Jacquie's Fan Fic Pages

Five Days

"You there! What are you doing here?" A startled voice greeted them on the other side of the wormhole. Rushing to escape bolts from staff weapons, zat'ni'ki'tels and the advancing Death Gliders, Major Samantha Carter and her Tok'ra companion Martouf had become separated from the rest of their team. Sam's GDO was damaged during the attack, and Martouf had hurriedly dialled the address for the Tok'ra's home base. Earth's stargate was protected by a metal iris which remained closed unless the correct signal was received. Without the GDO to relay their signal to the SGC, gating back to Earth would be a fatal mistake.

Martouf glanced at their surroundings; tropical plants and flowering bushes encompassed the climate, and primitive buildings were scattered in between them and the lake. The air was warm and the humidity had already caused a beading sweat to appear on both himself and Samantha. "This is not the correct world. I must have entered the wrong sequence."

"Well, no harm done, I think." She reassured him, swiftly taking her own survey of the planet.

"Hey! You two, come down from there!"

The voice repeated its demands, and Martouf gazed down to find the face the voice belonged to. He appeared human and sported soft features with contrasting bright red hair. His stature lent authority to the rather mild scolding, and he appeared to be patiently waiting for them to comply.

Martouf ushered Sam down the few steps towards their receiver, smiling diplomatically, "We did not mean you any harm, we arrived here by accident. We will take our leave of you as soon as possible."

"No!" The man commanded harshly. A warm wind blew through the fiery hair of their challenger, matching his rising temper. "It is not permitted for the ring to be used during the Ska'hal'sha'an! You must come with us as our guests, or if necessary as our prisoners."

Lantesh watched through his hosts grey eyes and quickly assessed the probable consequences of violating the demand, sending his thoughts wordlessly to Martouf, "We would prefer as your guests."

"Good, so would we. Come this way please. My name is Dal'han, I am the overseer for the festival."

"I am honoured to meet you," Martouf bowed slightly. "This is Samantha Carter and I am Martouf."

"What are you celebrating?" Sam asked.

"The Ska'hal'sha'an is our most important festival of the season. We celebrate Light and Dark, Life and Death, and the Rebirth of all things. Today is the first of five feast days. You may return through the ring after the day of Rebirth. Come," Dal'han motioned towards the water, "... we shall show you to comforts."

They were led towards a small settlement, only a few hundred meters from the Stargate. The villagers were friendly and curious, and when Dal'han explained they were guests here for the festival, open smiles were exchanged. Colourful banners and exotic looking flowers were hung everywhere and matched the clothing of the population, what little there was of it. The men simply wore an off-white cloth wrapped around their middle and between their legs tied elegantly around the waist. The women were donned in multi-coloured, long wrap-around skirts with a sari crossed around and concealing their breasts. Many of the women and all the girls wore flowers in their hair.

"Samantha, I do not think we are in any danger by staying here. It would be more harmful to try and go through the gate."

"I agree, and by respecting their wishes I think it should be okay. But five days?" She sighed slightly, apparently thinking it over.

He grinned at her, "When was the last time you were stranded on a planet of such beauty?"

"With the luck SG-1 has?" She questioned. "Never. You?"

"Once or twice," he admitted mysteriously. "But not for a very long time, and never with you." Martouf looked at the ground before gazing up over at her, adding a playfulness to his smile, his eyes echoing the words.

She sought his glance, and found herself caught between his soft grey eyes and his infectious smile. Not for the first time, either. She did not have conscious memories of him before their first meeting in the desert, but Jolinar's memories sometimes nearly surfaced when she dreamed. And every so often in moments between dreaming and waking she would find herself paralysed not with fear but enraptured with joy. She experienced this for herself when they had joined hands in the desert so long ago, and again, here, she found herself immersed within him, not even needing the benefit of touch.

"We are here. This will be your dwelling for the duration of the festival. I hope it is sufficient?"

Dal'han disrupted her thoughts, and Martouf broke the trance answering him, "Yes, thank-you."

"You may roam freely through the village. The lake behind the dwelling is warm, good for recreation and bathing. Sustenance will be provided as you require, and at sunset you will join us for the first night of the celebration. If you have any other needs please do not hesitate to ask for me."

To Sam, the cottage looked like something out of travel brochure. A cross between a rustic log cabin and a grass hut. It was sparsely furnished with several chairs, a table, and a bed hewn out of white wood, fitted together with iron finishings. There was only one room to the hut, with a small area partitioned off with curtains that appeared to be a bathroom. Dal'han had showed them how to work the pump for water, and a wooden bucket was full of the newly drawn liquid. Everything was simple and immaculate, tastefully decorated with rough, woven textiles in bright colours. She could get used to this, she thought as she sat down on the nearest chair. "You have been very generous, thank-you."

"Until this evening." Dal'han nodded and hurriedly left the hut, undoubtably off to take care of the preparations for the evening's events.

A moment of quiet passed. "What would you like to do first?" Martouf asked her, gazing through the window towards the water.

"I don't know. I would love to take a shower and get cleaned up, but..."

"What about the lake? Dal'han said it was for bathing and swimming."

"I would..." She wavered.

"Do you know how to swim?" He asked, concerned.

Sam glared at him."Of course I can swim."

"Why are you hesitant, then?"

"I didn't remember to bring a swimsuit." She admitted.

A look of surprise clouded his face. "The Tau'ri wear special clothes to swim?"

"Usually, though not always." Sam felt a little defensive of her culture, or maybe it was just herself. "Let me guess, the Tok'ra don't wear anything when they swim."

"No, it would be like wearing clothes while bathing, however I will wear my underclothing if it would make you feel more comfortable."

"Okay, I'll... do the same. Let's go."

They walked the few steps down to the water's edge together, and sat down on the fine, white sand. Sam grabbed a handful and let the grains fall through her fingers as Martouf began to undo the straps on his boots. She stared down at her own boots, quickly untying them as she stared into the still waters of the lake. It was beautiful here, she thought, and peaceful. A paradise.

She watched as Martouf began to take off his outer garments, and was amazed at just how many different layers there were. His belt seemed to be made of several different pieces and looked like a complex puzzle to remove. She wondered how long it would take her to undo it, and quickly buried the thought when she realised where it was leading.

Unhooking his shoulder strap Martouf turned to observe Sam who was still completely dressed. "You are still planning on joining me, aren't you?"

"Yeah, of course." She pulled herself out of her reverie. "Sorry. I was just wondering what the significance of that piece was?" She asked, referring to the wing he wore over one shoulder.

"It is a symbol of status amongst the Tok'ra military. Depending on which shoulder it is worn on, and the cloth it is made from and edged with, it delineates rank." He explained.

"That's interesting. I thought I noticed you wearing it on a different side the last time we met. I'm curious, how do fit into your military structure?"

"I am a fairly well-respected leader amongst our people. After the spy, Kordesh, was executed I was ameliorated to a higher position with more responsibility. Jacob told me you have been promoted to the rank of major, very recently. How does your military show rank?"

"We wear pins and badges." She answered, taking a deep breath and pulling off her pants. She was a bit nervous stripping here in front of him, but she was determined not to show it. He didn't seem to think anything of taking his clothes off in front of her.

"I have never seen you with either pins or badges that would indicate rank."

"We don't wear them when we're on a mission." She answered, removing her black t-shirt. "I'm ready. Let's go."

"After you," he gestured, and watched as Samantha ran down the sandy incline to the water. Having seen her dressed only in the shapeless garments of her military, Martouf found himself studying her newly exposed body. Seconds later she dove into the water, leaving him to wonder and follow.

"It's warm!" Sam announced when she surfaced. "Come on in!" Wiping the water from her eyes, she turned to find he had taken leave of all of his clothes, save only a hazel-coloured garment which was only large enough to cover the most personal part of his body. All of the rest was there for her to explore, at least with her eyes, and she didn't waste any time in doing so.

He waded into the water after her, slowly making his way to where she was standing waist deep, staring at him. He could feel her eyes on his body, and he reflected her gaze. They stood facing each other, completely transfixed and for a moment everything else ceased to exist... and when he reached for her hand, she willingly gave it to him.

"Samantha," he breathed and grinning he leapt up and pushed her into the water...

*****

They spent most of the late afternoon in the waters of the lake or sitting on its shore, quietly talking. After Martouf dunked Sam into the water, she retaliated and a playful water fight had ensued breaking the tension built between them. The water was tepid, encouraging a lengthy soak and before long the sky started to show brilliant colours as the sun continued its descent.

No longer dripping with water, Samantha lay flat on her back, digging her heels into the sand. A warm wind fluttered by and she found herself amazed at the feel of it on her slightly damp skin. She had never entertained the thought of taking a vacation to a tropical paradise. Somehow going halfway across the world in order to lie on a beach somewhere and do nothing never appealed to her. Of course, this was halfway across the galaxy, she reminded herself, and she wasn't here on vacation, nor was she here by choice. Still, she felt more relaxed here in one afternoon than in the past year at home.

Sitting up, she continued to bury her feet into the sand as she glanced over at her sleeping companion. She had been watching him as he dozed on and off for the last hour, and was studying the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was almost an enigma, she thought. Almost, but not quite. Sometimes she seemed to know almost everything about him, well what Jolinar knew about him, but although the flashes of memory were vivid, her conscious mind refused to take stock of all the details. What little remained were scattered fragments of disjointed information, some of which made sense and some of which remained alien to her mind. She did know what kind of a man he was, and not all of that was relayed through Jolinar. Some of which she had the pleasure of finding out for herself.

"How long have you been watching me sleep?" A quiet familiar voice interrupted her contemplation. She had thought he was still asleep, he was lying still on the sand, with his eyes closed.

"As long as you've been asleep," she teased, pausing for a moment. "Okay, about an hour. The sun is beginning to set though, it's probably time to go and join the villagers for the feast."

He sat up, gazing into the sky, "Yes, we should go. Although, I have enjoyed this afternoon immensely."

"I have, too." She agreed, sharing his smile. "I don't get to spend much time like this back home, doing nothing but relaxing and playing in the water. And, I didn't know the Tok'ra actually knew how to have fun."

"What would be the point of fighting the System Lords for an existence with no joy?" He asked, thinking about how little she remembered of Tok'ra culture.

She looked surprised, "I never thought of it that way. What kind of a social life do you have?"

"I..." He started, looking down suddenly at the ground. "I have not made much time for a social existence since..."

"Since Jolinar." She finished for him, her own head bowing slightly, mirroring his. "I'm sorry. I should have realised."

"No, you would have no way of knowing. Please, do not be sorry." Martouf reassured her as Lantesh inwardly reassured him.

"It must be really hard for you knowing that I can remember some of Jolinar's memories, especially of you. I feel like an intruder in your life."

"You are not an intruder, Samantha." His eyes anchored on hers seeking a temporary solace from his own memories of his former mate. The last two years had been very difficult for both him and Lantesh. At the thought, Lantesh silently expressed his:

'We really need to discuss this with her.'
'Not now.'
'Soon, Martouf. This place has given us the opportunity and the time.'
'Alright, but you must let me choose the timing.'
'Agreed.'

"Let's go and join the celebration, okay?" He continued, reaching for her hand and upon finding it, gave her a gentle encouraging squeeze. "But first, I think maybe we should put our clothes back on. Do you agree?"

Laughing, she met his questioning smile with one of her own, and nodded, "Clothes, then food."

"Good, I'm starving." He replied, as they dressed quickly and headed for the village square.

*****

Upon their arrival in the square, they were spotted immediately by Dal'han who motioned for them to join him. Slowly making their way through the crowds of brightly dressed natives, Sam marvelled at the elaborate table settings piled high with food. There were pottery bowls and platters of all sizes heaped with breads, fish, fruits and other unidentifiable dishes. A type of squash had been exquisitely carved and held a rice-like substance. Hollowing out vegetables must be universal, she thought to herself, laughing quietly.

"You will join us as our guests." Dal'han instructed showing them to a low wooden table, "Come, sit here." He ushered Sam to sit cross-legged on a red, woven cushion which was long enough for Martouf to share as well.

"I would like to thank-you for your hospitality, Dal'han." Martouf offered.

"You are both welcomed, it is rare for strangers to arrive, especially during the festival." Dal'han acknowledged, sitting down across from them. A dark-haired woman appeared next to him and sat down, sharing his seat. "Sha'lan, my mate of the Third Decree, this is Martouf and Samantha, visitors from the ring."

"Honoured," Martouf clasped his hands together as he bowed his head in formal greeting.

"What happens during the feast?" Sam asked, looking around at all the waiting celebrants. A young girl with hair so blond it was almost white, caught her eye. She was spinning around and around, and several of the flowers in her long hair flew out of their fastenings and fell into the waiting hands of one of the boys standing beside her. He took the girl's hand and they sat down at a table together. Interesting custom, Sam thought.

"Tonight's feast is very informal. We eat, share stories, dance and stay up to greet the sunrise in celebration of the Light of the Unending Sun." With a sly looking smile, Dal'han rose from the pillow, "Come, Martouf. Let us gather food to share and let the women speak."

As Sam watched the two men leave, Sha'lan and several other women moved closer to her and sat down. A couple of them were giggling and pointing at a group of men near one of the food tables. Sam smiled politely, and felt a tug on the sleeve of her jacket. One of the women handed her a cup full of sweet smelling liquid. "Thank-you," she said as she accepted and took a sip finding it rather pleasant. "It's wonderful."

"Now, Samantha," Sha'lan addressed her, smiling. "Tell us of Martouf."

*****

Only crumbs and dregs remained of the once heaped platters of food, the feasters having devoured the rest hours ago, and after many hours of sitting listening to storytelling, they were on their feet swaying with the mirthful sounds emanating from the musicians.

Sam and Martouf watched as the natives of the planet danced with each other, everyone joining in to some extent. The children, the young and old alike. Complex circle dances were performed, and Sam remembered what Daniel had told her about circle dances. How they were often a form of ritual, building up power and then releasing it. She was fascinated by the line dances as the participants got caught up in the twisting lines of celebrants, one line of dancers intersecting another and the resulting laughter whenever someone let go of their partners. It was a merry war of arms and bodies, and she found herself giggling at the sight of it.

"Come on," Martouf urged her, offering both hands to help her up. "Let's join them."

She answered only with a grin and allowed him to lead the way towards the end of the closest line. They danced with the villagers long into the night, stopping only to quench their thirst from the huge vats full of sparkling liquid that everyone was partaking of.

Martouf was enjoying himself. The villagers were friendly, the dancing was rousing and the food had been excellent. Samantha was with him. He had never spent so much time in her company, and never without the watchful members of her team. She captivated him with her mere presence, and he did not want to admit to himself how far the bond between them had grown. But Lantesh knew, and although he stayed quiet to protect their identity, he spoke directly to his host:

'She is getting to you.'
'And to you.'
'Of course, I feel what you do.'
'Is that so bad?'
'No, but we must not act prematurely.'
'Have I ever?'
'The desert?'
'Yes, I remember.'

And he did remember, as if it were yesterday and not that over a year had passed. A jumbled year, he pondered, sadness interrupted only by mission after mission and occasionally by the thought of seeing her again. She had brought confirmation of his sorrow upon their first meeting and later, they had walked together in the desert alone, sharing in his loss. During that conversation, he learned about her and her experiences with Jolinar in those last few days, and suddenly she was no longer just a former host, no longer Captain Carter, but simply Samantha.

How he truly wanted to believe he was drawn to her for no other reason than who she was, and not through her connection to his former mate. He had overstepped his bounds by suggesting she become host to Selmak, and had regretted it near the instant the words escaped his lips. After that, he had been more cautious, at least in regards to Lantesh and their symbiotic relationship.

'But I do not regret what happened just before Dr. Jackson interrupted us.'
'Nor do I, Martouf. You know that.'
'Yes, I do.'

The sky above was full of stars whose light was beginning to fade, and dawn was fast approaching, Martouf realised. The older villagers were already starting to disperse and return to their homes, the light of day having been officially recognised, though it appeared that most of the younger population were not yet finished in their celebration. Martouf heard Samantha sigh slightly and his focus returned to her, where it had been most of the evening.

Her hands moved slowly up to her temples, holding her face, and she mumbled drunkenly, "My head is spinning."

"I can assure you, it is not." He smiled, enjoying seeing her so unconstrained. Not since their first meeting had she seemed so totally uninhibited with him, and it wasn't just her current state of intoxication as Martouf remembered the events of the afternoon.

"That was a joke!" She yelled in surprise. "You made a joke!"

"I told you a life with no joy was not worth living." Laughter filled his voice as he reminded her.

"I Ômember..."

"Are you sure?" He said, with another gentle tease.

"Now you're making fun of me." She pouted, her speech becoming more slurred.

"Now, I'm going to take you back to the hut."

"Why?"

He thought about it for a moment before answering, struggling to keep a straight face, with only a trace of a smile breaking through. "If we do not go now, I am certain that later, I would have to carry you."

"And that would be bad, right?" She was giggling at the thought.

"Not really Samantha, however..." Martouf paused for a moment, "I think now would be more appropriate. We do not want to offend our host. Dal'han is waiting for us."

"Oh." She looked up at him, smiling. "I trust your judgment, Martouf. Lead the way." She took his proffered arm, and with his help, she didn't stumble once on the way back to their shared hut.

In the morning when she awoke, she didn't remember when they had come back to the hut, or that Dal'han and his wife had accompanied them, and she most certainly did not remember taking all her clothes off.

Or that Martouf had done the same.

*****

"Martouf?" A slightly reddened Sam Carter reached out with one hand to wake her still sleeping companion. Her other hand was holding the blanket close to her body in a feeble attempt at recovering her modesty. Upon awakening she discovered her lack of clothing more from the itchy feel of the blanket covering her than from anything else. She didn't think too much of it however, she had started sleeping in the nude as soon as she had her own apartment. It just made sense, and she enjoyed the feel of sleek cotton sheets on her bare skin. But here, she wasn't at home, she wasn't lying between soft worn sheets, and she wasn't alone.

The last fact had become blatantly obvious when just after recognising the sensation of bare skin against blanket, the next thing she recognised was the sensation of bare skin against bare skin.

Up to this point, her sleepy brain hadn't mustered enough thought to send the signal to open her eyes. Now they fluttered open, wide enough to see what her mind was attempting to explain to her. Martouf was beside her, as naked as she was, lying on his side, his back towards her. She had woken up curled into his back with her arm lying on his hip. An... interesting way to begin the day, she thought wondering just exactly what had happened last night. Before she could entertain any more random thoughts she was interrupted.

"I am here, Samantha. Are you alright?" A familiar, though sleepy voice asked.

"Fine. I just... don't know what happened to my... um... clothes?" She tried to sound nonchalant, but knew she was not succeeding.

"They were taken from us last night, after the feast when we came back to our quarters." Martouf offered as he turned over to face her.

He didn't seem at all distressed by their situation. And why would he be, she thought to herself, the Tok'ra hold no secrets from each other. As she caught sight of his hairless chest, she allowed herself to briefly wonder just how far that tenet went before admitting to him, "I don't remember."

"The drink we were given made you forget." His sleepy smile interrupted by a yawn. "Lantesh protects me from that particular side effect. According to Dal'han, our attire was not very appropriate for the festival. We will be given new clothes."

"And until then?"

"Until then, we have been instructed to remain here."

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to add.

A concerned look marred his handsome features, "Does this trouble you?"

"Only a bit," she admitted, her eyes tracing the outline of his body beneath the blanket.

"Why?"

Trust Martouf to ask point blank questions, she thought. "On earth, usually only couples in... relationships are comfortable being nude in front of each other. And sometimes not even then."

"I see." He said, though clearly he didn't.

"You said taken from us?" She recalled his words, suddenly very worried about what that might mean.

"Yes. After we disrobed, Dal'han took our clothes."

"So I took off my own clothes?" She couldn't hide the relief in her voice, and despite her efforts a small smile sprung to her lips.

"Yes," he said, giving the confirmation she was looking for.

"And then what happened?"

"Then we laid down on this bed, and slept." He recounted for her, assisting in her quest for her memories of last night.

"Oh," and again, she couldn't think of anything else to say. Of course nothing had happened between them, she thought. Martouf was a gentleman and she wondered if he ever lost control. She doubted it, but wondered if his fiery symbiote ever did. She did remember how passionate he could he, well, both of them really, in the truest sense of the word. But they were not her memories.

"Did you expect anything else would happen without your consent?" He asked frowning, worried she might think so little of him.

"No!" She answered quickly, and a visible look of relief formed on his face. "Of course not, I'm just not used to waking up, not remembering what I've done the night before."

Before Martouf could comment, the door rattled loudly startling them both. "I have brought you more suitable clothing!" Dal'han's deep voice protruded through the wood. "I will leave them here for you. Martouf, your plans for the day have been approved by the council as long as you conduct yourselves according to the code we discussed last night. I will meet you later to instruct you in the manner of tonight's rites. Until then..."

"Thank-you Dal'han, we will change right away!" Martouf answered quickly. They heard his footfalls disappear down the stairs, and were again left alone, still sans clothes and together in the bed.

"What kind of plans did you make, and what code was he talking about?" Sam asked curiously.

"The plans are my secret to share with you later," he answered, mysteriously. "The festival code requires us to fast until tonight's ritual, and sexual unions are forbidden until the day of Rebirth."

"Well, I'll be sure not to break the rules, then." She smiled casually at him as he sat up, the covers falling down to his waist. She watched as he returned her glance and then twisted away from her, standing up. As she was about to ask where he was going, she caught her first glimpse of him au natural and instantly forgot whatever it was that she was going to say.

He was beautiful.

His body was smooth, tanned and taut in all the right places. He appeared naturally thin, but she could see the slight bulges of muscle groups throughout his arms, legs and chest. As he walked towards the door of their small hut she had a clear view of the front of his body. Averting her eyes never occurred to her, she was mesmerised by him. He was well --

"I think these ones are yours." He said grinning, throwing two bright blue pieces of fabric her way, as he quickly pulled on his, tying it in an approximate copy of the native style.

"Oh! Thanks. I'll... go change in the washroom." She dropped the blanket, grabbed the clothes and hurried to change not really caring if Martouf was watching. He apparently had already seen everything there was to see, and now it didn't seem to be as much of a problem as she had originally thought. Fair was fair, after all...

"You look absolutely beautiful, Samantha." He commented when she emerged from behind the curtain. After a minute of appreciation, he reached for her hand guiding her towards the door. "Now, if you are ready, I thought we would explore beyond the settlement."

*****

What was left of the afternoon went quickly with Sam and Martouf exploring the outer regions of the village. Ruins of an ancient civilisation littered the inland with massive stone carvings of long forgotten goddesses. Some of which were nearly intact. Long grasses hid former walkways and made for an interesting journey. Once, Martouf had found himself separated from Samantha by nothing more than thick, interwoven vines within a single tree and they had laughed standing on either side of the natural fence. Their fingers touching through the branches. He smiled as he remembered the moment, suddenly wishing he was stranded with her for much longer than just five days.

They returned to their hut just before sunset, as was required by the Ska'hal'sha'an and discovered a earthenware bowl filled with blood red liquid encircled by a round loaf of bread laid out on the table. Dal'han had instructed them in the required ritual early in the afternoon, it being a fasting day until sunset, after which they would share the bread and wine. A single candle was permitted in each house, to be lit during the meal after which the village would shrouded in darkness.

"Shall we begin?" Martouf asked and as his companion nodded he lit the candle beginning the private ceremony.

Sam looked a little nervous as she recited the unfamiliar words, "Tonight we celebrate the dark. May we remember that before there was anything, the dark ruled the world. There can be no light without dark, no day without night, no beginnings without an end. We celebrate the dark, this night, and remember to cherish its end."

As Sam finished the foreign litany, Martouf pulled off a section of the bread, dipped it in the wine and offered it directly into her mouth. She returned the traditional gesture, and smirked a bit as her fingers left his lips.

As her gentle touch faded away, Martouf couldn't help wondering what had made her smile, "What is it?"

"Well," she started, laughing. "On Earth, in my culture, the only time anyone feeds each other in a kind of ritual is during weddings. The bride and groom offer each other a piece of their wedding cake, and sometimes they mash it into each others faces."

"Really," he answered, always interested in learning more about Tau'ri customs. When time allowed between meetings and missions, he often spent many hours with Jacob asking him about Earth and about his daughter.

"Yeah," A sly grin appeared on her face as she dipped another piece and held it in front of his mouth teasingly. Her eyes threatened to betray her intent. "Just like this!"

Martouf moved to capture her wrist just a moment too late as she squished the wine soaked bread over his handsome face. Drops of slightly sticky sweet liquid ran down his chin. He glanced at her with feigned sternness, before asking, "Does this mean that we are married?"

"No, sorry. There's a bit more to it than that." She whispered truthfully, staring into his dancing grey eyes. Her arm was still within his grasp across the table and she stood up, inching closer to him.

As their eyes locked, she reached up and gently probed his cheek with her hand. Her touch leaving a tangible trace of her essence on his skin and as her thumb explored his chin wiping away the remnants of the wine, he found himself at an impasse. He was overcome with desire for her but resisted for the sake of his symbiote. This was not meant to happen. At least not yet.

'Martouf...'
'What? I will not give in if you are not ready.'
'Let me talk to her.'

As she withdrew her hand, Martouf bowed his head, allowing Lantesh to control their shared body and alerting the beautiful woman so close to him of the change, "Samantha, I am sorry the mission did not go as planned."

"That's okay, we'll get back in a few days." She smiled at him, she hadn't spoken with him in a very long time. "I'm glad you're here, I have wondered about your absence, and I would love to ask you a few things, if that's okay?"

He nodded, "Of course, you may ask me anything. I have been silent to protect our identity on this planet, but you already knew that. What did you wish to speak with me about?" His voice resounded with the vibration that signalled the Tok'ra symbiote was now in charge.

"Quite a few things, actually. I have... a whole bunch of questions that I'd really like some answers to." Without any preamble she got straight to the point. "We went through a hell of a lot on Naetu. Forgive the pun. Why were you so quiet? You didn't speak to me once."

He smiled in an attempt to placate her. "Martouf and I decided it would be better if I did not."

"Why?" She asked.

"Our prior meeting did not go well."

"So?"

"So," He repeated, "We thought it better for Martouf to handle that situation. You did not need any more... distractions. Dealing with your father, trying to recall Jolinar's method of escape from Naetu--"

"Why do think our previous meeting didn't go well?" She asked, confused.

"I insulted you. And your people." He conceded.

"True. You were rather harsh."

"Actually I was fairly restrained."

"Oh?" She responded, intrigued but clearly concerned about what exactly that meant.

"If you had listened to me in the first place and sent Apophis through the Chaapa'ai, Sokar would not have attacked your iris." Before he had even finished speaking, Martouf spoke directly into his mind:

'Lantesh! We've been through this.'
'Not with her.'
'We feared for her safety and the rest of the Tau'ri, but now it is over.'

"Is that another I told you so?" She bit back, unaware of her interruption, thinking of Martouf's reaction to Apophis turning up alive in the depths of hell.

"It is a fact." Came the cold reply, well aware of the way it was affecting Samantha. He didn't want to hurt her, so why was he doing this?

'You know why, Lantesh. Stop deceiving yourself!'

"We could not turn him over until we had explored all other alternatives, can't you see that?" Her voice was edged in frustration.

"There were no alternatives, it was the only way to save the Tau'ri." He was still unable to comprehend why they had waited so long before turning Apophis over to Sokar. "Consider what happened to you on Naetu, would you still be so willing to let your enemy live?"

"That bastard did save my life." She was still reconciling Apophis' actions in her mind.

"Only so he could torture you and extract information. If we had not escaped when we did, he would have killed us all." His chin held firm along with the rest of him.

"Which the Tok'ra very nearly did in his place!" Sam countered.

"We did what was necessary, and Sokar was destroyed in the process. Our sacrifice would not have been in vain. Jolinar would have understood this!"

"I understood that, too." She responded angrily through clenched teeth, and then loosing her control, she railed at him, "... but I am not Jolinar!"

Her words stung. She was right. Samantha Carter had finally said that she was not his dead mate, and hearing her words he just then finally accepted it. He had not wanted to see the truth, to see only Samantha. His host had understood long before he had, and Lantesh found that troubling, he had always thought himself emotionally stronger than Martouf. Now he felt woefully inferior in choosing his next words, "I am sorry, Samantha. You are correct. I have been..." He hesitated, sending a silent plea to his host:

'Martouf...?'
'Not this time. You brought it up. You will have to deal with the consequences.'

"... a fool. Forgive me. Martouf has been trying to get me to truly comprehend this for months. He has seen you beyond Jolinar and I ... I was not ready to see only you. I wanted to keep you at a distance, so I wouldn't feel as if I were betraying her. I am sorry." He hoped his words accurately conveyed the remorse he felt.

"You weren't betraying her--"

"I felt as though I was." He interrupted her and then in a quiet voice, he continued, "Please, let me explain?"

He began again at her barely visible nod, "On Naetu, I was... overwhelmed by your individual strength, your ingenuity and intelligence. The way in which even during your greatest trials your heart reached out to all who needed you, Martouf and I included." He looked deeply into her blue eyes. "I realised then what he had known for months, that he... that we, care for you a great deal. Samantha, I ..." Heeding a suggestion from someone only he could hear, he stopped talking and moved silently towards her.

As he reached for her, she turned away from him, looking through a window up towards the stars. Lantesh considered her retreat for a moment and hesitated briefly before deciding to pursue his intent. "I must be sure what I feel for you is not borne solely of Jolinar. Not to do so would only hurt us both."

At his words she spun around slowly, taking in their meaning. "I know... believe me, I know."

Lantesh walked the short distance to the table, extinguished the flame of the single candle and the hut plunged into darkness. He made his way back to Samantha, the lack of light not hampering his dexterity in the least thanks to decades of practice, and finding her hands he gently tugged her down until she joined him on the bed. Suddenly pleased with her lack of resistance, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers, an intimate gesture amongst his people. And as if she remembered, her hands sought his face in return.

Sleep came easily that night. A peaceful evening stolen away from the rest of the universe, as they slept soundly in one another's arms, the code of the Ska'hal'sha'an still intact. But one step closer to being broken.

*****

Samantha awoke to find Martouf already risen and swimming in the lake. Through a small window in the hut she observed his movements, pondering everything that had happened the night before. His admission of affection and his hesitation to act upon it, her own attachment to him and her escalating need to express it to him. And not solely with words.

Momentarily distracted by his muscular body, she thought of the last man she had bedded and quickly put the thought out of her mind. It really had been a long time. Not that opportunities never arose, she just didn't have a guy on every planet. She had kissed only one, and held hands with another. Though the other... she had vivid memories of exactly how passionately he made love with his former mate. Closing her eyes to focus on the illicit thoughts, a tremor of guilty pleasure jumped from her mind to her body, as she remembered Martouf's experienced hands moving down her -- and suddenly it was real. The same pair of hands lightly brushed her arms reaching to cradle the roundness of her shoulders. She relaxed into his gentle embrace, sinking back into his arms. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Samantha. I hope I did not disturb you when I left the hut. I didn't wish to wake you."

"You didn't." She answered assuringly, struggling not to show how much he was affecting her. "How's the water this morning?"

"Wonderful. As are many other things." He wrapped his arms tightly around her clasping her hands, before spinning her around to face him. "I must thank-you for last night. I know it was hard to hear some of those things, Lantesh can be very acerbic with his words."

"He can also be very, passionate in his... opinions wouldn't you agree."

His eyes grew wide as he heard his own words from nearly a year ago, reflected back to him, edged with unmistakable flirtatious banter. He smiled approvingly, his eyes fixed on hers, "Yes, I would."

Still enraptured by her earlier thoughts, and very aware of his proximity, she remembered to breathe. Apparently something she had been forgetting to do for awhile. Reminding herself of the latter part of last night's conversation with Lantesh, she attempted to sublimate her feelings and instead offered, "What's on the agenda for today?"

If he noticed her sudden change in conversational direction, his expression did not betray it. "We are required to meet in the square at midday for instruction in today's ritual. After a communal breakfast in the main hall. Shall we go?"

"Of course, I'm starving." She answered.

He looked at her as if he was going to say something, but smiled instead, not letting go of one hand the short distance back to the village.

*****

Breakfast was an amazing feast. More unique kinds of fruit than Samantha or Martouf had ever seen were exquisitely cut and artistically arranged on platters. There were buckets of cooked shellfish, braided breads, and pitchers of sweet watered wine. The beginning of the Day of Life was quite an extravaganza, and the festivities were only just starting.

After the meal, Dal'han briefly explained the activities for the remainder of the day, and ushered them quietly down through a side street to a vendor of his choosing. The lane was buzzing with activity, embroidered banners fluttered, and merchants were doing a great business. The cart in front of them was richly painted with strips of flowing motifs, ranging from simple geometrical to floral in design. A short, balding man instantly greeted them and eyed both the strangers, nodding at their host.

"These are beautiful."

The artist smiled at Samantha's praise, adding, "You must choose a colour for the engraving."

"Engraving?" Martouf inquired, taken aback by what this might mean.

"Yes." Dal'han once again instructed them, pointing to one of three similar designs encircling his upper arm. "You will be bonded with a pattern you will both share. Such as this one."

"Like a tattoo," Sam added.

"A tattoo?" A very curious Martouf asked, wondering again about Tau'ri culture and what this particular Tau'ri knew about the painting of bodies.

"Yes, some people on my world choose to mark their skin with artwork similar to this. Is it permanent?"

"No," the artist assured her, grinning at Dal'han. "The Primary engraving will last but a year."

Martouf posed a question Lantesh wanted answered. "Are the colours or patterns meant to symbolise anything in particular?"

"No, it is just personal preference, but you must both agree."

"Samantha?" Martouf inquired. "Which would you choose?"

"This shade of blue reminds me of the crystal formations of the..." She hesitated briefly, alluding to Tok'ra tunnels. "Of your home world."

"It reminds me more of the colour of your eyes." He stated, staring into those pools of azure. Tearing his gaze away from her and turning back to Dal'han he asked, "May we have a minute?"

"Yes, but do not take too long to decide, Fal'hal is a very busy engraver. The village's finest, he is doing this as a favour to me."

"It will not take long," he promised. When they were out of hearing range he continued, "Samantha, is this engraving okay with you? I would not force something upon you that you do not want, even if it means offending our hosts."

"It's a little unexpected." She admitted. "But if it's not permanent, then I can live with it. What do you think?"

"I think the mark will remind us of our time here." She smiled at his words, and he found himself wishing the engraving would last longer than a year. Not that he needed a physical memory of her when the mental image had already been carved into his shared mind. "Are you ready?"

*****

After the visit to the engraver, which surprisingly had not been painful (the engraver apparently having been misnamed -- the designs were in fact, merely painted on, and not ingrained into the skin), Sam and Martouf found themselves separated until just before the evening's ceremony. Martouf spent the afternoon with the men of the village, engaging in physical contests, eating, drinking and crafting needed items for the ritual.

Sam played with the children after having been bathed and pampered by the women. She didn't think she had ever been so relaxed or quite as clean. As they helped prepare her for the evening, the women sang and told stories of their men. She joined in when she could about Martouf, being careful not to reveal anything sensitive about his nature, and passed entirely on the lively speculative discussion of his physical and sexual prowess. She denied nothing and confirmed even less. She did appreciate that the women didn't push the subject, affording her some privacy. They seemed content just to guess.

Sitting down after a rousing game of tag in the square, a young girl approached her asking if she would assist in braiding her hair. Although it had been a while, Sam agreed when the girl told her it was good luck to have each braid laced by a different woman, and so she sat with the girl busily trying to keep the braid as tidy as the many others which covered her head. She did not notice the approach of the afternoon's most popular postulations.

"Samantha, this is for you." Martouf bowed, offering her an elegant headdress of flowers. The girl giggled, and kissed Sam on the cheek before quickly running away. "I am told all the women of the village must wear a crown of flowers to participate in the ritual, and they are traditionally crafted by either father or husband. Though I wish to stand in as your husband rather than your father, if that is okay?"

"It's beautiful, thank-you." She was overwhelmed with his creativity and thoughtfulness. The garland was constructed with huge purple and white blossoms, with smaller buds and flowers trailing down in ribbons at the back. It smelled absolutely divine. "Well, seeming that I already have a father, I think you would make a more than acceptable substitute for a husband."

"Good." He looked pleased. "Now if only Jacob would approve."

"You don't think my father would approve?" She asked, not believing he wouldn't for an instant. Not that it was any of his business.

"I am not sure. When we get back I could inquire--"

"Martouf!" She chided. "You're teasing me."

"Yes, I am. Shall we go?"

"You wouldn't really ask my father something like that, would you?" An incredulous tone tagged her voice as she spoke.

"Jacob and I have discussed many things, Samantha."

He was definitely teasing her now, being deliberately evasive, and Sam wondered if he had been taking lessons from her father. "And?"

"And, we must go now or we'll be late." He grinned, continuing his mild verbal jest. She swatted at him playfully, taking the opportunity to grab his hand in the process, and led him away to the feast hall.

*****

As the sun began to set, the older women gathered all the young females of the village, and escorted them towards the village square. Sam followed near the end of the line close to Sha'lan, her self-appointed tutor for the night.

"You must take this and for each kiss you receive you mark the man who kisses you." She instructed, handing Sam a small glass container. "When Martouf has three marks from different women, you may claim him by publicly acknowledging the beginning of the hunt as I have instructed you. Do you understand Samantha?"

"I suppose," she mumbled. Sha'lan had explained the ritual in its entirety to her earlier, though the details were a little fuzzy due to the amount of wine she had imbibed. The whole ritual sounded a little suspect to her, she was not something to be hunted, but Dal'han's wife explained the whole rite was technically in her hands. Nothing would happen without her participation, she was being honoured as the principal woman in his life. And she had also been reminded that anything other than kisses were strictly forbidden. She couldn't see the harm in it, so she acquiesced. Besides, she thought, it might be fun.

"Please do not worry, the kisses exchanged are symbolic. You and Martouf share the mark of the Primary engraving, no one will challenge this." Sha'lan assured her.

"I've been meaning to ask what that means, specifically?" Her hazy mind remembered to question.

But Sha'lan just shushed her, "It is time."

Floods of murmuring people came swiftly to silence as Dal'han signalled a group of drummers to begin their rhythm. Soon after, the two groups of men and women quickly interacted, and giggles emanated from hordes of young girls as they ran sporadically seeking a chosen boy.

Sam tried not to feel uncomfortable participating in the ritual. Though she had agreed to take part, she felt self-conscious dressed in the native clothing, donned with the crown of flowers. Thank God her team wasn't here, or she would never hear the end of it. Going native was something Daniel seemed to be comfortable with, not her. At least Martouf was here, somewhere within the crowd, and she was determined to find him quickly, hoping he already fulfilled his kiss quota. She laughed quietly to herself as she thought about how the exchange of kisses was similar to mistletoe at Christmas. She wondered if Dad had discussed that cultural tradition with Martouf.

"May I collect a kiss from you?" A young male asked politely, breaking her out of her daze. He was about the same height as she was, with coal black hair and looked a bit like Lt. Simmons. She absently wondered how Graham would react to an chance like this.

"Of course," she replied forcing a smile, a sense of awkwardness coming over her. The boy seemed to share her embarrassment, and reached up and gave each of her cheeks a soft peck. He averted his eyes and waited expectantly, as she remembered to mark his chest with the small pot of paint she had been given. The boy smiled and blushed, running to a group of his friends who had been witness to the exchange. Sam laughed as the boys whistled and seemingly congratulated the boldness of their peer, asking the blond-haired stranger for a kiss.

"He would be very young for you, Samantha." Martouf whispered into her ear.

"Maybe, but are you really one to mention age? I mean you are considerably older than I am." She retaliated, doing her best to duplicate his teasing tone.

"Not entirely." He expressed mysteriously before adding, "Lantesh is very much older than you, but I am not."

"Really," Sam remarked with disbelief. "But you and Jolinar were together for nearly one hundred years."

"And so we were. But for some of those years, Lantesh was blended with a previous host," Martouf explained.

"So when you underwent the blending, Lantesh and Jolinar were already mated?" She asked, certain now of the answer from some shadowy recess in her memory.

"Yes," he verified. "For almost eighty years."

"Wow," Her face displaying a look of surprise. "I had no idea." She was thinking of all the questions she wanted to ask of him. Knowing this much only made her realize how little she did know about him, and how fragmented her Jolinar memories really were. Of course, she hadn't realised from those memories that Jolinar had been a she either, until their fated meeting on the sand dune. "Will you tell me more about your life, sometime?"

"I will tell you everything, though it will take much longer than our time here." A smile graced his already pleased expression.

"I'll take you up on that." She said, already thinking about when they might possibly get the time to do so. "Do you think the council could spare you for a while sometime? You could come to Earth--"

"Or you could immerse yourself within my culture. It would help you to understand both your father and myself. There are many things we could share with you." He proposed.

"I would like that."

"Martouf! You have only two marks! You are keeping Samantha waiting." Dal'han's wife interrupted, reprimanding the young man in front of her.

"Well, I certainly do not wish to antagonise her any further." He agreed, smiling sweetly before turning to his accuser, "Sha'lan will you share a kiss?"

Sam watched as Martouf lowered his face to the other woman. She saw him slowly lower his lips to meet Sha'lan's, making just the slightest brush against them, teasing her with his own. Sam swallowed as she fought her reaction, a wave of jealousy springing around her mind. Attempting to quash it, she gawked as he deepened the kiss, tugging gently on Sha'lan's lips as he pulled away.

Sha'lan looked at her with an approving glance, showing her appreciation of Martouf's technique, before nodding for her to begin the next phase of the ritual.

She swallowed hard, still fighting the envy in her mind and wondering how much Jolinar had to do with it. Gathering her courage and hopefully her speaking voice, she bellowed pointing to Martouf, "I claim this man as my own! I offer myself in the hunt!"

A small crowd gathered around them, enjoying the first ceremony of the evening. All of the girls in the room rushed through the crowd vying for a better view, awaiting Martouf's reply.

"I accept your gift." He bowed graciously, before adding, "Begone woman! This is after all a chase. Will you allow yourself to be caught so easily?"

Sam stared at him incredulous at his words, until she searched and found his eyes in tune with his teasing smile. She communicated silently with her own glare, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Then after an almost imperceptible nod at Sha'lan, she bolted.

Martouf laughed as the many girls who were observing the exchange showered him with flowers and the women held hands around him forming a barrier, allowing Samantha to escape. Lantesh also used the distraction to his advantage, forcing Martouf to listen:

'You do recognise the nature of this ritual?'
'I believe so.'
'And?'
'And as it is neither Tok'ra nor Tau'ri, we cannot be held to it.'
'So we have participated solely to appease the inhabitants of this world?'
'A union requires intent and mutual consent.'
'Apparently not on this planet. Do you know where to find her?'
'There is only one place she would have gone.'
'Lead the way...'

After a few minutes of being held hostage by flower-decked women and children, Martouf searched the village several times before heading to where he knew Samantha would be. Ending the hunt too quickly was a sign of youth, he had been told. An omen the relationship between them would pass quickly, and as much as this village's rituals would have little bearing on their reality, or so he thought, he couldn't help but not tempt the fates. He was almost at his destination, though he could not yet see the goal of his quest.

His journey had taken him a few hundred meters from the square, along a well worn path. He climbed the ancient stone steps and halted when he reached the top. Staring through the massive ring of metal, he meditated upon the stars and thought of how the Chaapa'ai had brought them together, knowing she was here watching him.

*****

Sam scrutinised his swift approach from the village. She had only considered one place to go to wait for him, and knew he would look here. She studied him from her vantage point, sitting cross-legged behind the DHD. He was gazing into the heavens, a tranquil look of content on his handsome face. Seconds passed, then minutes, and when she did not divulge her position, he turned back towards the water and sat down. He was waiting for her.

"I will remain as long as it takes for you to reveal yourself, Samantha." He spoke quietly, smiling in the moonlight. "I know you are there."

She hesitated for another moment, pausing to enjoy the view, and then having had enough of sitting by herself, she rose from her hiding place. "Aren't you going to try and catch me?" She questioned, a trace of mock disappointment inherent in her voice.

"I would rather you were willing to come and sit with me." He told her, holding out a hand, coaxing her toward him. "However, if you would like me to pursue you, I will."

Quickly weighing her options, happy that he had given her the choice, she grinned wickedly having made her decision. The hunt resumed as she quickly scrambled down the hill, hoping to evade Martouf for at least a time. Maybe she wouldn't mind being chased after all, and being caught might be fun, too. She traipsed down the jutted hills and scrambled over branches along the way. From a corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her adversary, gaining ground quickly. She knew she wouldn't be able to evade him for long, remembering the Tok'ra ability to track trails was even stronger than their ability to cover them and she wasn't even out of his sights yet. Nor was she likely to be.

*****

Martouf allowed her a slight head start, contemplating this amazing woman. Just when he thought he was beginning to understand her, she challenged his assumptions. If she wanted to play, he would join her game, also. They had shared some serious moments in the past twenty-four hours of their forced vacation, and it felt good to be sharing a few lighthearted ones as well. His admission of the depth of his feelings for her had been difficult, and she had not been forthcoming with her own. He was fairly certain she felt as he did, and had not acted for exactly the same reason: Jolinar.

Last night they had held each other for the first time. It had been an intimate experience, though not sexual, and had soothed his wounded spirit. Her caresses were comforting and reassuring, with a strong undercurrent of sensual familiarity, which appeased his soul.

He watched as she traversed the inland perimeter leading to the lake and decided he would rather end this, then ponder her reaction to being caught. Doubling his pace he skirted the low lying bushes, secured his position and patiently waited for his chance.

*****

Sam eyed the landscape looking for any sign of Martouf, but nothing betrayed his whereabouts. She was not surprised and continued to survey for the best defensible position. She vowed to ask him later about Tok'ra strategies and tactics musing the best way to evade him was to understand the way he thought. And there were many other applications for that kind of knowledge.

Her memories of him were so sporadic they did not lend any advantage in her present situation. But then again, she really didn't want those memories to surface right now. They were too distracting and she wanted to feel only her own thoughts and emotions this night.

Although it was still extremely warm on this tropical world, the exercise would have been much easier in her fatigues. She was not about to go crawling through the dirt in her long borrowed skirt and flower decked headdress, not to mention her bare feet. At the thought of how she really missed her clunky regulation boots, her mind suddenly received a delayed message -- her feet really hurt. As she bent down to check them she realised one was bleeding, scratched raw from the brambles she had stomped not so delicately through.

*****

Martouf glanced at Samantha as she huddled over her foot, obviously in pain. Worried, but certain her injury was minor, he left his protected niche and silently stalked her, turning the situation to his advantage.

*****

Still checking her wound, Sam noticed the bleeding had almost stopped, so she paused, looking around for Martouf but saw nothing but bright celestial objects dotting the night sky. She thought for a instant she had heard footfalls but when she held her breath to listen, she heard only the sound of crickets whistling far in the fields above. She returned to her foot, dabbing again at the cut, when she felt a hand close on her shoulder from behind, startling her.

Years of military training instinctually kicked in. She spun around and threw out her uninjured leg, knocking her attacker to the ground. He seemed surprised by her actions but caught himself with his hands protecting his body from a harsh landing. Never one to concede advantage she wasted no time in subduing him further, using surprise to roll him over onto his back and pinning him there. Her hands holding his down, her body straddling his.

"I warned you once to never sneak up on a person like that." She smiled down at Martouf, feeling giddy and in complete control.

"If I had not, then I wouldn't be here under your... restraint." He answered. "I am not complaining."

She paused, considering his words, he made no attempt to escape, in fact the only movement she could detect was his accelerated breathing. "The hunter becomes the hunted." She cooed at him, delighting in the sudden reversal of roles.

"I would have surrendered if only you had asked." His whispered admission surprising her with its seriousness.

The moment they met she had felt a connection between them, had known their lives would intertwine as long as they both lived, but until now she hadn't fully understood the nature of that bond. She surrendered to it. "And if I ask now?"

"I am yours."

At Martouf's unexpected revelation, Samantha felt her desire for the man underneath her increase and all barriers between them collapsed. She sought his piercing grey eyes and saw both adoration and lust reflected in his gaze. She closed the distance between them, no longer resisting and captured his lips with her own.

The kiss was soft, gentle and exploratory, as they tasted each other for the first time. She sensed no hesitation in his response, his mouth quickly matching her pace, as he mirrored her actions before seeking his own. She parted her lips slightly, adding another dimension to their game as her tongue danced lightly over his lips. Permission was silently asked and given, as she entered his mouth, her tongue playing a sensual tune only they could hear.

He delighted in her actions and welcomed her ministrations fully, content to be following her lead. When she suddenly broke from his lips, he didn't protest, only opened his eyes to exchange a look of pleasure with the beautiful woman not a hand span from his face. She smiled seductively as she suddenly released his hands, her own already combing through his short hair, sending shockwaves through his skin as they slowly began to center. No longer satisfied with reflecting her actions, he shifted his weight catching her in his arms as he sat up.

A warm, soft hand glanced along her cheek and rested under her chin, her head tilted back towards his inviting mouth. Her closed eyes increased her other senses and she basked in the knowledge she could identify him solely by his scent. He smelled lightly of soap and sweat and self. The last an elusive quality, something she couldn't scientifically identify, nor did she want to.

Trailing kisses from her mouth up towards her ear, he took gentle nips randomly until he reached his destination. Pausing to suckle on an earlobe, he gasped as her hands slid over his back and chest leaving a tangible trace in their wake, savouring her sweet distraction. Sighing slightly, he continued his sensual assault on her ear, elated with the moans and wiggles his orchestrations were producing in her. He abruptly felt a need to express himself and Lantesh not so subtly suggested he do it with words, and not just his tongue. Agreeing somewhat reluctantly, he breathed, "You are so beautiful, Samantha."

A shy smile lit up her flushed face as she tugged her head away just far enough to take his head in her hands, reluctant to say what needed to be said. She leaned in close as they sat with their legs entwined, their foreheads touching intimately, as they had last night. "Martouf..." she began, her ragged breathing interrupting. "Martouf. I think we are in danger of breaking the code of the festival."

He paused, his breath as laboured as her own, and looked intensely into her eyes. "I agree with your assessment, however, many rules are meant to be broken."

She met his teasing glance, "Do you really want to find out what the penalty is?"

"No." He answered, honestly. "I have waited a long time to be with you. I am certain we can find many... alternatives, until the ban is lifted."

"I see." She stammered, unable to take her eyes off his, intrigued by his choice of words. "In the meantime, maybe we should go back to the square, there will be many more 'hunts' to observe."

"A wise choice." He agreed. "Tell me, are you well enough to walk on your injured foot, or shall I carry you?" Not waiting for her answer, Martouf scooped her up in his arms effortlessly and turned back towards the village, enamoured with the thought of Samantha in his arms and in his life.

They were unprepared for what awaited them.

*****

The village was deserted. All the revellers gone, their destination unknown. Every trace of the celebration had vanished. The banners, once hung on every building and tree, were missing. The dirt street blanketed with flowers only hours ago was combed clean, not a single petal remained. It was as if the earlier celebration had taken place only in their imagination.

"We did participate in that hunting ritual, didn't we?" A bewildered Sam asked, still cradled in Martouf's arms. She hated to think the whole experience had been just a fantasy her mind was entertaining her with. No, she thought, smiling; it was real, very real and she wondered how far they might have gotten by now, if she hadn't called a halt to their--

"Yes, of course." Her Tok'ra companion assured her. "I do not understand. We were not gone long, I would have thought the celebration would last far into the night. As on the Day of Light."

"What?" She stammered, forcing herself back to the present and searching her mind trying to remember Martouf's words. Blushing deeply, she recalled his remarks. "Sorry. I was just thinking about something."

He smiled at her knowingly. "Perhaps thinking about this?" He whispered, brushing her lips with his own as Lantesh interrupted his spiralling thoughts:

'You could have chosen to ignore her intent.'
'When I have this opportunity? I think not.'
'Well, then allow me control.'
'Why? What will you do?'
'Continue what you've started in a safer place.'

Martouf was about to relinquish control when Samantha ended the kiss. He looked into her eyes seeking her reasons when Lantesh reminded him:

'A safer place, Martouf?'
'Of course, I wasn't thinking.'
'No you weren't, if you were we would be at the hut by now, and possibly exploring the alternatives you suggested to her earlier.'

At a nudge from the woman in his grasp, he lowered her gently to the ground, and they both surveyed the apparently lifeless village. Chirping insects heralding the last moments of dusk, were the only detectable sounds, the wind carrying their lively tune far across the grassy plains. Other than the movement of foliage in the breeze, all was still. Eerily still.

A sense of impending dread demanded attention, and Martouf suggested, "Maybe we should go back to the hut, Samantha." A well-trained eye analysed their route before turning back to ask, "Can you walk?"

She nodded her assent, biting her lip to keep from flinching as her injured foot rebelled from her efforts to keep up with him. Hugging the walls of the buildings, they quickly made their way through the heart of the village and into the open field which led down to the lake and their temporary home.

They did not get any further before being challenged, "You there! What are you doing?" The harshness of the whispered voice surprising both of them.

"We are not of your world, only visitors--" Martouf started, using an even diplomatic tone with a forced smile, hoping to encourage leniency in their possible transgression.

"Has no one explained to you?" A panicked young woman appeared from within the shadows of trees. "Death strikes this day! Though for most only in our dreams and in our heart's memory, but Death stalks those chosen this night, and has been known to take others! Do not allow it to be you. Return to your home! Go now!" Not waiting to see if her warning was heeded, she raced off, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Sam exchanged a confused glance with Martouf. "I wonder what that means exactly?"

"I would rather not stay and find out."

"I agree. Let's go." Sam took point, and they quickly but cautiously closed the distance to their quarters.

Almost halfway back to the hut, Lantesh took over from Martouf and demanded, "Run, Samantha!"

Recognising the the urgency of his tone and that the situation must be dire for the Tok'ra symbiote to have assumed control, she broke into a desperate race with an unknown assailant, the stakes seemingly far greater than the ritual hunt earlier in the evening. He grabbed her hand and together they ran as fast as Sam was able on her still injured foot.

They were rounding a small tree-line, when the sound became clear to her, as something whooshed by her ear and embedded itself into a trunk. "They're blowing darts at us!" She yelled, ducking another volley, as Lantesh pulled on her arm, guiding her through the heavily wooded area just south of their hut.

Imploring her to be quick he shouted, "Hurry, we are almost there!"

She was already running beyond what she had previously thought to be her physical limit, her lungs were burning and the muscles in her legs were beginning to cramp. Lantesh was right on her heels as she climbed the stairs leading to the hut two at a time. Reaching for the door, she tugged desperately on the handle and it opened as she turned to haul him through to the relative safety of their quarters.

Sam watched in terror as Lantesh collapsed, one of the bolts finding its mark.

*****

Martouf gradually awoke to find himself lying on the bed in their quarters with a very worried looking Samantha sitting beside him. He shut his eyes, trying to clear the slight dizziness he felt before attempting to move further. He tried to remember what occurred prior to his waking, but all he recalled were vivid dreams of losing Jolinar, the terrible feeling of guilt for living after her death, and the closure Samantha had brought to his nightmare. He felt a warm hand on his cheek coaxing him to consciousness, and when he felt stable enough he again opened his eyes. "What happened?" He asked groggily, feeling extremely weak.

"You were hit," she explained, holding up a small wooden dart. "With this. How do you feel?" She gently probed the right side of his chest, taking great pains not to further aggravate the wound.

"It is just a dull ache." He admitted, accepting the pain before surmising, "It must have been much worse before, for me to have slipped into unconsciousness. I do not remember what happened."

"Well, to be blunt, you went down like a rock seconds after you were hit." She explained, grimacing. "I'm grateful we were at the top of the steps to the hut and not the bottom. I had a hell of a time getting you in here while trying to avoid the attack, but as soon as I shut the door, they vanished."

He listened carefully to her explanation, thanking the fates for her dexterity, as he peered around the dimly lit room. Two candle lanterns provided the only illumination, and did not betray the time of day. Suddenly curious he asked, "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Nearly seven hours."

"Seven hours?" He repeated, uncertain as to how that could possibly be so. Lantesh surely could have healed him from a simple poison long before that.

"Yes. It's nearly dawn. There are hostiles armed with dart-blowers guarding every section of the village as far as I can tell. They don't seem to be leaving anytime soon." She handed him a small pair of infrared binoculars, inviting him to take a look. "My guess is they'll stay until midnight and the Day of Rebirth begins. I was hoping the whole Day of Death thing was just a harmless ritual, but your condition kept deteriorating, so I had to use this to revive you."

He looked down to her hand to see what she was referring to, already guessing at her meaning. She held a familiar gold apparatus set with a flat, red crystalline circle. "You used the healing device on me?"

"Yeah. After I removed the dart and cleaned the wound, the puncture site turned a horrible purple colour. I knew whatever poison the dart contained must have been extremely powerful to knock you out and keep you out for so long."

Martouf stared at her as she recounted the early morning events. He knew from Jacob that she had been able to use the hand device, but he had not known of her ability to heal.

The worried look on Sam's face began to fade as she continued, "I couldn't leave to find help, so I searched the pouch from your belt, and found this and your hand device. I waited for a bit, hoping Lantesh would have been able to heal you, but when your breathing became erratic, I had to try."

His attention turned inward inquiring as to his symbiote's condition, and then having established a delicate indirect contact, he shared his findings with Samantha. "Lantesh is asleep from total exhaustion. The dart must have been extremely lethal for this amount of damage to have been caused. I did not realize you knew how to use the device. I am grateful, you saved both my life and Lantesh. Thank-you."

"I'm sure you can return the favour sometime."

"I hope I never have to." He declared as Sam reached for his hand, weaving her fingers between his before squeezing lightly. He responded to her gesture, his thumb tracing hers and lost the several minutes to her ocean-blue eyes. When thought returned, he made a silent promise to protect her from harm, knowing she had already done the same for him.

"You seem very knowledgeable when it comes to healing. My father, Colonel O'Neill... How about teaching me how to use the device properly?" She asked quietly, her gaze not leaving his, a questioning smile dancing on her lips.

Surprised by her query, he beamed, holding his free hand to her forehead, "You seem to have figured it out well enough, but it has taken a great deal of your energy. When we are both well, I will show you how to heal without giving quite so much of yourself. Have you used it before?"

"Twice. Well, only once on a person. A Goa'uld actually." She reluctantly admitted.

"Can you elaborate?" He requested, wondering when and why she would heal their enemy, before remembering the compassionate nature of the Tau'ri.

"A few months ago, three system lords, Yu, Niirti and Chronos, came to Earth to negotiate with us for our entrance into the Protected Planets Treaty. During the summit, Niirti attacked Chronos, and tried to frame Teal'c for the attack. Chronos was near death. I..." She hesitated, the reluctance apparent in her voice, "I used the healing device to save his life."

"You saved the life of a Goa'uld system lord?" He attempted to keep the shock out of his tone as he recoiled in horror at the name she had mentioned.

"I had no choice." She stated simply. "We were out of options."

"And you succeeded?"

"Yes. After a few tries, I made the device work."

"As you used the hand device to kill Setesh." He added. Selmak had explained how after Jacob had been injured, that Samantha had used the weapon to eliminate the elusive System Lord. Jacob had also mentioned the incident, pleased with his daughter and her ability, but concerned by her reaction to the event.

"Yes. I'm not proud of that, either." She admitted, looking away from him. "I don't really understand how to use, let alone control, that device."

Martouf sighed, pondering the wisdom of instructing her further in the use of his technology. Lantesh chose this minute to drowsily grumble:

'Does she not have the right to defend herself and her world?'
'Lantesh! Are you well? I thought you were asleep.'
'Not entirely. Just recuperating and listening to you two ramble on. You should tell her about Jolinar and Chronos, she needs to know.'
'You do not wish to confront her yourself?'
'I am tired, Martouf. Please tell her. Remember, all time we spend with her helps us to comprehend her being. It is something we both desire. Offer to instruct her if she wishes to learn. The legacy Jolinar left her could be as advantageous to her as it has been for us.'

"I will teach you, if you would like." He relayed the proposal with all sincerity. Lantesh was right, her ability to use the devices might be invaluable as had already been proven earlier that morning.

"I don't know, Martouf. I'm not sure I ever want to use it again." She frowned, her words ostensibly uncertain.

"What difference do you see between using the crude weapons of your own world and this?" A hint of Lantesh's arrogance slipping through. "Do they not serve the same purpose?"

"Well, yes." She conceded. "But they remind me that I'm--"

"That you were possessed by Jolinar and irrevocably altered by her." He said evenly, not a trace of sadness or regret entering his voice, simply fact.

"Yes, I'm sorry." She confessed, guilt evident in her face.

"We've had many discussions on why you are not to be sorry, Samantha." He softly chided her.

"I know. I know." She agreed, nodding. "Okay, it can still be very hard for me to deal with... all of this when I'm forced into using Goa'uld technology. My body chemistry is completely different. I can sense the presence of Jaffa, Goa'uld, the Tok'ra."

She sighed, composing her thoughts. "When I killed Seth, I drew upon my memories of Jolinar, but also on the fact that he had just tried to kill my father. I used that anger... that rage and I killed him. I can live with that. He killed hundreds of people. Do you know what I have the hardest time dealing with?"

"I want to understand you." He urged her. "Please, tell me."

"How differently the people I work with treat me sometimes."

She looked at the floor, and he wondered if she thought her feelings were betraying her friends. "They treat you differently? How?"

"I see the way my teammates looked at me when that happened. The look on the Colonel's face as he covered his surprise with sarcasm like he always does. He mostly seems to have accepted everything, he's always the first to suggest I use my 'abilities'. I'm not entirely convinced he comprehends my connection to you and the Tok'ra. Not to mention there is a little animosity between you two." She paused, a playful smile crossing her face, "Marty."

"Perhaps a bit, though after the incident on Naetu I believe we have come to a mutual understanding bordering on respect." Martouf answered tactfully, ignoring Lantesh's opinion. "Please, continue."

"I hear Daniel telling me, 'You killed him.' I hear his almost disgusted tone, over and over in my brain. He tries to understand, but his whole history with Sha're and Apophis, I don't think he'll ever get past that. And I think part of him is afraid of me. Hell, part of me is afraid of me." She told him, a small smile trying to counter the seriousness of her words.

Martouf was quiet as she attempted to explain her thoughts and feelings, and although they were directed at him, he knew that expressing them was a way of acknowledging them. He was honoured she chose to share with him, realising how hard it had been and continued to be for her. Living and working with people who couldn't possibly understand her duality, her constant struggle to control the memories which consumed her. He recognised he was probably the only person she had truly confided in about her experiences, and did the best thing he could for her. He genuinely listened.

She squeezed his hand, needing the contact before she began again. "I've spent a lot of time in the infirmary being poked and prodded by Janet and other scientists trying to understand what exactly has happened to me physically. They won't even hazard a guess as to what's happened to me emotionally." She snickered, sorrow evident in her voice as she announced, "All they can tell me is I'm no longer completely human. And I'm not Tok'ra, either."

He let go of her hand, and reached for her face, holding her gently in his hands until she looked up at him. He patiently waited until her eyes met his so they could help convey his thoughts. "Samantha, the Tok'ra consider you part of our own. You are well known, thought of, and respected. If you should ever leave your SGC for any reason, we would be more than happy if you would join us either on a temporary basis or permanently." When he finished he dropped his hands into his lap, anxiously awaiting her reply.

"I don't know what to say. I'm flattered, though I'm in no hurry to leave my job." She smiled at him, trying to hide her astonishment at his words, and attempting to bring some levity to the situation. "What about starting with a short exchange program?"

His eyes caught her infectious smile, and noting the change in their conversational style he asked, "Does this mean you will consider allowing me to teach you how to use the hand device?"

"Maybe," She teased. "If you promise to rest for awhile, I'll think about it."

"Your energy was depleted when you healed me, and I do not believe you have slept all night. You should rest as well." Martouf reasoned, a barely detectable hint of fervour buried in his rough silky voice. "Come to bed, Samantha."

She looked over at him for a moment, considering her options before accepting his invitation. Pausing to blow out the lanterns first, she then climbed into the bed, first pulling the blankets high up over his chest and then up to her neck. She felt him cradle into her back and enjoyed the closeness of his body, the warmth and comfort he exuded. His arm tried several different positions, before finally finding a comfortable spot on her hip. The last thing Sam remembered before quickly drifting into sound sleep, was the feel of gentle, reassuring kisses in her hair.

*****

Many hours later, they were startled awake by an urgent pounding on the door. "Martouf! Samantha! Allow me entrance, quickly!"

Recognising Sha'lan's voice, Martouf stumbled out of the bed and headed for the door, watching as Sam grabbed the hand device and hid it behind her back. Pleased with her quick thinking, a raised eyebrow silently asked her readiness to use the weapon should it come to that, and only at her nod did he open the door. "Sha'lan," he said suspiciously as he pulled the woman inside, locking the heavy bolt behind her.

"I came as soon as I heard you were hit, Martouf. You were not marked for death, but the warriors are young and anxious for their first kill," she explained between ragged breaths. "Dal'han would have come, but he does not bear the mark this year as I do."

"What mark?" Sam demanded furiously.

"Each year on this day, eleven of the villagers are chosen in a lottery and are marked for death. The untested warriors are given the chance to prove themselves by pursuing those with the mark." Sha'lan pointed to the bright green triangle on her forehead.

"You kill members of your own tribe, every year?" Martouf asked, disgusted by the thought.

"It is only a simulated death," she revealed slowly as if speaking to a child. "The poison in the dart puts its victims into a deep sleep until the the antidote is given on the Day of Rebirth. It is harmless unless the dart is withdrawn."

"Why didn't you mention this to us before? When I removed the dart, it nearly killed him!"

Sha'lan fell to her knees in front of Samantha, pleading. "I am sorry. It was a mistake. We did not mean to cause him harm. Forgive me. He is now well?"

"He'll be fine," she confirmed, anger tainting her voice.

"How did you get here without being 'killed'?" Martouf asked for Lantesh, who was just now starting to rouse from sleep. Having taken the brunt of their shared ordeal, the Tok'ra symbiote had remained in a deep healing trance for hours before reverting to peaceful slumber. He was not yet fully recovered, still needing a few more hours to rest.

"My son is among the warriors," Sha'lan said proudly, rising from the floor. "He respects his mother's requests. I must go now. The Day of Death is nearly over and I must allow myself to be caught. Tomorrow's ceremony will take place after first light at the bell's toll. You will then be allowed to return through the ring whenever you choose. Good night." Without another word she hurried to the door and left the hut.

Martouf turned the lock as Samantha joined him at the window. Together they watched Sha'lan descend the creaky stairs and head back to her home. She didn't get more than ten meters when she suddenly crumpled to the ground; a young man quickly running up to her 'body' apparently inspecting his not quite lethal handiwork. The sight of the almost lifeless woman repulsed Martouf and he looked away, thinking of his own narrow escape from a much more permanent death.

*****

Samantha Carter was sitting on a chair with her knees pulled up, supporting her chin with her hands, an elbow propped up on the small table. She was staring at the calm, moonlit waters of the nearby lake wishing she could have been swimming instead of being cooped up in the hut avoiding the sniper's sleep-inducing darts. Taking a brief skinny dip suddenly appealed to her, maybe just because it was forbidden. Not that she truly minded being stuck here with only Martouf for company. She had enjoyed their quiet afternoon.

After assuring her that he was almost completely well, he insisted on preparing a meal for them. She objected at first, not wanting him to over-exert himself but had relented when their search of the hut's cupboards restricted their choices to only bread, fruit and some kind of dried meat neither of them could identify. Sam agreed that slicing and cutting food would probably not expend too much of his energy, though she did pump the water herself.

After their makeshift meal, they had talked for hours in between catnaps. She told him about her childhood, her mother, how her father helped foster her passion for the stars. Her first love. About her decision to join the Air Force, and how her estranged brother, Mark, reacted to the news. She described her recent reunion with him, and meeting her niece and nephew for the first time. How her father had changed since joining the Tok'ra, and how she felt about him sharing his body with Selmak.

Martouf explained his reasons for joining the Tok'ra and becoming a host for Lantesh. He described the first time he laid eyes on Rosha. His first fight with Jolinar, and how she pushed him through the Chaapa'ai, stranding him on an unknown planet with no dialling device. And their subsequent reunion when she arrived by tel'tac, six days later.

Sam grinned, thinking about how she had teased him, threatening to try and remember the address where he had temporarily been imprisoned. It felt good to be able to laugh with him about this, not having to skirt around the issue of his former mate. She knew he would always love Jolinar and she respected that.

She had spent the last few hours of daylight sitting by herself pondering the man who was currently napping. Her feelings for him were so complex. Afraid to act solely on her instincts because of Jolinar, she tried to figure out how much of what she felt for him were truly her own thoughts, and deciding where Jolinar began and ended seemed like an impossible task. Maybe she should just give up trying. Perhaps it didn't matter anymore. The Tok'ra who had temporarily possessed her left an imprint so strong that the first time she had met Martouf she had felt an instant bond with him. 'Like I've had this relationship with you for a hundred years', her words to him the year before rang through her memory.

Having nearly lost him only hours ago had forced her to analyse those jumbled feelings. She could still feel his fevered skin under her fingertips, hear the sounds he made as his lungs gasped for breath, as he lay dying from the poisonous dart. Which she unknowingly attributed to in her attempt to clean the wound. She was unwilling to dwell on that, however. There was no possible way she could have known. She had helped to save his life, after all, and that he was alive was all that mattered.

She also remembered the more... pleasant details of last night. The feel of his lips on hers, the way he teased her with his breath, the feelings he gave rise to, and how much she wanted to share her body with him. And delight in his.

"Are you okay?" Martouf asked her, piping up from across the room. He was lying down on the bed, and up until now had remained quiet, allowing her some solitude.

Sam flushed a bit, still distracted by her unchaste thoughts. "I'm fine. Though, I should be asking you that question after all that's happened. Are you okay?"

"I am well," Martouf answered, bowing his head. "We are both well," Lantesh agreed, taking over from his host. His voice reverberating, "What are you brooding about, Samantha?"

"I'm not brooding," she answered, hopeful he would not ask any further but guessing he would.

"Really?" A devious smile challenged her. "Tell me what you thinking, then."

"I'm trying to work out some things," she said, deliberately being evasive, knowing he would continue to pester her until she told him what he wanted to know. She couldn't hold back her grin as she played his game.

"Such as?"

Sam gazed into his beautiful grey eyes, deciding to be bold, "The relationship I have with you."

"Are you willing to share those thoughts?" he asked, politely waiting.

She started to explain, "I'm... confused."

"By the memories of Jolinar," he stated. It was in no way a question.

"Yes," she agreed, taking a deep breath before slowly letting it out. "That and something else. When we met, I told you that I can feel how she felt for you. I still can. But now, I'm not sure if I'm capable of comprehending my own feelings for you. They are so wrapped up together with Jolinar's, that I think I could spend the next hundred years sorting through them."

He rose from the bed as she spoke, and sat down in front of her, "I think that if you were to spend some of that time with me, that I might be of... assistance while you are 'sorting through' those feelings." His eyes flashed briefly, and she did not look away.

"You think that would help?" She breathed, her voice failing her.

"I do," he nodded, weaving their hands together. "What else concerns you?"

"Just that caring for two people sharing the same body is kind of unique where I come from," she sighed, slightly relieved at having expressed her last greatest fear. "But I think I could get used to it."

Lantesh squeezed her hands and coupled them together, smiling as he looked deeply into her eyes, "I know it will be difficult, Samantha. However, there are many interesting possibilities we might explore together, if given the opportunity. Martouf and I are alike in many ways, distinct in others, but we love as one."

She revelled in his words for a moment and as her body perceived his meaning, a rush of adrenaline pumped swiftly through her heart, heightening all of her senses. He was closer now, and she felt his grip tighten as he pulled himself to standing, tugging her off the chair and up towards him. Not letting go of her hands he backed his way to the bed and sat down. She didn't oppose his instruction as he gently pulled her down with him, but could not resist a gentle tease, "But, I'm not tired..."

"Good," he bantered, grinning seductively. "I did not intend for us to sleep."

"And the code?"

"After what we have been through, I do not much care about this planet's rules. Do you?"

She shook her head in silent agreement, and by the moon's light watched as his handsome face descended towards hers. She closed her eyes as his mouth claimed hers, all rational thought fading away.

*****

Passionate was an understatement, Samantha reasoned as she shared this first taste of Lantesh. This kiss was unlike others they had shared, it being the first she had exchanged with the Tok'ra symbiote in control. Though the same lips danced over hers, the kiss was different in tone, having deepened much more quickly, and demanded more of her in return. The intensity made her head spin, or perhaps it was a lack of oxygen, it was impossible to tell and she didn't want to distract herself by trying. She was pleased to be already lying down on the bed astride him, and gave in fully to his commands upon her mouth, worrying about nothing save what she would do if he pulled away.

Of which he had no intention. Relishing his initial exploration of her lips, he came around for another pass, slowing the pace somewhat and noting her reactions to his touch for not so future reference. His tongue parried with hers, and he lightly stroked her head, running his hands through short, blond locks, enjoying the silky feeling between his fingers. The sensation quickly became addictive and wanting nothing more than to please the young woman in his arms, he reluctantly removed his hands from her hair, afraid his increasingly forceful tugs were too much.

Mourning the loss of his hands, Sam ran her own over his head and down his neck stopping to caress his shoulders. She marvelled at the soft skin, and how easily she could slide her fingertips over him. The feeling gave way to a rush of raw desire, and she broke from the kiss, responding to an escalating need to travel beyond his mouth.

Although Lantesh was still in control of their body, Martouf was hardly silent, actively exchanging thoughts and feelings with his symbiote. Very soon though, their minds would entwine, and conscious thought would no longer pass between them. Together, they would act as one, on a much more primitive level. For now however, Lantesh relinquished to his host, more than willing to share this most intimate experience, the first with this woman. There would hopefully be many other times in which he could be solely in control. Perhaps later on...

Amazed and aroused by her skill, Martouf remained prone on the bed beneath her, as she trailed increasingly demanding kisses and soft bites down his neck to his sternum. She paused there a moment, sitting up and shifting her weight, rolling her hips into his. He closed his eyes, unable to respond in any manner, his breath having been stolen away by an amorous thief. A surge of blood flowed freely in his veins, already accruing. He felt her rocking back and forth, agonisingly slow, and arched slightly to meet her, raising the stakes.

Her whole body shivered with this new closeness, and having sampled enough to further entice her, she swayed to a soundless rhythm on his thighs. Her partner followed her lead for a few passes, but suddenly grabbed her hands and lifted himself up, breaking the rudimentary contact. She fell back and strong arms caught her before she tumbled off her perch at the side of the bed. A smile passed her lips as her gaze found his, complete trust reflecting in his grey eyes, returning her grin as he turned her over onto her tummy.

For a instant, she lost track of him.

Not feeling any shifting of pressure on the bed that might reveal his whereabouts, she waited impatiently for him to return. Just as she became curious enough to take a peek, the warm stream of his breath tingled on the back of her neck. Nothing else making contact. Only hot, moist air forging a path, its dew trailing down her spine. Quick flicks from an experienced tongue leisurely retraced the route, returning to bathe her neck with feathery kisses. Quivering from his airy touch, Sam idly wondered why they had waited so long before giving into each other. The thought disappeared as deft hands swiftly undid the ties of the blue sari at her neck, exposing her back completely to the air and his affections.

Not wanting to neglect any part of her, he circled both shoulders with soft kisses and began tracing her back with barely detectable touches from his fingertips. She squirmed from the light tickling, and his eyes were not the only part of him enjoying her suggestive performance. The alluring motion of her hips beckoned, and he slipped a hand under the fabric circling her waist until he found the clasp and released it. Unwrapping the skirt, he was gifted with newly visible curves and wasted no time in a thorough sensual inspection with sight, touch and tongue. Descending around her rump, he glided over her thighs, and glanced downward watching as her toes flexed and curled under his erogenous pursuit.

Her feet became his next target, he nuzzled her toes, tasting each as if one might differ from the others. As his explorations advanced, Sam started to fidget a bit, the sensation becoming too much for her. She instinctually pulled her foot away, but found it caught in a firm grip, escape not being permitted. The sweet torture continued as she felt a hand encase her other leg holding them tight, and she struggled, trying to free them. When he wouldn't let go, she twisted onto her side and pushed herself up, her sweat-soaked clothes clinging in places, but ultimately slipping down off her body as she sat up.

Distracted by the sudden vision of her unadorned, so round and perfect, her feet were all but forgotten. His gaze drifted to notice her full breasts, nipples hardening as they were exposed to the cooler night air, and then to his gentle probing. Skimming a hand over one, he cupped it, and then let his fingers slide underneath feeling the weight in his hand. He twinned the gesture, and then positioned himself between her legs, lowering his face to her chest. He circled and suckled each breast, enjoying her satisfied sighs and rapid inhalations of breath, knowing he was the cause of such bliss.

Seizing his head in her hands, she pulled his lips back to hers for a brief soiree. She reached for the coarse, white fabric at his waist and attended to its fastenings, watching as it fell to the bed. Her eyes looked up into his, and she watched them flash as Lantesh once again assumed control. Taking first a quick peek, then a longer look down at him, she turned to rally her hands, running them down his silky chest, intending to explore his length, but strong hands grabbed hers and pulled them away. Concerned she might have overstepped her bounds, she hesitated for a moment, uncertain of how to proceed.

He met her questioning glance with lust-drenched eyes, not meaning to have offended her. "Samantha," his voice was rough with desire. "There will be time enough later. I want to be within you... now. Will you allow this?"

She fleetingly wondered if his query was a common Tok'ra practice, not ever recalling any former lover of hers having asked so formally, or at all. Her laboured breathing prevented her from answering with words, so she didn't even try. Instead, she nodded and enveloped him in her arms intending to pull him back down onto the bed. When he resisted the soft tug, she again looked up, patiently awaiting an explanation. She would wait nearly a minute.

Unceremoniously shoving the pillows out of the way, he grabbed the topmost cover from the bed and spread it out over the floor. Laying a pillow against the wall, he sat down on the blanket and turned to his soon-to-be lover.His hand extended an invitation which was readily accepted as she scrambled down onto the floor beside him. He answered her unasked question, "The bed is too soft for a first coupling."

"Pardon?" The word escaping before she even had a chance to consider what he might mean.

"During a first union, neither partner should submit nor dominate," he explained through ragged breaths. Taking time to kiss her deeply before finishing his rationale, he pulled her close and backed her into the waiting pillow. Her legs again straddled his, her body cradled in his lap. He let out a low pleasured moan, revelling in the feel of her body so close to his, truly having to concentrate to form his thoughts in her language, "Such a posture is... impossible unless on a firm surface."

She smiled at his words, finding the exotic custom fascinating, but even more so was Lantesh's reverberating voice disappearing halfway through the sentence. She looked into his intense grey eyes, so filled with passion for her, and everything else faded into background. "I want you... please," she whispered in his ear, as yearning toppled into hunger.

Lifting up ever so slightly, she bid him entrance to her body, her hand guiding him through soft folds. He felt taut muscle surrounding him as he was caught in her most intimate caress. Burying himself inside her, he closed his eyes, her scent luring him deeper, her essence utterly intoxicating. His pining becoming a physical need, his body demanding all of her in their mutual seduction. She further tempted him with her fingers, sliding them in and out of the corner his mouth and over his lips. Taking full advantage of the minor distraction, he snared her, sucking suggestively on a thumb and relishing the sound of her tantalised moans.

Slowly pulling her hand away, she was enraptured by him, her gentle rocking matched perfectly by the thrusts of her skilled partner. She was so very close, now. All of the fantasies she had dreamed about him, all the illicit memories she sometimes clung to when she was alone could not compare, and she opened her eyes, reassuring herself it wasn't just her imagination. It wasn't. She was here, Martouf was inside her, and nothing else mattered.

Lost in his torrid embrace with instinct solely in control, anticipation raced through her body as she strained to get as close as possible to the man sheathed within her. Her hips were performing an ancient rite, breath straining as reflex conquered frenzy and released shivers she had harboured so long, she had forgotten they existed. And as she cried out his names, he caught her hands and entangled her fingers in his.

Seconds later, she stared with wide eyes as he trembled with his own release. Memories of their first meeting flashed through her, she saw him gazing at her from beneath the hood he wore in the desert, his soft eyes trusting her when no one else would... dozens of other images flooded her mind, but she was already drowning in the sensual sight before her.

He was breathtaking. Absolutely breathtaking.

Pleased to hear her name amongst a fury of unfamiliar words, she savoured the ebbing pleasure of his final writhes within her. He smiled as he opened his eyes, and she found him studying her, as if seeing her for the first time. Her heart pounded as he broke from her hands and pulled her forehead to his. She clasped his in return and simply held him.

Reluctantly, some time later, she pulled off of him, sinking down to the floor, exhausted but happy and very much relaxed. A wicked grin suddenly crossed her features as she whispered, "Martouf?"

"Mmm...?" he sleepily mumbled, still sitting beside her.

"Tell me what toraan means."

He looked down at her, faintly recalling having uttered the word, "Um, it is a... a sexually based expletive."

"And kree'sid?" she asked with a bemused expression.

He looked away, silently admonishing Lantesh for his choice of oaths, "Very similar, though more demanding in nature, essentially a command."

"I think you should teach me more of your language," she said, one of her hands playing with his thigh.

"A good idea," he agreed, thinking of just how many words there were to describe his desire for her. "I think however, we will have much time for language lessons, and that now is a good time for a certain Tau'ri to share her customs."

"Well, it's customary to serve turkey at Christmas dinner," she teased.

He grinned, happy she felt comfortable enough to jest with him, "I am already familiar with most of your holiday traditions."

"I take it you meant some other kind of custom?" Her eyes telling him she knew exactly what he meant earlier in their discussion.

"Yes, we could perhaps begin with the one Lantesh interrupted earlier?" he suggested, as he stole another blanket from the bed and hastily rearranged the pillows before sinking down with her. She snuggled into his chest as he pulled the covers over top of them. Pondering his future with her, he weighed the possibility of her someday leaving her world to be with him, but for now, he was quietly content, aware their bond had just been strengthened. He spent the next several minutes in silence, enjoying the warmth and comfort she exuded, and when Lantesh pushed for him to share his feelings with her, he didn't resist, "I am blessed when I'm with you, Samantha."

She blushed at his words, but drew herself up to gaze into his eyes. As she was about to speak, Martouf held his fingers to her lips, "Shh... do not answer. A reply is not required."

So instead, she kissed his hand. Before the sun rose that morning, she would explore his body much more thoroughly, delighting in the similarities and differences of both host and symbiote, before sleep demanded her undivided attention. Even then as she slept peacefully in his arms, his living presence touched her mind, as he had touched her heart.

*****

Martouf was awakened by sunlight streaming down onto his face through the small window of the cabin. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he peered around the room, surmising it must be late morning. Not surprised that they had slept so late, he smiled as he gazed at the beautiful woman still slumbering beside him. Turning onto his side in an effort to obtain a better view, he brushed against her and a surge of hunger began to rise again. But a drowsy Lantesh quickly quashed the notion:

'Let her sleep, Martouf. Even I am having trouble keeping up with you.'
'Alright, then distract me. Or drone on about something and I'll fall back asleep myself.'
'You are not fully awake yet, anyhow. Your thoughts are quite jumbled this morning, only your feelings for Samantha are clear, and at the moment they are all rather... base.'
'You have shared my body for more than twenty years, you ought to know by now how I react to both the morning and to having an incredibly sensual woman lying next to me. Especially considering the activities of last night.'
'I do not easily forget, Martouf. You are not the only one she trembled beneath--'

A bell signalling the beginning of the Rebirthing ceremony interrupted, the ringing loud enough to be heard throughout the village, and distracted Martouf from the battle of wills. Lantesh took advantage and seized control, not something he did often and his host complained loudly at the assumed subterfuge:

'What are you doing?'
'Preventing you from waking Samantha up.'
'I wasn't going to wake her.'
'Martouf...'
'Alright, but is it such an unpleasant way to awaken?'
'No, but we do not yet know her preferences.'
'We now know some, Lantesh...'

Martouf was testing his resolve. He could be very convincing when he wanted to be, and no effort was being spared in this attempt. Lantesh found his mind saturated with images of events that had taken place only hours before. He felt his breath quicken as his body responded to both the memories and the sight of the young woman lying next to him. Though his reaction was not entirely against his will, and he had decided how to exact his revenge, he could not resist one last stab at the instigator:

'You can be very trying, Martouf!'
'Yes, I can.'
'You may regret it...'
'I do not think so.'

Lantesh grinned as he gently nibbled a soft shoulder, moving slowly around her neck to her mouth, and was delighted as Samantha sleepily responded to his amorous rousing. He pulled away from her lips just far enough to whisper a brief, "Good morning."

Her reply was muffled as he quickly rejoined the kiss and she didn't reiterate her greeting with words. Instead countering him with not so subtle movements of her tongue, and insistent hands tugged roughly through his short hair. She rose up slightly from the bed to meet him, circled his back with her arms and then suddenly changed direction, pulling him back down on the bed on top of her. He didn't resist her this time as he had during their initial encounter, but nor did he hesitate, impulsively sliding into her easily.

An ardent grin crossed his face as he watched her eyes flutter open, wide with surprise and heavy with need. Her guttural moans told him that although he had caught her unaware, she wanted this, wanted him. As her hands on his back urged him on, her fingernails began to bite at his skin. He dove deeper into her, straining against the pleasure-inducing pain. Seizing her wrists, he pushed her hands away from their sweet torture, and held them down over her head. She tensed under his firm grip and struggled a bit, but a quickly exchanged glance assured him of her willingness to play his game.

Deliberately teasing, he lunged slowly and with undetectable rhythm. At one point, withdrawing completely from her, until her roughly-worded ultimatum convinced him otherwise. He immediately obliged and stared at her face as she came but a few moments later, trying to ingrain the ecstasy she revealed to him. Then, forgetting everything but his own rapidly centring bliss, including his host whom he had purposely kept at bay, Lantesh could no longer keep his control, and he shuddered, loudly giving into the demands of his shared body.

Martouf waited impatiently for Lantesh to relinquish control to him. He was hardly surprised with his symbiote's actions, they shared many traits and knew each other well. They had occasionally traded in a sport such as this one, with the symbiote annexing his body without expressed permission, but somehow Lantesh always seemed to make him not really mind. And in this instance, although Martouf could not control his body, he had shared in the enjoyable pastime. And so he awaited, feeling his body reluctantly pulling away from the woman to whom he felt an increasing devotion.

Smiling as Lantesh finally released him, he decided not to say anything about what had transpired before Samantha had awakened. "Good morning," he began, pausing to kiss her chastely on the cheek. "I hope this was acceptable way to greet the morning?"

"I think I could get used to it," she replied, almost bouncing out of the bed heading for the small partition of the washroom.

Stopping first to send a mental 'I told you so' to Lantesh, he asked, "Do you wish to leave right after the Rebirthing?"

"I guess so, we should get back home," she called through the fabric wall. "And I should eventually get back the SGC. Let everyone know we're okay. Though part of me wishes we didn't have to go quite so soon."

He grinned, agreeing wholeheartedly. "I feel the same. You've enjoyed our time here, then?"

She emerged from the curtain wrapped in a sheet, nodding, "Yes, aside from that damned dart which nearly killed you. How about you?"

"Other than that particular incident, yes. I could not have wished for anything more," he agreed, happy to share his feelings.

"Me, either. Well, maybe one thing," she added playfully.

"What?"

"A shower. Come on, let's go down to the lake. I'll wash you if you like," she offered suggestively as she grabbed her clothes from the floor and headed for the door.

"Then we might never get out of here, Samantha," he answered truthfully, collecting his own towel and wrap, and followed her down to the water.

*****

An hour or so later, the two lovers were clean, dressed and fed, having scavenged fruit from the trees which grew nearby. They collected their few belongings from the hut, tidied up a bit, and walked slowly, hand-in-hand towards the village square intent on saying goodbye to their host.

They did not have to search far as Dal'han greeted them with a huge smile, "Martouf and Samantha, you did not attend the rebirthing. Can I assume you found a more... pleasing way to spend the morning? Or did you indulge before the bells rang?"

Sam looked away, her eyes settling on the festival organizer's wife, newly resurrected from the 'dead'. A quiet, but telling glance passed between them.

Dal'han apparently caught what had occured between Sha'lan and his guest, "Do not be worried, those who are contracted with the Primary Engraving often break the code. However, there is a penalty. Send for Fal'hal!"

"The engraver?" Martouf asked.

"Yes," Dal'han confirmed, apparently unwilling to explain the punishment until the arrival of his friend. Who, in short order approached, carrying with him a box with jars filled with liquids, paints and brushes. "How many bondings have you secured this morning, old friend?"

"Three already," Fal'hal said, "though this is the fourth?"

Dal'han nodded and the engraver pulled out a brush and a jar of bright red liquid, reaching for Samantha's arm. "Please, be still," he insisted.

"What are you about to do?" Martouf demanded.

"I am administering the penalty, this agent will change your Primary engraving."

Sam glanced worriedly at Martouf, "In what way?"

"It will now be a permanent mark. When you return to next year's Ska'hal'sha'han, you will choose to either renew your contract or end it," the engraver explained.

"Contract?" Martouf asked, already fairly certain where this conversation was headed as Lantesh whispered an 'I told you so' directly into his mind. His symbiote was sometimes as trying as he was.

"Yes, the Primary marriage contract," Dal'han continued. "Fal'hal and I both witnessed your exchange before you with bonded with the mark, you asked her if she agreed. You then participated in the hunt, and admitted to your completion, though premature, of the rites."

A clearly stunned Samantha managed to find her voice, "Are you telling us that we're married?"

"Yes. Though it is just the first of three bondings. You should return at next year's festival to either complete the second bonding, or to end your relationship. You must know that because of your indiscretion, your mark will be permanently sealed. It will of course not affect you if you remain together, but if you forgo this marriage for another, it will serve as a reminder to not act... prematurely."

Martouf stared at his new mate, who was having her engraving painted. She didn't seem to be resisting, and looked almost giddy as she glanced back at him. A smile danced on his lips, and though he tried to conceal it from her, she snagged his eyes, exchanging his gesture measure for measure. Elated, he never moved from her gaze, as the engraver sealed his own mark.

When the penalty was completed, Dal'han and his family walked with them through the grassy plains to the Chaapa'ai, a few of the other villagers in tow. Upon their arrival, a young girl presented them with a woven basket, a hand-tied broom and a large bunch of flowers. The festival overseer asked one last time, "Are you sure you will not stay for the feast tonight? It promises to be one of the grandest we have ever put forth."

"No, thank-you Dal'han," Sam answered. "We really have to get back, our friends will be worried. They expected us five days ago."

Dal'han nodded, "I understand. Contained in the basket are some small items you will require for your marriage. The flowers stand for beauty in your home. Though Martouf, your wife will do that simply with her presence. And the broom signifies fertility and harmony, both of which we would bestow upon you."

Martouf tucked the flowers into the basket, watching as Sam blushed slightly at the compliment paid to her. Lantesh noted her grip on the broom seemed to tighten, and filed the thought deep within his mind to ponder at a later date. The Tok'ra then bid farewell, "We thank you for making us feel welcome on your world, and for all that you have done."

"Then go peacefully, knowing you are welcomed here and expected back at next year's celebration."

Martouf entered a sequence of glyphs, and pressed the large red crystal in the center of the dialling device. The wormhole engaged with a familiar whooshing sound, and soft blue waves appeared as it stabilised. He turned to their hosts and bowed a formal goodbye. Dal'han waved to them, and headed back towards the village. Martouf turned towards Samantha, smiling as she wove her fingers through his and led him into oblivion.

*****

"Where are we?" Sam asked as they were unceremoniously spit out of the vortex. "It actually looks familiar."

The grin her companion had been wearing disappeared, "We are on Noctana, occasionally used as a staging ground for the Tok'ra, though not for many years."

Sam immediately recalled Jolinar's memories of being there with Martouf, as she had while being under the influence of the memory device, only a few months ago. She felt a pang of guilt as images of him making love to his former mate entangled her mind in a passion-filled web, and she involuntarily flinched.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern apparent in his voice.

"Yeah," she fibbed. "I'm fine."

"Please, sit," he said, gesturing to the rock steps at the side of the Stargate. "Samantha, I would not have you lie to me. Only lie with me."

"Okay, your bringing me here has confused me. It stirs up my memories of Jolinar. I feel like a voyeur," she confessed as she sat down beside him. She watched as his head bowed slightly, and wondered what Lantesh had to say that Martouf couldn't.

"Martouf can be as much of a fool as I am, Samantha. I'm sorry if his choice of worlds has made you uncomfortable," he sighed, his voice soft and low. "This place was one of several relatively safe planets that went through his mind as he dialled. Not the one I would have chosen, but, we are here. I need to tell you something concerning Jolinar, and there are a few other things I thought we might discuss in private before returning."

"That's a good idea and I have a couple things to say, too." Adopting a stern tone, she added, "But, next time, I'd appreciate a warning about where we're gating to. Especially if it's likely to recall her memories, okay?"

He looked deep into her eyes, "Yes, I give you my word."

"I trust you," she smiled, hoping he felt the same. "Both of you."

"It may be an inappropriate time, considering the events of the past five days, but I need for you to know that Jolinar's last mission was to infiltrate Chronos' ranks when she did not return to me."

"I know," she said quietly as visions of healing the powerful system lord swamped her mind, "I began remembering just after he arrived on Earth. I knew he was the one who sent the Ashrak to kill her. I have a few scattered flashes of memory about the exact circumstances, but I haven't been able to recall enough to understand everything, yet. If I ever do, I promise you'll be the first to know."

"Thank-you," he said solemnly. "Your telling me this means a great deal, perhaps more than you realise, Samantha. I know how difficult this is."

"And I've barely scratched the surface with her memories," Sam added, wondering if she would ever be able to access everything Jolinar had left in her mind. Or if she really wanted to. Some things were probably better left buried, she thought. Looking back at Lantesh, he appeared to be squirming in his seat, obviously uncomfortable, "Are you okay?"

With a forced smile, he nodded. "I will be, but there is one last important thing I would have you tell me. If you can."

She knew exactly what he was asking, and had been preparing for the question for a very long time, still uncertain of the exact answer as if there could be such a thing. Almost two years worth of pondering still had her no closer to the truth. Though sometimes her mind seemed to understand, but just as she thought she had it figured out, it was snatched away and buried somewhere else. Her words just tumbled out, "Why Jolinar denied the very essence of being a Tok'ra and bore herself into my brain without asking me first?"

The blow was visible on his face, and he looked down as he answered, "Yes, I would really like to know why she went against our beliefs."

"Oh my God, I can't believe I put it like that. I'm sorry." Sam apologised, remorse tugging at her heart for her insensitive choice of words. Her hands came up to her face, and she fidgeted not looking at him.

Lantesh gently moved her hands away from her face, and ran a finger under her chin, turning her face towards him, "It was what you have been thinking, isn't it?"

Taking a breath, she attempted to explain as best she could considering how confusing it still was, "She was trying to save herself from the Ashrak that Chronos sent after her. She was desperate. The man she had been hiding out in for months was dying. His entire village was being slaughtered in an attempt to flush her out. They would have died for nothing if she hadn't escaped. She had to get back, to see you." She watched as Lantesh let go of her and moved away, "She loved you. That's why."

"She should never have done it," he whispered. His droning voice overcome with sadness, "Especially not for me."

"She was scared Lantesh, afraid to die. Being faced with death makes people do things they might not otherwise have done. You must know that," Sam rationalised.

"She should still not have done it," he said stubbornly, apparently not to be swayed.

She decided to pull out all the stops, "Maybe not. But if she hadn't, you might never have known what happened to her. And maybe I'm feeling selfish here but if Jolinar had died on Nasya, I would never have even heard of the Tok'ra..." she trailed off for a moment, hoping for a response.

When it didn't come she continued, "My father would be dead. Selmak would have died. Our peoples wouldn't be allies. Sokar might have destroyed Earth. If he didn't finish us off, the Reetou might have. If it hadn't been for the Tok'ra, Hathor might have succeeded in taking Colonel O'Neill as a host, and we would never have escaped. Seth would still be alive..."

Sam paused for breath, and noted a change in Lantesh's expression. First, he was actually looking at her, and a trace of a smile edged his lips. Realising she may have succeeded, she wrapped up her impromptu lecture, "Jolinar may have made an error in judgment, but her decision to jump into me that day, has led to a lot of good things. Not the least of which, was that I met you."

"You are an amazing woman, Samantha Carter," his lips widening to a full grin. "And very... determined. Thank-you for reminding me of all that I have."

"You're welcome," she said, sharing in his smile.

"And now, newly mated woman," he teased, pulling her into an embrace. "How do you wish to proceed?"

"With the marriage thing? I'm not sure. I didn't exactly think we'd be getting married quite so soon." Or at all, she added in her mind.

"Nor did I expect to have another mate this quickly," Lantesh agreed. "Though, I must tell you, I suspected the ritual was a mating ceremony."

She frowned, "And you decided not to tell me? Why?"

"Because the contract cannot bind us," he explained. "It is not Tau'ri or Tok'ra, and though Dal'han believes it was consented to, we have not discussed such a joining."

A sudden thought popped into her mind, "What am I going to tell my dad?"

"Whatever you wish. Perhaps, that you spent five days on a beautiful planet cherishing your existence?" he offered. "I do not think he will be surprised with our changed relationship. Selmak certainly will not, we have conversed about the possibility."

Sam's jaw dropped, "You've talked to Selmak about us?"

"Yes, at great length."

"But you said..." she started, then remembered that although he had told her he had not spoken to her father about their relationship, he had not mentioned Selmak. "I'm going to have to start taking everything you say a bit more literally. Doesn't that mean that my dad--"

"Your father is probably aware that a union between us should not be unexpected." Martouf interrupted, once again back in control.

"Oh, geez," was all the reply she could manage, her face turning red at the thought.

"As Lantesh said, Samantha, the contract cannot bind us, only our hearts can do that." He touched her cheek lightly as he spoke, "And though you already have mine, I will not jeopardise our relationship by asking you to publicly declare it prematurely."

"I think something will be pretty obvious when we get back, Martouf. And its not that I won't tell anyone... I know Janet will drag it out of me, she always does." She sighed, "Part of me wishes I could drop everything and just be with you, but it's not that simple. I'm not ready to leave the SGC."

"I do not expect you to, Samantha. Our lives are not so different as you might think. I cannot leave my people at the moment, either. There is much work to be done."

She knew just how true that was, and could only guess at how it would affect them, "This is going to be one hell of a long distance relationship. Maybe, we can find a way to make sure our paths cross a bit more often?"

"Of that, I am certain," he promised, his grey eyes dancing as they met hers.

She leaned in to savour one last kiss with her secret husband. His lips were warm and inviting, and she felt relaxed and secure in his arms. As he stroked her head, she pulled him close, knowing that although they would soon be halfway across the galaxy, the distance somehow didn't seem to matter quite as much as it might have before.

Martouf broke the kiss and quietly pulled her forehead to his for a brief moment before releasing her. "Are you ready to depart?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Good. I am now going to dial the world the Tok'ra are currently based on," he explained with a smile, keeping his earlier promise.

Squeezing her hand, together they entered the ring, heading for the always temporary home of the Tok'ra. As they exited the artificially created worm hole, an icy breeze caused goose bumps to form on her suddenly chilled skin and she shivered. A warm arm appeared around her shoulders, and she cradled her head into his chest as a familiar voice called to them. Her lover shouted a greeting through the swirling ice and snow, and led them towards the the safety of the transport rings.

Samantha Carter felt the cold biting into her skin as she and Martouf walked barefoot in ankle-deep snow to meet their escort, but it was the last thing on her mind. She was happy and perfectly content, and almost home. As they reached the invisible circle that would take them below the surface, she silently wondered when the crystal tunnels of the Tok'ra had seemed like home. She smiled, contemplating the answer.

From the first time she had seen the blue halls in her vision and had seen his face... when their eyes met as she recognised him, their hands entwined in the desert... as their minds had bonded through words and as their bodies joined in passion. It was clear to her now. About the same time as she realised that she loved him.

*****

"It is good to see you once again, Samantha Carter." Korra's familiar voice resounded through the wind. "Kel nok, Martouf. I am glad to see you both looking... so well."

Martouf met Korra's questioning glance as the transporter rings plummeted the trio below the frozen ground. "We were unavoidably detained."

A trace of a smile formed at the corner of the Tok'ra's lips as he spoke, "Did you enjoy your... detainment?"

"Very much, thank-you." Sam answered. She had enjoyed the short time she had spent with Korra many months ago when they had all been captured by Aris Boch. His fierce loyalty to the Tok'ra's cause had stirred similar thoughts within her, and she had found that reassuring. Not all of Jolinar's memories were based on her feelings for Martouf. There was always a subtle undercurrent of him of course, but her devotion to the goals of the resistance was at times, just as overwhelming as the complexity of her love for her former mate. Sam knew that Jolinar's allegiance to the Tok'ra had sometimes spilt over into her own actions. The colonel often questioned this, but she knew such faith was not misplaced.

"This way," Korra gestured as two Tok'ra guards joined the trio as escort. "Your father and teammates await. They have surmised what happened, and we have all been anticipating your return."

He led them through the tunnels and into a central chamber where as promised, the rest of her team and her father were gathered.

Colonel Jack O'Neill immediately jumped up from his seat on a carved section of rock and rushed over to her, the concern on his face quickly fading to amusement, "Nice outfit, Sam. Where have you been? Club Med?"

"Something like that," she agreed, not able to keep a silly grin from appearing on her face. It had almost been exactly like a vacation. Well, she thought, better than a vacation. "Hey, Daniel, Teal'c. It's good to be back."

"Really?" Jack replied incredulously as his stare travelled from his second to the recently returned Tok'ra.

"What are you guys doing here?" Sam wondered, a little surprised to see them in the underground base.

Daniel gave her a quick hug before answering, "We're glad you're okay. Umm, after the mishap on P3X-477, we sent a MALP through and the Goa'uld were gone. We found what was left of your GDO. Rather than assuming you were dead or captured, we figured you would eventually show up here. Though, to be honest, we did expect you a little sooner."

Teal'c finished explaining, "For the past two days, we have been working with the Tok'ra in an effort to locate your whereabouts. Major Carter, it is good that you and Martouf are safe."

"Thank-you, Teal'c."

Jacob ignored the exchange, happy his daughter was sound, and stretched out his arms to her in greeting, "Welcome home, kid. I'm glad you're safe. You both look... really good. What happened?"

As Sam was still caught up in Jacob's embrace, Martouf answered, "While under attack, I misdialled one of the gylphs, and we ended up on Shal'dhan, a tropical paradise in the middle of a five day religious festival. We were forbidden to leave until after the Day of Rebirth, the last day of the rituals."

"You misdialled?" Jack asked, his suspicious tone not going unnoticed.

"Yes," Martouf admitted.

"And ended up in a tropical paradise? Trapped, for five days?"

"Yes, sir." Sam wondered just where this line of questioning was going.

Jack turned away slightly, and muttered, "How convenient."

"Convenient, Colonel O'Neill?" An angry Martouf inquired.

"Actually," Sam interceded, not appreciating her CO's implication one bit, but hastening to smooth things over. She did, after all, have to deal with both men, and had to maintain a working relationship with her superior officer. "We got caught up in a number of alien rituals, including one that nearly killed him, Colonel."

Appearing to relent, Jack fell back into comfortable wisecracks. "Well, you didn't have her home by eleven, Marty. And you, Missy are grounded for a month."

Lantesh was getting tired of O'Neill's attitude, and assumed control, "Do not treat Samantha as a child, O'Neill. I guarantee you she is not."

Eyebrows were instantly raised all over the room. None more significantly then the subject of the perceived challenge, whose voice now bore a false calm. "Oh, I'm not treating her like a child, but she is under my command."

"For the past five days, she has not been stifled by anyone's restraints." Martouf mentally chortled at Lantesh's choice of words and further warned him:

'Lantesh! Whatever you make think, Samantha must work with this man.'
'He is takned reen!'
'Yes, but he is also highly protective of her--'
'To an absurd degree! Getting himself shot on Naetu certainly did not assist her. His behaviour is foolish.'
'Perhaps there is another reason for his conduct.'
'Jealousy.'
'Yes.'

O'Neill, oblivious to the near instantaneous internal conversation going on within the Tok'ra, took a step towards his verbal sparring partner and let out a punch, "Except for maybe, yours?"

"She does not answer to me, unless it pleases her." Lantesh retorted, as his host reiterated their previous conversation in a failed attempt to placate his soul mate.

"Cut the crap, both of you!" Jacob ordered, his features showing contempt for the display going on between the two men. Looking over at his daughter, he could tell she wasn't impressed, either. "Well young lady, anything to report to your old man?"

Sam smiled, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah, Dad. I got a tattoo."

"I can see that, and matching ones no less. Are they permanent?" He didn't really care, having had a tattoo of his own, but wondered what circumstances could have driven or forced the couple into sharing body art. Selmak offered a thought:

'You've answered your own question.'
'Pardon?'
'A couple.'
'You're losing me, Selmak.'
'They are a couple. Together. Mated.'
'You don't really think...'
'You can tell what I think, Jacob. They have just returned from spending five days together. It is possible all they needed was time and proximity. I know you approve.'
'You know what I hate?'
'Yes, I do. I'm worse than your conscience. I really do talk back.'

Sam confessed, "Yes, they are." She was unwilling to add anything else.

"Anything else either of you two would like to tell me? Lantesh?" Jacob tried to maintain a stern look, but was starting to fail, his eyes dancing between his child and Martouf.

"Samantha demonstrated her ability to use the healing device," was the only information the Tok'ra offered.

"And?" Jack prompted.

"And what is this, the fifth degree?" Frustration tinged Sam's usually cool-headed demeanour.

"No Major, simply a debriefing." O'Neill had emphasised her rank as he answered her. "What else happened?"

"My GDO was damaged, it was impossible to Ôgate home. We were detained for five days during which we joined in several local traditions. This afternoon we left, and arrived here. End of debrief, Colonel." Carter sighed, having delivered her summary without a breath. It was clear she wasn't going to say anything more.

"That's it?" Jack asked.

Lantesh relinquished control back to Martouf who felt the need to expand on Samantha's report by just a bit. He stared at O'Neill, preparing to taunt him just a bit of his own accord. "We ate, drank, talked, swam in the lake, danced, laid on the beach. We explored the village. And slept. Everything else is personal, I hope you understand."

Recognising the reaction on Jack's face, Daniel quickly piped up, hoping to change the subject. "Why did they give you a broom?"

"Uh, it was a part of one of the rituals." Sam explained, hoping it would be enough. She didn't want to get into the specifics, at least not now. And she really didn't want to be having this conversation. Glancing around the chamber, she caught the eyes of the one person who she hoped would be able to break up this party without suspicion and sent a silent plea in his direction.

The Colonel pressed on, not looking away from Martouf. "What kind of ritual--"

"Samantha and Martouf are both in need of a warm bath, clothing, food and rest. I suggest these be attended to before any further discussion," Korra interrupted, much to the relief of nearly all concerned. "I have just been informed the temperature on the planet's surface has dropped, and no one may leave the facility safely until after sunrise, tomorrow."

"Come on Carter, I'll show you where the quarters for the team are." Jack said possessively, leading his second out of the room.

Sam fell instantly back into military form, already following him as she answered, "Yes, sir." She mouthed a 'thank-you' to Korra and gave her lover a quick half-hidden smile as she departed from his presence for the first time in last five days.

Korra watched as his fellow Tok'ra observed the Tau'ri and Jacob Carter disappear through the shining tunnels. He was well aware of O'Neill's hostility towards them, but did not truly understand it. He was protective of his team, almost to a fault, but this seemed more personal. "O'Neill does not approve of your relationship with Samantha."

Martouf looked up, "No, but it is not his approval that I seek or require."

"And Jacob?" Korra inquired.

"I believe he will--"

A loud, commanding voice interrupted them from just outside the room, "Martouf kree! Kel no Samantha dah? Nok torrad Lantesh?"

Korra couldn't suppress a grin, grabbing Martouf's arm in a supportive gesture. "I guess you're going to find out, my friend."

"It would appear so," Martouf sighed as he obeyed Selmak's order to discuss the daughter of his host.

*****

Many hours later, the hidden base was quiet. After bathing, Sam and Martouf had changed back into their respective uniforms which had been returned to them in the basket that Sha'lan had packed, and the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri had gathered for the evening meal. The food was simple compared to the feasts prepared for them on Shal'dhan, but it was hot and plentiful. Soon after, the couple had started to yawn, and were released from the gathering, escorted separately to sleeping quarters.

Samantha had slept relatively peacefully, interrupted only by the recurring snoring of her colonel, and the rustling of blankets, not her own, as Daniel tossed and turned. She twisted over onto her stomach, having wakened to an unfamiliar but quietly insistent tapping sound. After focusing on the entrance to her team's assigned room, she saw the source of the noise, and quietly roused herself as not to wake her companions and joined the Tok'ra standing in the corridor.

"Samantha, may I assist you in finding a more appropriate place to sleep?" He whispered.

"Pardon?" A slight blush creeped into her cheeks, as she was led towards the opposite end of the tunnel.

"Do not be embarrassed," he cast a knowing gaze at the young woman. "The Tok'ra hold no secrets from each other. I believe we will be seeing more of you in the very near future."

"I would like that," she said quietly.

He stopped them just outside the main hub of the facility, holding his hand up to her forehead for a brief moment. "I must ask that you grant me a request, Samantha. It is important."

"Of course, anything." She readily agreed, remembering from her borrowed memories that she could trust not only her life but her soul to this man.

"Do you trust me?"

Sam's brow furrowed in question as she answered him, "Completely."

"Then please, take this home with you." He handed her a small, highly-polished, grey stone. "When you return through the chaapa'ai, hold it for a moment each day."

"That's it?" She took the stone, and held it tight in her hand. It felt cool to the touch, but she could not detect anything else unusual about the gift, so she slipped it into a pocket.

"Yes. You will know if anything else must be done, but do not tell anyone of this. Not Martouf, nor your father. You understand, do you not?"

As he spoke, Sam studied his face. The total, utter seriousness was fading from his features and a grin was breaking through. She could not remember what the stone might be for, but did recall the utter devotion this man had for both Jolinar and her mate. He had aided them in the past, and now, she knew he was doing the same for her. Her faith in that friendship was enough for now. Not needing to contemplate her assent any longer, she inclined her head, "Yes, thank-you."

He smiled at her, and offered his arm which she accepted with a shy smile of her own. He once again led her through the winding tunnels of the base until a deep voice interrupted them.

"I will escort her from here."

"Of course," her protector said as she was released into her father's custody. "Good night Samantha."

She watched him depart as she took her Dad's hand. They walked in silence until Jacob stopped in front of an opening in the wall. He pulled her to face him, "I think this is where you belong."

Sam looked down at the floor, embarrassment evident in her flushed face. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome kiddo. I expect you to visit a tad more often, though," he explained with a wink. "And maybe even sometimes you'll come to see me?"

"Of course, Dad." She laughed, pulling him into a hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He held her for a minute, then let go and straightened up. "Martouf, kree!"

As Martouf appeared from within the darkened chamber, his eyes widened with surprise at the sight of the two people in front of him. He had resigned himself to sleeping alone that night, but found he was unable to rest. The last few hours had been hard, knowing that Samantha was just at the opposite end of the passageway. Several times he had found himself wandering through the corridors, hoping she might have come looking for him, however, he knew she was with with her teammates, and would probably stay there. She would not risk alienating O'Neill.

During the meal, he had apologized for his earlier behaviour towards the man both to Samantha and her colonel. O'Neill told him he too regretted the incident and they had agreed to forget the whole thing. They were allies, after all, Jack had said, they might as well act like it. And so they did, watching Samantha relax as they played host and guest almost too perfectly.

His retrospection was suspended as he watched Jacob staring at him, his expression unreadable. With help from Lantesh, Martouf forced himself to hold his head high and waited patiently for Jacob to speak.

Suddenly the elder Carter's head bent, and Selmak spoke instead, "Kel no tal Samantha, dant nas Jacob. Torrad nok Martouf ek Lantesh. Kantan Tok'ra nel kallesh, tel rok'nar!"

"Rok'nar kallesh nel. We thank-you," Martouf said formally, joining his hands and bowing low to Selmak.

With one more stern glance in Martouf's direction, Selmak turned and kissed his host's daughter on the cheek. "Good night," he added. Curtly inclining his head to the couple he left, he walked swiftly back towards his own quarters.

"Translation?" Sam asked, with a quizzical gaze, wasting no time in grasping Martouf's hand.

He guided her back into the dimly lit sleeping alcove as he attempted an explanation, "It is a bit difficult to translate. We have been acknowledged by the Tok'ra as 'entwined souls'."

"And that means?" she prodded.

He openly grinned, "It is a formal way of telling us that the Tok'ra community approves of our relationship. Did Jacob seek you out?"

"I had other help as well, but yes, he brought me here." Sam disclosed.

"That your father was the one who brought you to me tells me that he also approves. I should tell you that he and I had a lengthy discussion earlier."

"Oh?" Sam asked, trying to feign indifference. "And what precisely did you and he discuss?"

Martouf gathered her into a close embrace, his voice low. "I assured him that my feelings for you are genuine and honourable... for the most part."

"For the most part?" She knew he was teasing her, but she couldn't resist asking.

"Yes. I did not think he would believe that I do not lust after you, Samantha. Do you?" As if to prove his statement, he began lightly nibbling her ear.

She momentarily forgot they were having a conversation as his warm lips danced along her earlobe. "I'm not sure I want to hear any more about your little discussion with my Dad."

"Perhaps we should talk about something else, then?" He continued to tease her, his hands slowly tracing circles down over her back, his mouth nuzzling her neck.

"No more words..." she told him tugging them both down onto his bedding on the floor. "Unless perhaps, they are toraan or maybe kree'sid..."

Giggling slightly she kissed him, totally enraptured with joy. For tonight at least, she could forget everything else. The SGC. The report she would have to make to General Hammond upon returning. Questions from Janet. The phone bill she was supposed to pay last week. Forget everything except for him.

Her friend. Lover... husband.

Martouf.

She smiled.

*****

As Samantha and Martouf spent one last blissful night in each other's arms, they were unaware that the small stone left in the pocket of Sam's fatigues had begun to brighten, almost imperceptibly.