Date: 02/04/06
Genre: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Sam/Minister Chaska
Rating: R
Notes: Spoilers for Ethon (9x15). Tonight's episode. But not the end. Because that was cheap.
Summary: I want to drown in her. It's inappropriate and it's sinful and there isn't time.

"Sam," he calls to me, and I force a smile.

People are dead. We're in enemy territory and I shouldn't be thinking about how lonely I feel. How lonely I've been since... has it really been two years? I can't remember the pain anymore. The images play in my head. The sounds. A scent will waft past and I'll remember the stench of the swamp where she died.

I can't feel the pain of losing Promethus. Not yet. I figure I have three days before the numb shock wears off. Three days until I break down in a secondary science lab. I'll sob over an Asgard motherboard and think I'm too old for all this. I should have retired a year ago, before I got anyone killed today.

I know it's my fault. I didn't anticipate the advancements in technology, or the power of the Ori, or my own fucking ability. Geniuses are young. I've used up all of my sun-destroying power, and now people are dead.

Cameron will figure this out, and he'll stop looking at me the way he looks at me. Then I'll know I retired too late.

Teal'c's been there as long as I have. Longer. His relief at seeing me alive is the first pain that cuts me. Neither of us can speak. Neither of us can explain what it's like to see so many dead by our own hands that we think, well, if the other is dead, maybe it's for the best.

He is just like me, the damn soldier, and I want to bury my face in his chest and weep. We made it another minute without being alone.

People are staring. They look away politely when I clear my throat and scan the room.

Their hospitality is nice, but no one's taking it too seriously. The Caledonians aren't stupid. They saw us trying to destroy the satellite and that's what makes them want us. It has nothing to do with nobility, and they can take it away at any moment. Execute us for treason, or for fear, or because they don't have the resources to feed us anymore.

They're not stupid.

I keep telling myself that, and hoping desperately that it isn't true, because I like the way Minister Chaska is looking at me. She's sizing me up, as if she already knows what Cameron hasn't had a chance to brag about; I'm the most dangerous woman in the room.

She's the most powerful. I see the burdens sloping her shoulders. I see the ravages of war, of losing, etched in her face and the paleness of her skin. She talks about missle attacks she's launched against Rand. She doesn't talk about success.

I want to drown in her. It's inappropriate and it's sinful and there isn't time. She meets my eyes. I look down. My boots have dust on them. Little shards of metal I know are from Prometheus. The ship doesn't exist anymore. The dust is all that's left. I lift my chin to look at her again.

Then I look at Teal'c. I can't just walk away--

"Yo, Teal'c." Cameron is thumping his abdomen. "They got this under control. Let's you and I find ourselves a steak."

Teal'c inclines his head.

Cameron heads for the door. He knows he won't be needed until the kamakaze run, so he can cool his heels and wait for me to devise the best way for him to die. He trusts that I'll come up with something spectacular. I squeeze Teal'c's arm. Cameron tosses a half-hearted salute. "Glad you're alive, Sam."

I know he means it. I know he doesn't know what it means.

Chaska's waiting. I walk in her direction.

* * *

She has quarters deep underground. The single room is elegant and sparse. I've seen her not flinch when talking to a superior, enemy military force, and I've seen her accept a shipload of aliens, also enemies, into her airspace with the grace only a leader utterly broken by war can possess. So I'm ready when she pushes me against the closed door and covers my mouth with her own.

Her hands rove my body. She hasn't even offered me a drink, just her heat, burning my neck when her hands brush my skin. Enflaming my lips when her tongue darts between them.

I didn't expect her to taste so good.

Her clothes are easier to discard than mine, so I've got her naked before she's even opened my jacket. She steps away, breathing hard. The lighting is dim; she didn't bother to activate any illumination when we got to her quarters, so it's just emergency lighting along the edge of the ceiling. We could be on a Goa'uld mothership for all I can tell.

Or Stargate Command.

I forget which one of us is the alien. And it doesn't seem to matter, because she's pushing my jacket off my shoulders. The loss of its weight makes me feel exposed, as if she's seeing me without armor. She puts her hands on my abdomen. I let her untuck my shirt and run her fingers along my bare skin. I hold her shoulders and think of kissing her again. But then I wouldn't be able to see her.

My mouth aches. I have to pull away to kneel down and unlace my boots. It's a lengthy process that makes my knee hurt. The silence grows awkward. She goes to turn down the covers. So I'll be sleeping in the ministerial bed. I don't feel entirely deserving, but I'm not going to turn down the opportunity. I rarely experience such lavishness unless a Goa'uld has me chained.

Except, I am chained. No ship. No stargate. Surrounded by enemy forces. Weak. But I'm not about to have sex with her to win favors for my soldiers. I pull off my shirt as I straighten up. My bra follows, and then I kick off my pants. The bed is in a darker corner of the room and I can't read her expression. I wonder if she's disappointed I look like her underneath. Maybe she's relieved. Things will be easier.

Her kisses were ferocious before but it's my mouth that is possessive now. I seize her lips. I hold her to the bed. I rub my body against hers until she growls with need, but I wait until she digs her nails into my shoulders, I wait until it hurts, before sliding my hand between her thighs.

I'm pushing myself against her leg, grunting. Her sweat is salty in my mouth. Her eyes are still unreadable, but in trying to decipher them, I see her lips move.

"What's her name?" She asks it with me over her, with my fingers straining into her like I want to hide in her body, hide behind her war.

I mean to say Janet, but what comes out is, "Earth."

The Ori are coming and our only line of defense just blew up over her planet. So home really doesn't stand a chance. Besides, Janet is alive, somewhere, playing godmother to my baby.

I smile and twist my fingers inside her. She groans. I feel palpatations around my hand. The quiver I know my body mimics, the loss of control that scares her, that draws a faint cry from her lips as she comes. I hold onto her. She thrashes. I press my face between her breasts and don't tell her, ever, that I know what it's like to be her.

* * *

We saved the world. It'll take hours for the two nations to arrange a neutral road to transport us back to the stargate, and kick us off their world. She takes me into the city. She shows me a beautiful apartment that must have been hers before Caledonia lost its superiority over Rand.

Neither of us expected a second opportunity. We make the most of it, and bless our luck, and bless the respite brought about by a man's assassination. It isn't quite the same as the first time. We go slowly, and then we sleep curled up. We're more like old lovers than strangers. And why not live a whole lifetime in two nights? Physics says it's possible.

I'm asleep when the first boom sounds. I sit up straight in bed. I open my eyes to a flash of light. Chaska's standing at the window, and a second flash of light illuminates her. She's naked.

"An attack?" I lean forward, trying to see out the window. The lights flickering over her body are purple. Her skin sparkles. I'm reaching for my radio when she laughs.

"There are fireworks in the streets." She sounds relieved. I throw off the covers and make my way to her, in time to hear her say, "You don't belong here."

"I know."

Her eyes are filled with tears that seem red and green, reflecting the fireworks. "We have to do this on our own. We have to... show that we can."

"I know."

She laughs, and turns away from the window to smile at me. Her hands still grip the windowsill. "Aliens make me uncomfortable. I cannot even abide my own kind."

I take a step closer. "We don't want to rule you. We just want to be friends."

She lets go of the sill, sways a bit, and reaches her hands out to me. I take them. She squeezes my fingers, at first lightly, as if we are two diplomats, and then more tightly, until it almost hurts. I exhale when she raises my hands to her cheek. "Friends. Caledonia has not had a friend in a long time."

I think of Teal'c before I think of Chulak, and say, "I meant... yours."

"We have control of the Stargate, now. We'll visit." She looks sad.

"I'll call."

"And I'll know what it is to set foot on a planet without fear."

When a firework explodes a thousand meters from her window, she flinches.

END