Of all the people you should never try to fake out, fathers were at the top of the list. Sam's chuckle quickly degenerated into an anguished sob. She turned, not surprised to find that her father had closed the distance between them. He wrapped powerful arms around her, hugging her tightly as she began to cry. "I love her so much, Daddy."

He winced. Daddy. The last time she'd called him that was during a conversation about her mother. Jacob stroked her hair and whispered, "It's okay, baby... we'll get her back. Just hold on, sweety. We'll get her back."

Sam clutched to her father, grateful he had shut the door to her lab. She finally released everything she'd been withholding since her return from Egypt; all the pain, guilt and anger she felt about Janet's abduction. All the sorrow that she felt when she thought she might never see her lover again. The horror that she may have already been implanted with a Goa'uld symbiote. She thought the tears would never dry. When they finally did, she had fallen asleep, her body limp in her father's arms. He lifted her like a rag doll, carrying her to the low couch that the lab was supplied with and laid her down.

"It'll be okay, kiddo," he promised, kissing her head and draping a jacket over her. "It'll be okay."

---

Janet laid the bowl on the bedside table, glancing at Osiris as she placed a rag in the water. The stream had appeared to be fairly clean, but Janet had boiled the water in one of the large pots in the kitchen. It had taken her a long time to get the fire started and she had wasted a lot more time waiting for it to cool down once more. In her absence, Osiris had taken a turn for the worst. Her face was red, sweat pouring from her. She had torn away her gown, leaving her chest bare but, to Janet's relief, leaving the bandages and stitches untouched.

Pulling the rag from the water, Janet said, "Easy, now... just lay back and I'll help cool you down."

Osiris' gaze swept from Janet's face to the rag in her hand. "You did this to me," she growled. "You injured me... made me ill."

"I'm trying to help you, you ungrateful bitch!" Janet put her hand in the middle of Osiris' chest and pushed her down onto the mattress. "I'd be glad to let you die and rot in Hell if you weren't my ticket home." She put the rag on Osiris' forehead, hoping the water would cool the other woman down. It didn't.

"Bow in my presence," she demanded, sitting up and tossing the rag aside. Janet took an involuntary step back. Whatever had infected the Goa'uld, it was causing this outburst. She'd seen it several times during her residency. Delirium. The woman continued to rant. "I am Osiris and you are unworthy to look upon me. Bow before me!"

"Like hell," Janet said, bending to pick up the rag.

Osiris lashed out, grabbing a handful of Janet's hair and pulling her closer. Janet yelped, tears springing to her eyes. "Bow or I shall make an example of you."

"An example? To who?" Janet asked, gritting her teeth against the pain. "You have no followers! You're all but forgotten among System Lords. I am the only one who cares if you live or die because you DON'T MATTER ANYMORE." She reached up, forcing Osiris' fingers loose and snatching her head away. Osiris was visibly shocked by the outburst, her green eyes wide as she stared at her prisoner. "Lay down, let me cool you down and maybe I'll think about giving you painkillers."

To her surprise, Osiris reclined against the mattress, closing her eyes. Janet picked up the rag, shaking the dust from it before replacing it in the bowl of water. She forced herself to ignore the fact she could've died. She ignored the fact that she had just taken her own life in her hands... and lived. She had called the bluff of a Goa'uld and won. She didn't know if she should be proud... or terrified. She turned back to the bed, wiping Osiris' forehead and throat with the wet napkin. Her fever was already breaking.

---

While Osiris napped, Janet retraced her steps to one of the rooms she had discovered earlier. The musty library was pretty much useless for literary purposes. All of the books were, naturally, written in Goa'uld. She had found one large volume with several full-color illustrations and carried it back to the bedroom, finding a comfortable seat next to the window and curling her legs under her as she scanned the drawings. Whoever the artist was - probably a temple slave or something of the sort - they had a tremendous amount of talent. 'My teacher says I have talent.'

She closed her eyes. 'Thinking of Cassandra is *not* the best course of action here. I'll be with her soon enough... no need to tear myself up about not being there for her today.' She looked at Osiris, making sure the Goa'uld was still asleep, then went back to the pictures. The illustrations seemed to tell the story of a fierce battle in which Isis and Osiris triumphed over a false god that was invading. According to the book, the 'invaders' were the Asgard. Janet wondered how many books were being written with SG-1 and other assorted SGC soldiers as the bad guys.

As she read, she began to hum.

She turned a page, seeing where the Asgard invaders were being forced back to the Stargate. 'Wonder how they managed *that*,' Janet thought. Then, she realized what she was looking at. She sat up straight, glancing towards the bed. The song died in her throat as she examined the picture closely. The Stargate... it *was* located outside of a city, but she was unable to tell which. The buildings in the background, like everything else in the drawings, were exceptionally detailed. If necessary, she would be able to use them as a guide to lead her to the Stargate. She didn't have to be Osiris' slave anymore!

Her heart pounded as she turned back, looking at previous drawings. The cities were even more detailed here; showing entire streets and fountains. Osiris wouldn't want the Stargate to be too far from his temple, so it had to be nearby. And how many towns could there be in this area with fountains like that? She was about to walk out of the temple and abandon her captor when reality came knocking.

Osiris and Isis were shown in glowing halos of light. The Asgard were depicted as fragile, spindly creatures (which they were, but not to this extent). Everything was exaggerated. Creative license. The illustrations were an artist's rendition; it meant nothing and would be of little to no help in finding the actual burial site of the Gate. In all likelihood, the story had never happened.

Deflated, Janet rested once more, crossing her legs Indian-style and thumbing through the book again. She began humming again as she followed the story once more.

"What are you doing?"

Janet jumped, a scream dying in her throat. Osiris was still laying down, but her eyes were open and focused on Janet. "I'm reading," she said. "Actually... just looking at the pictures."

"No," Osiris breathed, lifting her shoulders and shifting her weight on the mattress. "The... musical sound. The music you were making."

Janet stood. "I was humming."

"Please. Continue. It has been... too long since I have heard music." She smiled wistfully, as if remembering the last good song she'd heard. "The villagers would sing my praises in the hopes of gaining favor."

Rolling her eyes, the doctor said, "I won't be doing any hymns. I'm not in an honoring mood right now."

"I do not wish for you to honor me, Janet Fraiser. I simply wish to hear some music again. And I would like to apologize." Janet turned, eyes wide. Had she heard right? "During my fever, I became delusional. I believed I was once again ruler of this world. I... ap-apologize for ordering you to bow before me."

Janet was thrown for a loop, trying to find the appropriate response to that. She didn't think there *was* an appropriate response; there was a good chance she was the first person in history to be apologized to by a Goa'uld. "I... Apology accepted," Janet said, still trying to wrap her mind around the idea. Finally, she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "What song would you like?"

"You would not know any songs that I would wish to hear, just as I would not know any that you would wish to hear. Simply... sing something. Please."

Please. There it was again. Janet turned, looking out the window and thinking of the song that had been blasting on her radio when she left home for college. It was certainly appropriate now. She cleared her throat and began singing a capella. "I'm sittin' in a railway station, got a ticket for my destination... mmm..."

Osiris moaned, then said, "Sarah Gardner knows this song."

Janet continued. "On a tour of one-night stands, my suitcase and guitar in hand, and ev'ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man-band. Homeward bound, I wish I was... Homeward bound..."

She continued to sing, leaning against the wall as she stared into the forest. It was dusk, the sun disappearing once more behind the trees. It was the end of her second day as a captive and she was singing to the person who was holding her prisoner. Somewhere out there, Sam was probably desperately trying to find her. Somewhere out there, Cassandra was probably breaking apart with sadness. Somewhere...

"Home, where my love lies waiting silently for me... Silently for me..."

'Don't give up on me just yet, Samantha,' she thought, brushing a tear from her eye. 'I'll be coming home soon. Just hold on, baby.'


Chapter Five,

"Dad," Sam said, slowly pulling herself out of her slumber. She sat up, wondering how long she had been out and how long her father had been sitting at the desk looking through mundane reports. He put down the stack and turned towards her, smiling gently. "How long was I out?"

"About an hour. You feel better?"

She nodded. "Why are you still here? Shouldn't... don't the Tok'ra need you?"

"Probably. But there's something I wanted to discuss with you. How has Cassandra been handling this?"

"Cassie?" Sam frowned. "She's... she *hasn't* been dealing with it. But maybe that's for the best. You know? Maybe it's part of her survival instinct."

Jacob closed his eyes. "Sam. Grieving is an integral part of the survival process. You shouldn't give up on Janet, but... you probably shouldn't hold out too much hope. There's an old proverb that says to hope for the best but prepare for the worst. What do you think it would do to Cassie if she spent months waiting for Janet to come back and you eventually find her dead?" Sam winced, turning away from her father. "Or blended? There's a chance Osiris found a new queen and took Janet as a host."

"Stop it," Sam hissed, covering her eyes.

Jacob reached out, embracing his daughter. "Sam... Listen to me. Cassandra needs to know that Janet might not be coming back. She has to... come to terms with the idea that no one is invincible."

Sam coughed, shaking her head and smiling. "Tough to do when her grandpa makes a miraculous recovery from his deathbed."

"I had a little help," Jacob smirked. "I'm not saying you have to start writing Janet's obituary. Just... get some help for dealing with this. See a psychiatrist."

"Dad..."

"I know, I know how you feel about them. But find someone you trust and just... go from there." He brushed her hair again, then asked, "You'll be okay?"

She nodded. "You have to get back to Vorash?"

"Yeah."

"Bye. Thanks for coming, Dad... I appreciate it."

He smiled, kissing her forehead before heading to the door. As he stepped into the hallway, she stood. "Dad?" He turned, sticking his head back into the room. "Do... Do you think we'll find Janet?"

Jacob closed his eyes, his head hanging low for a moment. When he straightened, his eyes glowed. Selmak said, "The Tok'ra have heard no reports of Osiris' return. The ship Daniel described has not been seen by any of our operatives. Wherever she is, she is keeping a low profile for the time being." He closed his eyes again and Jacob returned. "That could be a good thing. It means Osiris may actually be injured past her symbiote's ability to heal. Which means she actually needs Janet alive. The chances are good."

She nodded, then said, "Could I speak to my father?" The creature sharing Jacob Carter's body closed it's eyes and swallowed, as if fighting back a wave of nausea. When he looked up again, his features were unchanged but unmistakably human. Sam smiled at her father and said, "Thanks for coming, Dad. I love you."

"Love you, too, kiddo."

---

"--Let me go home... Why don't they let me go home, yeah yeah. This is the worst trip I've ever been on..."

Janet closed her eyes and rubbed her throat. She had been singing for hours now, keeping Osiris entertained. The Goa'uld rose her head off the pillows, frowning. "Why have you stopped?"

"My throat is sore," Janet said, wishing for a glass of apple juice. "You mind if we stop the medley for tonight? Try to get some sleep?"

"Very well," Osiris grumbled, laying back down.

Janet checked her patient's forehead, smiling when she saw that the fever was diminishing. "Hey, good news. You may not be bed-ridden for much longer. Good news all around." She looked at the chair she'd slept in the night before. "You, ah... mind if I sleep somewhere else tonight? That chair isn't doing much for my back."

Osiris seemed annoyed at the request, but nodded. "I shall call if you are needed."

"Goody." Janet turned and left the bedroom, happy for the reprieve. The fever breaking was wonderful news for Janet; it meant she was one step closer to home. Unless, of course, Osiris was lying and had no intention to honor her promise. 'In which case, I'm one step closer to death or implantation.' She shivered at that thought, ruffling her hair and wishing for a shower. She hadn't had anything to eat in two days, but hardly felt hungry. She needed water, though. The few handfuls she'd taken earlier hadn't been much.

She sighed and rolled her neck, welcoming the lovely 'pop.' She massaged the back of her neck... and paused, looking out one of the windows and into the forest. Another fire was flickering through the trees. Someone was definitely out there; camping or simply making dinner. As she had been the night before, she was tempted to find the mysterious camper and beg their assistance. But there was nothing to assure her that whoever was out there wasn't ten times worse than Osiris. She stepped away from the window and reluctantly went to her room.

---

Osiris managed to make her way to the kitchen without collapsing, but it wasn't an easy journey. A trip that had originally taken three minutes had stretched to twelve. She leaned in the doorway, scanning the galley for what she needed. She opened the storeroom door, smiling when she saw the supplies had simply grown larger during her absence. They had taken root in the soft dirt of the closet, growing without the threat of cooks coming in to use them for a meal. They were called parthyme fruit, a delicacy. She plucked one of the fuzzy-skinned pomegranates from it's vine and peeled away the sticky skin. Black and yellow seeds spilled out of the core, littering the ground around her feet. It didn't matter; the seeds were inedible anyway.

She remembered the warning the cooks had given her in the past: Never eat the flesh of the parthyme. It will make you very ill for days.

Turning the fruit over in her hands, she pondered what she was about to do. 'Would it be so wrong to tell the doctor you enjoy her company?'

Osiris was surprised by the voice intruding on her thoughts, her eyes searching the room. Slowly, she realized that the voice had come from within; the host. The symbiote was still too weak to supress all of Sarah Gardner's thoughts. "Yes," Osiris replied aloud. "A Goa'uld does not require a mere Tau'ri for company."

'You obviously do. I can tell; you enjoy her company. You enjoy the care she shows for you. With all of your worshippers and all of your power, you've never had anyone genuinely take care of you before. You've never had anyone who truly wanted you to survive.'

"For someone who learned of the Goa'uld one week ago, you certainly have a lot of theories."

'I've had some time to think.'

Osiris seethed. "I am not attempting to keep her here indefinitely. I will honor my word and return her home."

'But not right now.'

She closed her eyes and felt the symbiote encompass Sarah Gardner's consciousness. The mind was, once again, hers and hers alone. The annoyance dealt with, Osiris closed her eyes and took a bite of the foul-smelling fruit.

It tasted even worse than it smelled, the slimy meat of the fruit brushing against her tonsils as she swallowed. She fought her host's gag reflex, holding a hand to her mouth as she forced another mouthful down her throat. It was the most awful thing she had ever tasted. Finally, she finished the entire fruit, reluctantly licking the juices from her fingers. The fruit was a noxious lump in her stomach. She belched and began the long journey back to her bed.

---

Sam didn't sleep that night. She sat up in the living room watching Frank Sinatras' version of "Ocean's Eleven" on AMC. When that ended, she put in Cassandra's DVD of the George Clooney version and watched it. When that was done, she turned off the TV and went to the garage, looking for something to keep her busy until morning. Finding nothing, she returned to the house and logged onto the Internet, answering some E-mail and discovering a message from her brother in San Diego. He reported that his wife and kids were doing well and Casey, his youngest, wanted to be in the Air Force 'just like her Auntie Sam.' She replied to the message, telling Casey to 'go for it!' and proceeding to surf the web aimlessly.

After tiring of Courtney Thorne-Smith websites and Gillian Anderson shrines, she turned off the computer and headed into the kitchen to make breakfast. It was five am, which meant Cassie wouldn't be up for another couple of hours, but Sam was hungry. She cooked a few strips of bacon and two eggs for herself and decided to make some more when Cass woke. She sat in front of the kitchen window, staring at their neighbor's backyard as she nibbled on some bacon. She had called an old friend and made an appointment for 8:30, right after dropping Cassandra off at school. If everything was all right, she planned to make another appointment for 5:00... this time taking Cassie to the meeting with her.

By the time Sam finished with breakfast, it was time to begin getting ready for the day. Cassandra came bounding down the stairs, apparently energized by her full-night's rest. "Hey, Sam. What're you doing up?"

Sam smiled at the girl. "Couldn't sleep," she said.

"Miss your Mom?" she asked, hugging Sam tightly.

"Don't you?"

Cassie nodded. "Sure. But she'll be back." She squeezed Sam once more before hurrying off into the kitchen. "Someone cooked eggs and bacon in here. Where's mine?"

Sam slipped out of her chair and followed the girl. "I'll make you some. Go upstairs and take a shower. You reek."

Cassie wrinkled her nose but obeyed Sam's order. Alone again, Sam closed her eyes and leaned against the counter. The girl's eyes had been sporting enough luggage for a three-day weekend. She had stayed up all night rather than risk another nightmare-slash-screaming episode. Sam shook her head. If she hadn't already made the appointment with the psychiatrist, she would have now. 'It's bad enough I'm losing sleep... now Cassandra?' Sam shook her head and got the eggs from the fridge, once again thinking about where Janet might be and what she might be doing.

---

On a family trip to the Grand Canyon when she was eight, Mom and Pop Fraiser had decided to let little Janet sleep in her own room. It was really just an addition to their room, separated by a silk screen, but it had been her first real taste of freedom. The room had been awful; orange carpet, multi-colored curtains and a bed that vibrated when nickles were inserted into the nightstand. The TV was bolted down and the remote was firmly attached to the desk next to the bed. To use the remote, it required the viewer to sit straight up in bed, their arm bent at an awkward angle. Then there was the smell; Janet spent the first ten minutes looking for the corpse of the skunk that had died in the room, but found nothing.

'Yes,' Janet decided. 'That *was* worse than this place.' She had spent the last two hours trying to determine the worst place she'd ever slept. So far, number one was P2W-414. Her cot had apparently been salvaged from a discount store or a flea market and the material threatened to buckle in the middle of the bed. During the night, a windstorm had swept through the camp and whipped her tent to and fro on the supports, nearly leaving her exposed in her regulation undies. She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep that night.

At least in this situation, she got an actual bed, indoors, with no wind gusts. The smell was negligible; she could smell *something,* but it wasn't enough to make her wrinkle her nose in disgust.

Climbing out of bed, faced with the idea that this might be her last day as a prisoner, she actually allowed herself to smile upon surveying the world outside her window. As far as prisons went, it would be hard to top this one. Peace and quiet, room to move about as she pleased, a practically always absent guard... But she wouldn't have to be here much longer. She found another robe in the dresser, this one blue, and slipped into it before heading to Osiris' bedroom. Her smile immediately vanished once she entered the room and saw her patient. "Oh, no," she sighed. "What now?"

Osiris was sitting on the edge of the bed, sheets wrapped loosely around her body. She was shaking, her skin pale and her hair stringy. She'd obviously been sweating the entire night, suffering from the shakes and a high fever. Janet touched the Goa'uld's forehead, dismayed to find it extremely hot. "Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you come find me?"

"I... did not wish to disturb your... slumber..."

Janet blinked back her shock at that. What did a Goa'uld care if a human lost a little sleep? They were just slaves and host bodies waiting to be harvested, right? Janet pushed back the 'thank-you' that was forming on her lips and asked, "Have you thrown up?"

"No."

"You should," Janet instructed. "Get whatever is causing this out of your system." She helped the other woman to her feet and said, "Let's just do it outside this time, okay? I can still smell the sheets from the last time."

---

Sam knocked on the door even as she was pushing it open, sticking her head inside the small office. The raven-haired woman behind the desk rose, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she motioned her guest inside. "Yeah. Uh-huh... Okay, my eight-thirty just showed up. Could I call you back? Uh-huh. Okay. Bye-bye." Dacia Abraham hung up, reaffixing her earring as she came around the desk to embrace her old friend and one-time lover. She pecked Sam's cheek affectionately, smoothing down the too-short blonde hair. "Sammy," she grinned. "It's been too long. Much, much too long... Social or business?"

"Business, I'm afraid," Sam said, moving towards one of the antique wingbacked chairs where Dacia conducted most of her business.

"Uh-oh," Dacia said, returning to the desk and plucking something from the top drawer. She waved a green wrapper at Sam and said, "Nutri-Grain? It's apple-cinnamon, your favorite..."

"I'll pass, Dash. Thanks anyway," Sam said, taking a seat.

Dacia - whose name was pronounced day-sha - had only allowed one person to use the nickname 'Dash.' She smiled at the memory, taking her usual seat and crossing her legs. "Is this about the beauty who stole you away from me?" she asked, unwrapping the snack.

"Sort of. There's been an incident and... I'm not sure how to deal with it."

Dacia shrugged. "Details."

As Dacia nibbled on her breakfast, Sam related the entire incident involving Janet's abduction and Cassandra's subsequent withdrawal. She spared no details; Dacia was fully briefed on all matters of the Stargate and the Goa'uld. Sam had been ordered to receive psychiatrict evaluations after her encounter with Jolinar. Rather than relating her private thoughts to Dr. McKenzie, Sam had requested the debriefing of Dacia, a psychiatrist she knew and trusted with her secrets. It had taken a long period of requests before the Pentagon had given in.

Sam leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and staring at the watercolor above Dacia's head. "I don't know, Dash. Maybe Cassandra's reaction is the best reaction. Maybe we *should* act like there's nothing wrong..."

Dacia reached out, taking one of Sam's hands. "Sam, Cassandra is going through denial. I'm not surprised, considering what you deal with on a daily basis. Janet has been relatively protected. The base has precautions that keep her from danger; if anything from the Stargate were to affect her, there's a good chance it would also affect the rest of the world before too long. Now Janet has been taken. Cassandra is having a hard time dealing with it." She pursed her lips, then asked, "You said she has nightmares?"

"Yeah. The first night. But she didn't sleep last night, so..." She held her hands out palm up and shook her head.

"If we don't get her to talk about it, it's going to explode out one way or another. It could manifest as... a physical attack or simply by her acting out. She might even turn in on herself and enter a sort of comatose state until the situation is resolved."

Sam recalled Cassandra's behavior upon arriving from Hanka; silent, withdrawn, unwilling to eat... "So how do we get her talking?"

"I have an opening at four-thirty," Dacia smiled.


Chapter Six,

Janet woke on the eleventh day of her imprisonment to the sound of rain falling outside. For the past three days, the planet Nizana had been buffeted by a gentle rainstorm that showed no signs of letting up. The heavy gray clouds that filled the sky seemed to go on forever; no blue skies in sight. Janet welcomed the rain. She felt comforted by the familiar smell of ozone that filled her bedroom (a side effect of having no glass in the windows) and the cool air that washed over her. The few times she had stayed near the sea or a lake on Earth, she had left the window open. She loved the fresh smell of rain. It permeated the dank and musty halls of the temple, making the stench nearly tolerable. That was the beauty of rain; the past was washed away, everything was allowed to start anew.

Everything, that was, except for prisoners.

Janet rolled over, brushing her hair out of her face and watching the fat droplets spill past the window of her room. The rain also broke the monotony of her imprisonment. For the first few days, she had felt uneasy, maybe even afraid of what Osiris was capable of. Afraid that, once healed, the Goa'uld wouldn't honor their arrangement. That had given way to a wary calm, which soon became boredom. The day-in, day-out grind of making sure Osiris was healthy was beginning to wear on her. She sat up, finger-brushing her hair. 'What I wouldn't give for a shower,' she griped to herself, standing and making her way to the armoire.

She had already used up all of the clothing that was suitable to her situation, so she was beginning the cycle again. She found the discarded green robe she'd worn on the first (or was it the second?) day of her confinement. Everything was beginning to blur together now. She leaned on the windowsill, stretching a hand out into the downpour.

On the bright side, Osiris' recovery had been moving along swiftly. A few days ago, she had gotten out of bed to use the bathroom by herself, something which Janet was immensely grateful for. The symbiote was quickly recovering from it's own imprisonment, taking over much of the 'doctor' duties. Now, eleven days after being snatched from the temple in Egypt, Janet thought there was a good chance that she would get to see her home again.

Soon this nightmare would be over.

And then what? Everything would go back to normal? As much as she hated to admit it, she found it hard to think of Osiris as an enemy. She had nursed the Goa'uld back to health, held her hand through a fever and even held glass of water for her. She had taken the other woman's temperature, given sponge baths, performed surgery and fed the Goa'uld. She had sung to Osiris, she had told her stories. And now that she was healed, they would go their separate ways: Janet to the SGC and Osiris to the System Lords. It would only be a matter of time before SG-1 ran up against Osiris. Then what?

'Oh, General, Sir? Would you mind not sending a team to infiltrate and destroy that Goa'uld palace? I just happen to be friends with that particular Goa'uld.'

She stopped herself short. Friends? 'Do I consider myself her friend? How could I even conceive a friendship with... with *that*? It stole the body of Daniel's ex-lover. It kidnapped me and held me here against my will. How could I possibly think of her as a friend?' Despite her disgust at that particular thought, Janet found that it was close to the truth. Somewhere in the middle of the caretaking, she had actually developed feelings for the Goa'uld.

It was no longer a matter of 'keep her alive so she can get me home.' Janet leaned against the wall and breathed, "I want her to live because I don't want to see her die." She blinked quickly, brushing her face as she pushed away from the wall. The sooner she got home, the better.

---

Now that she was all-but recovered, Osiris had started taking quick jaunts from the surface to her ship in orbit. On one of these jaunts, she found a message waiting from a helpful informant in service to Zipacna. "Regarding forces of Earth. Interest lies in one team in particular. They are called SG-1 and are composed of Major Samantha Carter, Colonel Jack O'Neill, Doctor Daniel Jackson and Teal'c, a shol'va who once served as First Prime to Apophis." Osiris read the rest of the message, getting what information she could from the note. Finally, she erased the message and returned to the rings.

---

Osiris found Janet in the kitchen. The rain had forced them to make use of the organic foods growing in the kitchen. Unfortunately, supplies were limited and demand was heavy. Even with both of them skipping lunch (and Osiris skipping an entire day's worth of meals due to her illness), they were now running extremely low. "Have you found food?"

"No," Janet said, not bothering to turn around. "Any suggestions?"

Osiris scanned the kitchen. "There are farms near the palace. Within walking distance, I believe. You could make the journey in a few hours' time." She picked a basket off the wall, holding it out towards Janet. "This should hold enough to keep up satisfied for a few days."

"A few days," Janet repeated, taking the basket from Osiris. "How much longer will I have to stay here? You look fine."

"But I am not. My symbiote is working to repair the damage to my body, but--"

Janet cut her off. "Enough of the bullshit, all right? On Earth, there's something called a period of observation. Hospitals sometimes keep an otherwise healthy patient overnight just to make sure there's nothing wrong with them. Well, that's what I'll be doing tonight. Watching. No tricks, no games. If you look fine in the morning, we're getting on that ship in orbit and you are flying me home. Do you understand me?"

Osiris worked her jaw, staring daggers at the petite woman before her. "Understood. But when you return from the farms, there is a matter of grave importance which we must discuss."

Janet took a step back, then looked down into the empty basket. "Right. Sure. Now... where can I find these farms?"

---

Dacia's outer office was decorated with three navy blue couches that formed a cubicle, the open end facing the receptionist. Sam was sitting on the far-right couch, thumbing through an eight-week-old issue of Entertainment Weekly as she waited for five o'clock to roll around. She was in the middle of a fascinating article about Tom Hanks when the door to Dacia's office swung out and Cassandra exited, pulling her backpack onto her shoulders. Sam smiled and rose, dropping the magazine back onto the table and moving to her daughter. "Hey. How'd it go?"

"Good," Cassie reported, smiling and hugging her mother. Dacia followed the girl out and Cassandra turned. "Thanks a lot, Dr. Abraham."

"No problem. And call me Dacia," the doctor smiled, brushing Cassie's hair. "See you next Thursday?"

"Thursday?" Sam asked, confused. Due to the nature of Cassie's situation, they had agreed upon daily visits. But Thursday was four days off.

Dacia nodded. "We agreed that it was time to cut back on our sessions a little. Give her some time to be with her friends or go to the mall." She chuckled. "You know, be a teenager."

Sam laughed and said, "Why don't you head on out to the car, 'kay?"

Cassie nodded and said good-bye to Dacia, heading out of the office. Once she was gone, Sam stepped closer to her ex-lover. "If this is because of the checks, I swear I'll pay you just as soon as I get paid. Right now, it's just--"

"It's hard on one paycheck. I know." She brushed Sam's arm. "It's not that. I would help you for free if you would let me. I truly think Cassandra has made a breakthrough. I don't see the need to have her come in every day." Her fingers tightened slightly on Sam's arm. "Although I do regret I won't be able to see as much of you as I have been."

Sam blushed a little, glancing at the reception area. The secretary had gone for the day, so they were alone in the office. "Dash..."

"I know," Dacia whispered, her hand moving to Sam's cheek. "But it's part of the grieving process, you know? Acceptance. And moving on. Dealing with your ghosts and demons. Cassandra isn't the only one holding out false hopes for Janet." She pulled a card from her jacket pocket, pressing it into Sam's hand. "Take this. Give me a call if you ever want to talk or... get a drink. Call anytime, Sammy."

Sam nodded, pressing her forehead to Dacia's. "I'll call," she promised.

Dacia lightly kissed Sam's lips, then smoothed her hands over the blonde's back. "You better go. Cassie's waiting on you."

Sam stepped away, slipping Dacia's card into the pocket of her jeans and moving towards the front door.

---

The immense front hall of the palace had no doubt been created with hordes of worshippers in mind. The front wall was composed of two rows of pillars, the back wall covered with an ornate banner. The chair where Osiris had accepted the love and adoration of his followers was gone, stolen by looters and non-believers. Janet allowed herself to smile at the absent throne, the legs of which still stood as a sad reminder of a dynasty long past. She left the palace, finding an overgrown cobblestone path that wound it's way through the trees.

Janet had the basket tucked under her left arm, holding a long stick in her right hand. She used the stick to tap out a staccato rhythm on the cobblestones, entertaining herself with music as she walked. The rain had lessened to a drizzle, lightly spraying her as she headed away from the temple. Osiris had found her before she left, telling Janet that she would be traveling to her ship for a short time and she would return as soon as possible. Janet didn't care; any time away from the Goa'uld was quality time. Now that she was on the trail, however, Osiris leaving meant that Janet was truly alone on the surface of the alien planet. That thought made her walk a bit faster, raising the stick after deciding it would make a better weapon than instrument.

She was about to give up on the farm about three hours into her walk. Just as she had been preparing to turn back to the temple, she spotted the shack amid an overgrown field. It looked like it was about to collapse in on itself, the roof sagging and the walls crumbling apart. Janet could see completely through the building in several places. She fought her way through the overgrown front lawn, by-passing the rickety steps for fear they would collapse and jumped directly onto the porch.

If anyone had lived in this place, they had packed thoroughly when they left. There was no furniture, no signs of habitation whatsoever. A quick search of the grounds showed her six empty rooms, all of which reeked of death and animal droppings. Definitely not a place she wanted to spend much time in.

She was about to leave the house and pillage the crops when she spotted a door, hidden at the end of the hallway and tucked inside a small alcove. She frowned; all the other doors had been open. Her heart pounding, she approached this door and rested her hand on the knob. Her fingers came back with a fine coating of dust. 'Okay... so no one's gone in here recently. That's good... means no one is hiding.' She turned the knob, not surprised when it came off in her hand. She dropped it and hooked her fingers in the opening, pulling the light door open. Her eyes widened at what she found.

A bathtub.

She stepped into the room, eyes fixed on the porcelein basin that was nestled in the corner. Thoughts of hunger vanished; she had eaten yesterday. But it had been over a week since she had bathed.

Transfixed by the idea of a bath, she dropped the basket and quickly stripped, dropping to her knees next to the tub. Instead of a plumbing system like on Earth, this bathwater was drawn by a pump. From groundwater. Which meant that no matter how much time had passed, there was still a chance for a bath. She didn't care about the grime in the bottom of the tub; it could easily be washed away. She grabbed the handcrack and began pumping, eyes wide and unblinking as she heard the gurgling in the pipes. Her arm moved faster, pumping up and down as she awaited that glorious splash.

Water suddenly erupted from the pipe, spilling into the basin. Once it started, the flow was nearly impossible to stop. It splashed, swirled, splattered and dripped all over her. She finally stopped when the tub was full, but the spout continued to pour forth. When it stopped, the tub was completely full and the floor was soaked. Janet's clothes were now wet, but she didn't care; they were already wet from the rain.

She stood and slowly dipped one foot into the water. Liquid heaven. She sighed and slipped the rest of the way into the water, letting herself sink up to her neck. Everything seemed to erase away, all of her thoughts and fears. All of her anger. She hooked her arms on the outer lips of the tub, sighing blissfully as she allowed herself to float in the tub. With a smile, she took a deep breath and let herself sink completely.

Only a small tuft of hair remained above the surface of the water, which was broken only by a steady stream of bubbles.

---

Osiris walked purposefully into the canteen, eyes searching for someone who looked like he had information. She spotted him next to the de'breto tables, swigging some kind of alcohol and making a wager on the next turn of the dice. She grabbed him by his filthy jacket and yanked him away from the table. "Hey!" he shouted, struggling against her. "I gotta lot ridin' on that dice!" He pulled away from her and turned, his mood immediately lightening when he saw who had held him. "Course anything I can do to help a gorgeous woman..."

"I am Osiris. And I need information."

The weasel snickered, glancing back at the de'breto tables. "No 'fense, lady, but Osiris is dead and buried. Next time, try sayin' that you're Isis. She was a god*dess*, after all."

Her hand shot out, wrapping around his throat and cutting off his oxygen. "I have been awakened from a very long sleep and I would like information. It is up to you whether I get the knowledge from you or your competitor."

He coughed, hands moving to Osiris' fingers. "W-whaddaya wanna know?" he croaked.

"SG-1," she said, making sure she got the letters and numbers right. "I would like to know who they are. And how one would go about defeating them."

The snitch laughed, his throat sore. He took a sip of ale, then shook his head. "Ain't no one like you gonna defeat SG-1. Apophis couldna do it, Hathor couldna do it, Sokar couldna do it. You got no chance."

"I do not need to be successful. I simply wish to know how one would go about destroying them. And I am in a hurry."

The snitch sniffled, turning to look longingly at the de'breto dealer. She was wearing a short dress that revealed everything her mother and creator had given her. He gave her an appreciative once over, then turned back to Osiris. "Okay, first thing you gotta know about is this fuckin' iris thing they have..."

---

Janet exploded out of the water, gasping for oxygen. She sat up in the tub, brushing the water from her eyes and nose. One minute, fifty seconds. She smiled, climbing out of the tub. Her best so far. She had spent the last twenty minutes seeing how long she could stay under. She knew that Sam had once been underwater for three minutes (no details on why; Janet had declined hearing the details, fearing that it would only make her confront the danger Sam faced daily). Jack O'Neill had been underwater for two and a half. She didn't know Daniel's time, but Teal'c... suffice to say, no one would beat Teal'c any time soon.

She shivered in the cold air of the room, suddenly wishing she had a towel to dry herself off with. 'Too bad the previous owners didn't leave any of their stuff,' she thought. 'Guess when it comes to the end of the world, prefurnished housing is the least of people's concerns.' She slipped back into her robe, the material wet and clinging to her skin as she tried to straighten it. Maybe the bath hadn't been the best idea...

No. She felt like a new person; clean and human again. The bath had been a godsend. She smiled, putting her sneakers back on and heading outside to pluck her lunch.

---

Her basket overflowing with goodies - from apples to oranges to grapes to bananas - Janet headed back to the palace. Halfway there, she spotted a beam of light from somewhere in the sky streak towards the palace. 'The ring transporter,' she realized. 'Osiris is home.'

She paused, not sure she wanted to see the Goa'uld just yet. She was having a great day by herself. Singing without worrying about remembering lyrics, talking to herself without worrying about someone answering. She turned off the path as she approached the temple, stepping through the underbrush and making her way towards the creek she had seen her first day on the planet. 'Some time by the stream, maybe munch on some of this fruit I picked, then head back and have lunch with the woman who kidnapped me.'

To her surprise, she couldn't think of Osiris as anything other than an annoyance. It troubled her...

She knelt under a tall weeping willow, resting against the tree and allowing the stream to lull her into a daydream. She was with Sam and Cassandra, camping. Sam was trying to set up the tent and Cassie was complaining about being separated from her computers. Janet saw herself rolling her eyes and saying that Cassandra was definitely Sam's child. She saw Cassie hugging them both and proclaiming that she was 'both of theirs'.

'Great,' Janet said, wiping her eyes. She forced back her tears, shaking her head. 'Tomorrow. I'll be with them tomorrow.'

A few yards upriver, the brush shuddered as something moved through it. Janet tensed, wondering if this was another carefree cougar or if it was a fierce predator. Unfortunately, it didn't turn out to be that simple.

Osiris stepped out of the brush, moving towards the edge of the water and kneeling in the mud, reaching down and running her hands through the current. Janet remained still, wondering if she'd been seen. The answer soon became apparent when Osiris rose to her feet, tugging at her robe and slipping it from her body. Janet's jaw dropped as Osiris stripped, draping her clothing over a convenient branch before stepping into the water. 'Oh, my God,' Janet thought, unable to take her eyes off the redhead as she splashed herself with water. 'She's gorgeous.'

She had seen the Goa'uld nude several times - it came with the territory of being a doctor. But that had been in a certain environment. That had been a life-or-death situation. This was... something else entirely. It was - dare she say it? - erotic. She watched Osiris dip her hands into the water, bringing handfuls up and letting it fall over her breasts, the cold water making her coral nipples stand at attention. Janet licked her lips, unable to tear her eyes away from the vision before her. She took in everything; the red-gold of Osiris' curly hair, the spattering of freckles between her breasts, the near-invisible scars where bullets had pierced her flesh less than two weeks ago ('Sick symbiote, my ass,' Janet thought, looking at what remained of the wounds).

She had to guess on the rest; Osiris' lower body was submerged.

'God, stop staring! Just close your eyes and wait until she's done. Then you can leave.' She couldn't even convince herself. The Goa'uld fell forward suddenly, disappearing completely underwater. Janet's back straightened, frowning slightly at this new wrinkle. A few second later, the object of her voyeurism burst from below the surface, her hair swinging back like a whip. Her entire body was curved, her breasts pushed forward and her shoulders back as her hair slapped against her bare back.

Janet could only stare.

After a few seconds, Osiris made her way back to the shore, climbing out and gathering her clothes. She draped her robe over her arm, gathering her hair and twisting it to get rid of any excess water. As she bent, her hands wrapped around her hair, her green eyes darted to the willow that Janet had taken refuge under. The doctor forced herself to remain still, not even allowing herself to blink. 'The leaves are blocking me. She can't see me.'

A coy smile played at the corners of Osiris' lips as she turned and headed back to the temple.

---

Janet entered the temple almost a full twenty minutes after peeping at Osiris in the stream. She carried her basket through the silent halls, finally reaching the kitchen and dropping what she had gathered on the counter. Osiris turned, examining the spread. "You did well," she said, her voice distracted. "Before we eat... there is something of grave importance I must tell you."

She sighed. "What?"

"You ordered me to return you to Earth tomorrow. But that will be quite impossible."

The little corner of her mind where Janet had allowed hope to reside suddenly crumbled. She closed her eyes and leaned against the counter. "Great. What's the excuse this time?"

"No excuses."

Why was her voice so damned soft? Janet looked up, frowning.

"The reason I ate the fruit was... I did not wish to tell you the truth. I have received several communications from Jaffa in the service to Zipacna and Ba'al. There has been a development concerning the war against the Tau'ri." She closed her eyes, hoping she could remember all of the information her informant had fed to her. "A team known as SG-1 was investigating a stronghold I once ruled over. In my absence, it had been taken over by Apophis. He captured SG-1, keeping the shol'va as his personal... plaything... while he put the others to good use. Daniel Jackson was murdered."

Janet winced, her knees turning to jelly. She didn't want to hear anymore. Didn't want to hear what had happened because of her.

"Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter were blended with Goa'uld symbiotes."

'GOD NO!' Janet wanted to shout. Her vocal cords failed her.

"The newly blended hosts gave Apophis vital information, including something called an iris code."

Janet's breathing was reduced to short, strangled sobs. Her eyes were wet with tears. She wanted to beg the other woman to shut up, wanted her to just *stop talking*, but she had to know. She had to finish.

"Apophis led the assault and was later joined by Cronus and Heru'ur. The Asgard were contacted, but were too late to stop what had already begun. Earth was being taken over. I am truly sorry Janet, but there is no home to return you to."

Janet finally found her voice. "You're lying," she croaked. "You're a fucking liar." A ring had formed around Janet's chest, squeezing tighter and tighter until she was certain her lungs would be unable to draw in oxygen. The room swam around her as she sank to her knees, her lips moving soundlessly as she tried to form words that accurately portrayed the horror of this situation. No words could justify what she was feeling. Hopelessness. Distraught. Alone. Empty. She sobbed quietly, her hands closing in on her face and her fingers wrapping around handfuls of hair.

Sam.

Cassandra.

Everyone she knew, everyone she had ever loved. Everyone she had ever *met*. Dead or enslaved.

When the world came back into focus, the Goa'uld was standing next to her, apparently wanting to do something but unable to express something like sorrow or compassion. Janet sniffled, brushing her hand under her nose. "You," she hissed, pointing a finger at Osiris. "Your people... destroyed my planet. You killed all of the people I hold dear."

Osiris looked down for a moment, then said, "I... feel... sorry for your loss. However... there may be a way to ease the pain you are feeling."

Janet hung her head, feeling immensely tired and weak. She looked at the floor and whispered, "What?"

"A symbiote could be procured. Within a matter of--"

The brunette's head shot up, bloodshot eyes afire. "A *what*?"

Osiris frowned. "A symbiote."

Janet exploded, shouting incoherently at the Goa'uld. She screamed nonsense at her captor, the veins in her neck throbbing and her face turning an odd shade of red. Janet's eyes were squeezed shut, tears managing to squeeze out as she continued to babble at the woman before her. Earth was gone. SG-1 had been captured while searching for their friend. None of this would have happened if it weren't for Osiris. She screamed as long and as loud as she could, until her lungs threatened to collapse and her face burned like an inferno. Unable to verbally assault her now, Janet threw a punch at Osiris, catching the other woman's jaw and throwing her back.

"BITCH!" Janet snapped, closing the gap between them. She punched again, this time growling, "CUNT! Whore! Goddamned snakeheaded motherfucking cocksucking FUCK!" She kicked Osiris in the gut, gritting her teeth. "You want me to heal you? I'll give you something to heal!" She mercilessly assaulted the woman before her, lashing out with words, fists and feet until Osiris was spitting blood.

When the maelstrom subsided, Janet stepped back. Blood marred her gown, her knuckles bloody and sore. She was panting heavily, tears running down her face and dripping from her chin. Osiris wavered slightly, pushing herself halfway up before she collapsed back to the floor. Cassandra. Samantha. Momma. Daddy. Janet's tears started anew and she covered her face. Violence wouldn't end anything. Violence had *started* this. She turned and ran, dashing between two tall pillars and fighting her way through the underbrush.

Sharp branches lashed out, striking her in the face and arms. Blood seeped from the wounds, but she didn't pay attention to the stinging pain. Her mind was focused on all the people she knew that had died. She pictured Sam, laying on a table and screaming in agony as Apophis guided a snake into her body. Saw her lover's beautiful blue eyes as they flashed with the power of a new Goa'uld.

Finally, exhaustion forced her to stop. She leaned against a tree, holding her stomach. The muscles of her abdomen felt like they were going to burst from her crying. She brushed at her face and looked around, uncertain of which way to go. 'What does it matter? No matter where I go, there's no place to end up. I might as well just run until I die.' She sobbed quietly, taking a deep breath and continuing through the underbrush.

Unbeknownst to the doctor, Osiris had quickly recovered from her assault. The Goa'uld pulled herself to her feet and walked to the pillars that marked the end of the palace and the beginning of the forest. She scanned the terrain and set to follow Janet as best she could. Battered and bloody, she slipped out of the temple and followed what she hoped was the doctor's path.


Section 2 Geonn New Stories Authors & Genre Main Index