Chapter Fifteen Summary: Jacob makes some discoveries about what Martouf and Lantash plan to do while
they are on Earth. Sam begins her Seduction of Martouf and Lantash.
Pairings: Samantha/Martouf/Lantash Rating: This chapter is M
"Italics" - Symbiote-Host or Telepathic communication
Jacob Carter rapped on the side of the open doorway. He still had problems with the
openness and lack of privacy in what should be private chambers. He was lobbying the
Council for some type of door covering, but it was not likely to happen anytime soon. They
had not needed doors in thousands of years, why would they need them now? He was out
of new ways to try to convince them that they needed them. His next step was to get
something for his own door, and he really did not care what they said about it.
So far, Selmak had not intervened on either side, however, from Jacob’s memories he
understood how uncomfortable it made his host and, although he had yet to tell Jacob, he
was about to add his opinion…and tell the council that they would be acquiring a covering
for their door. If they did not like that, it was too bad because he was not going to allow
his host to continue to be uncomfortable here. They would learn to live with it. As far as
he was concerned, if Jacob wanted to start trying the different ideas he had about a
“door,” then he had his approval to do so.
Jacob rapped once more on the side of the doorway. Since he still received no response
from inside, he entered only to see Martouf standing quite still in the middle of his room
with what looked to be a shirt in his hands. He was staring with vacant eyes at the
crystalline structure of the wall. Jacob looked at the same area on the wall but could see
nothing there that would induce such intense study, so he shrugged to himself and then
cleared his throat. When that did not work, he tried again a little louder. He finally
realized that his friend was in some faraway place that light knocking and discreet throat
clearing could not reach, so he tried another tack. “Martouf.” Okay, that got him nowhere
fast. Once more, then, and louder, “Martouf!”
“A-a-a-ck!” Martouf whirled around towards the person who was yelling. “Jacob, why are
you speaking so loudly? It is not necessary. As you know, we have excellent hearing. It is
one of the many enhanced abilities the symbiote gives to us.” Martouf’s brow furrowed, as
he pondered the unusual action.
Jacob hid a smile, as he answered, sounding only lightly exasperated, “Martouf, I have
been attempting to get your attention for the last five minutes. I knocked; I cleared my
throat, and called your name, with no response at all. Where in Hades were you,
anyway? Halfway across the galaxy or something?"
Martouf flushed, before Lantash could prevent it. “I was, uh, thinking, but it was
nothing. I am sorry you could not garner my attention.” Martouf answered him, obviously
still a little flustered.
Looking at Martouf’s face, Jacob decided not to pursue the questioning. “Never mind. On
second thought, I don’t think I truly want to know where your mind was. I think that
might be on the order of “too much information” so I think I will take a pass.” Deciding it
was time to change the subject he nodded to the shirt in Martouf’s hands, as he
questioned, “Aren’t you ready to go yet? You have already had three days to pack.”
Martouf looked decidedly uncomfortable and seemed to have a little trouble talking at all,
but he finally managed to say, a little hesitantly, “It has occurred to me, Jacob, that
perhaps we do not have the proper attire for a prolonged stay on earth. It might be better
if I remained here for the time being and just…” his voice trailed off and he sighed, again
staring, but this time at the shirt in his hands.
Jacob snorted. Now what was eating at his friend? Maybe they should have gone to Earth
right away instead of taking the three days rest first. Martouf looked as if he had not been
sleeping well, and if he had rested at all, Jacob would eat his desert hat. Evidently,
instead of relaxing, Martouf had worked himself into a state of heightened tension. He
supposed he should have expected something like that to happen. He frowned to himself,
as he wondered why Lantash was not helping him. He should have been able to calm
much of Martouf’s anxiety.
“Perhaps Lantash is as nervous as Martouf, Jacob. Samantha has given neither of them a
great deal of encouragement. Samantha, Martouf, and Lantash are all confused and
unsure of the feelings of the other. Samantha has the added burden of dealing with the
remnants of Jolinar’s memories, which must be neither easy nor comfortable,” Selmak
reminded him mildly.
Jacob nodded to Selmak. “You are right, Selmak. So, what do we do for them? Martouf, at
least, seems to be obsessing about that shirt.” Selmak gazed thoughtfully at the man
standing in front of them as he gave the problem some thought. He saw Martouf’s eyes
glow and waited to see what Lantash would say.
“We will be ready shortly, Jacob. It is difficult to know what to take with us for this
extended a visit. It is not as if we will need our uniform every day,” Lantash said, as he
folded the offending shirt, and put it with the meager pile on the sleeping platform. The
Tau’ri uniforms were the only clothing they had that would be appropriate for Earth. He
was reasonably certain of that.
Deciding that he would have to take a hand in this, or they would never leave for the
SGC, Jacob strode to the small room adjacent to their quarters where they stored their few
possessions and clothing. Every Tok’Ra had one, although they actually owned very little
in the way of personal belongings. There was no point in it when it would possibly have to
remain behind the next time a System Lord learned which planet they were now on and
attacked. He threw open the lid to a large trunk and proceeded to pull out clothing.
Lantash was correct. Most were not appropriate for Earth or for anywhere else as far as
Jacob was concerned.
Then he came across what looked to be a garment similar in make to a smoking jacket,
and it had a matching pair of black satin-like pants. He tossed those to Lantash, who
caught them and looked at them in confusion. They were a gift from a grateful old man on
a planet where they had been able to help stop the Goa’uld. The old man had given them
to him and told him to keep them for his mate to enjoy. Lantash had forgotten all about
them and had, in fact, never worn them for his mate or anyone else. Jacob’s voice
brought him out of his memory. “Those will do for something to relax in during the
evenings,” he informed him. “They aren’t something you could wear out in public but for
a casual evening just sitting around your room or at Sam’s house, they would be fine.”
“I cannot believe I am helping them find clothes that will help them seduce my own
daughter,” Jacob grumbled to Selmak. “I should have my head examined.”
“You are doing very well, Jacob. See if there is anything else useful in there,” Selmak
urged him. There was.
“Where did you get this, Lantash?” Jacob asked, as he held up a beautifully embroidered
white shirt. It looked very much like something a pirate, or perhaps a poet of a long past
era, might have worn. The front opened in a very deep V and had leather lacing. The
sleeves were long and full with long tight cuffs. It was the type of shirt that women loved,
and men looked askance at. This one would probably make most women drool and most
men shudder at the thought of wearing it. Nevertheless, even he was impressed with the
workmanship and beauty of it.
“It is part of a disguise I had to wear on a mission once. I believe there was a pair of pants
that go with it, unless I have lost or thrown them out,” Lantash replied. He had no idea
why he had kept them. In case he ever had to play a similar part, he supposed. It was
not uncommon for them to have to do so.
Sure enough, under some odds and ends, he found them. Jacob remembered an
historical flick he and his wife had once seen where the leading man had worn pants just
like this. Made of soft suede, they looked as if they would fit like a second skin. The
actors certainly had anyway. He frowned for a moment. What was that color? Buff? No.
Not really brown, either. Fawn. That was it. He remembered his wife calling those pants
the actor had worn fawn. Yup, fawn. He grinned. Sam would love them. With another
internal grin, he tossed the outfit to Lantash who looked at them with something very like
distaste on his face and handled them as if they might come alive and bite him. Jacob
almost laughed aloud. He would have felt the same way, but he really did believe that
Sam would like them. Moreover, Lantash could carry off wearing somewhat weird and
unusual clothing because he was alien to Earth, whereas an Earthman would just look
uncomfortable, and like he wanted to punch someone. Lantash and Martouf did not need
that bit of information though.
“This is appropriate to wear on earth, Jacob?” Lantash asked, warily, somehow sensing
that it was not. “I would not have believed that would be so. Are you certain that it is
appropriate for their culture?”
Jacob relented. “Well, in a way, you are correct. I would definitely not wear them out in a
public place; on the other hand, they will be fine as long as you are just sitting around the
house. They are not the kind of clothes I would normally advise, true. Despite that, trust
me on this, Lantash; women really like those kinds of clothes. Personally, I think it has
something to do with fantasies and romance, but before the question even makes it out of
your mouth; no, I neither know nor understand why they like them. Just believe me, they
do,” he answered, as he saw the questions forming. Lantash looked puzzled, but
acquiesced. If Jacob said they would do for an evening at home with Samantha, then they
would take them and wear them, while they were there.
Other than the robe-like clothing the Tok’Ra seemed to favor, there was nothing else
suitable in the trunk. Jacob looked at one robe that could have been worn by a sheik.
Somehow, he could not picture the dark blonde, silvery-blue eyed Martouf in it. He put it
back. Maybe next time.
After replacing the clothes, Jacob turned his attention to the pile of belongings on the
bed. When he came to a small item wrapped in a small square of velvet, he carelessly set
it aside. As he did so, a ring fell out. Jacob let out a whistle. “Lantash…” he began.
“You did say that the Tau’ri presentation of a ring is a ritual that couples who wish to
become mated participate in, Jacob. Is something about it incorrect?” Martouf had
reassumed control and he sounded distinctly anxious. He looked as anxious as he
sounded.
“Well, Sel, now we know what is wrong with him and Lantash. He is sweating bullets
because he is going to propose to Sam. I guess it doesn’t matter what species you are,
when it is time to try to take a mate the male gets absolutely crazy.” Jacob was decidedly
amused.
“You are enjoying this a little too much, Jacob. I will remind you of it should we ever
decide to ask a bonding of Jocasta and Daur’rin. I trust we would be just as unsure of
ourselves as Lantash and Martouf are of themselves.” Jacob frowned at him. Evidently,
he was not the only one considering making their relationship with Jocasta and Daur’rin
more permanent. He had not arrived at the point of discussing it with Sel and obviously,
Sel was at the same place.
“There is something incorrect with it, is there not? I was not sure it was appropriate at the
time, and now I have…” Martouf began to say, the words almost tumbling over one
another as his discomfort level shot up ten fold.
Realizing that he was not helping Martouf and Lantash, he said, quietly, “Whoa, slow
down, Martouf. I was just talking to Selmak that is all. I would like to have another look
at it, if you don’t mind. All I got was a glimpse at it.”
Martouf cleared his throat nervously, and then placed the ring in Jacob’s outstretched
hand. Jacob looked at what, on earth, would be an extremely expensive bauble, lying in
the palm of his hand. It certainly was a beautiful thing. Sapphires and blue topaz stones
surrounded a large Marquis-cut diamond. The matching band was ablaze with more of all
three of the stones. Both rings were made of intricately woven gold.
“I know you said that you gave your mate a diamond, but I had hoped it would be
acceptable to add the blue stones. She has blue eyes and I, that is, I thought…” his voice
trailed off once again, and he looked notably miserable.
Jacob lightly touched the rings, and then said, “They are perfect, Martouf, so stop
worrying. It is a beautiful set of rings. The type of stone is a personal preference. There
is no rule that says it must be a diamond. I think she will love it, because it is beautiful,
yes, however, she will love it because you thought about it and chose it for her based on
her eyes. Be sure you tell her that; women like that kind of stuff and, since it is true, it
will be great.”
“Why would I tell her if it was not true, Jacob?” Martouf asked, obviously confused.
Jacob shook his head, and sighed. “Never mind, Martouf, just trust me on this. You
better put that in your pouch. You are gonna lose it carrying it loose like that and that
would be a shame.”
Martouf took it and opened the piece of velvet to re-wrap the ring and a necklace fell out.
Again, he blushed before Lantash could stop it. Jacob picked it up, looked at it, and
nodded. Sam would like this, too. Sapphire and topaz stones surrounding a Marquis cut
diamond were set in intricately woven gold and were a perfect match for the ring. “Stop
stressing yourself over this. She will love both of them,” Jacob assured him quietly. “They
really are quite exquisite. I cannot imagine any woman not liking them.”
“Thank you, Jacob.” He stopped, and Jacob waited, certain he had more to say, which
proved to be true. Martouf continued, telling Jacob, “I am sure that you see no reason for
my trepidation, but I feel that Samantha is very unsure of how she feels about us. I know
there are some very real reasons that she could reject us.”
“Actually, I don’t think I have ever known a man that was not scared out of his mind at
the idea of asking a woman to marry him, er, bond with him. I am not going to give you
platitudes, Martouf. You do have some strikes against you. Sam is confused. We both
know that, but I think this time with you will help her figure out that not all of what she
feels are remnants of Jolinar’s feelings. Neither Selmak nor I believe they are anyway.
We both believe that Sam has some very deep feelings for you and Lantash, but that she
needs time with you so she can prove it to herself.” He paused for short time before
adding, “I think you would make her happy and cherish her as she deserves to be
cherished. For what it is worth, I hope she says yes to the two of you,” he added, gruffly.
He cleared his throat before saying, “Come on, we still have to figure out what clothes you
need to take.” Jacob once more started to go through the clothes. After a few minutes, he
sighed and shook his head, “Looks like it is a choice of whether you should take the brown
uniform or the brown uniform. I would take several changes, then those black t-shirts
you keep holding, and the BDU pants. We will get you some Tau’ri clothes once we get
there. Jeans, slacks, shirts. You can leave them at Sam’s when we come back or at
Daniel’s place. I have some of mine in the room I use when I am on base, and some of
them at Sam’s house. It might be more convenient for you to do the same thing. That
way you would not have to wear BDU’s when you leave the mountain.”
Martouf looked at him and told him quietly, but sincerely, “Thank you, Jacob. Lantash
and I both recognize what you are doing for us. We both realize that it cannot be easy for
you. We are aware of the mores that hold sway on Earth, and we understand how very
much this must go against your beliefs. We are very cognizant that, as Samantha’s father
the entire idea of encouraging her to become our mate would be very difficult for you to
do. We do appreciate it greatly. We also thank you for helping us to decide what we
should take with us.”
Jacob nodded his agreement, and then he grinned at them, “Well, if we wanted to get
there today, I had to do something. The two of you certainly would not win any medals for
moving fast.” Again, he went into the closet, this time to pull out a small trunk. The two
men packed Martouf and Lantash’s belongings into it. They were finally ready to go.
Martouf picked up the trunk, and they turned and left the room. As they walked down
the crystal corridor towards the ring transporter, they saw Garshaw in the distance
coming toward them. They nodded to a Tok’Ra named Torleck who was standing in the
corridor and reading something on a small hand held viewer. Jacob and Martouf moved
past him and came up to Garshaw.
“Jacob, you are leaving, now?” She smiled slightly at them. “We will hope that your visit
on earth and your time with your grandchildren is pleasant.”
“Martouf and I are looking forward to a nice relaxing visit. If nothing pressing comes up,
we may even extend it for a month.” He grinned at her, “I would like to spend some time
with Sam, as well as with my grandkids and son. You can always contact us, if you need
us for anything.”
“Certainly. I do not see your stay as being a problem. As you say, should something come
up, we will contact you. It is not often you both can go to the Tau’ri with no mission to go
on or information to gather.” Yosef came forward, and said, “You and Martouf have both
been on missions nonstop for many months now, Jacob. We truly hope you have a nice
time. You need the time off. Both of you.”
“Thanks, Garshaw, Yosef. We will.” He nodded, as he and Martouf continued toward the
rings. Torleck followed them at a discreet distance, but still within hearing range.
“Jacob, you are taking nothing with you?” Martouf asked, as he realized that the only
chest they had was his.
“No. I keep clothes at Sam’s and on base. No point in having them here; I wouldn’t wear
them. I will change into something after we get there and then take you shopping for
some good old fashioned blue jeans.” Jacob grinned at him and forbore reminding him
that he had already given him the information about where he kept his clothing. As
things stood right now, Jacob was surprised Martouf still remembered his own name, let
alone a comment made when thoughts of Earth and Sam were, in all probability,
occupying his mind to the exclusion of anything else.
“What are these blue Jeans, Jacob? Martouf inquired. “I believe you have mentioned
them before.”
“Standard casual dress for the Tau’ri. They are, um, leggings I guess you would say. You
will like them. Almost everyone does.” The two men stopped at the rings and transported
to the surface moments later.
Torleck was elated. They had no idea that Bastet was planning anything. He could tell
his master that the little problems that kept delaying the finishing of the fleet were simply
inconveniences. The Tok’Ra would be completely unprepared. Two of their most trusted
people were off on a visit to the Tau’ri. This time there was no one to interfere. The Tok’
Ra would be destroyed.
Once on the surface, Jacob turned to Martouf, “Well, we are almost there. I am beginning
to get a bad feeling about this, but I don’t know why. If something really important was
going on, they would not have been willing to wait for three weeks for us.” He sounded
perplexed.
“I, also, am having some odd feelings, Jacob. I have put them down to the situation with
Samantha, but I am not so sure that is what they are,” Lantash came forward to discuss
his uneasiness with Jacob. “I feel as if we are going into something, but I do not know
what. As you say, the Tau’ri would have notified us if there was something important
going on.” His feelings of disquiet were obvious to Jacob.
“We will know in a few minutes,” he pointed out, as they approached the Chaappa’ai. He
watched as Lantash input the glyphs for Earth and came to stand beside him.
Jacob turned to him, and said quietly, “Listen, when we arrive, if Sam is there, I’m gonna
ask her to take you to her lab or something. I want to talk to George about getting her
some time off while you are there. You may as well use the time to your advantage. You
understand?”
Lantash answered readily, “Perfectly, Jacob. You wish us to begin our, ah, courtship, of
Samantha immediately. We will do our best.”
They both watched as the event horizon formed. Martouf took control, sent the code, and
within moments said, "We have an acceptance of our IDC. We may go through now.”
“Great. Let’s do it,” Jacob replied. They both stepped into the pool of shimmering blue
light.
Kataya and Daniel had only been gone for fifteen minutes and Sam was already pacing
her lab. It did her no good to sit down; she would just jump up again after a minute or
so. She had tried several times to bring Jolinar’s emotions forward into her mind and to
feel them. She could not do it. It was almost frightening. The emotions were so familiar
to her that it almost felt as if some part of her was missing. If Martouf and Lantash came
with her dad, she would know without a doubt of any kind, if any of the emotions she felt
when she was with them were really hers. She decided to head for the control room. At
least then, she would be present when her dad arrived, and she would know immediately
whether Martouf and Lantash were with him.
It did not take her long to arrive, and no one paid much attention to her, so she made
herself comfortable at a computer terminal. Maybe she would run a few diagnostics and
that would keep her busy. Suddenly the klaxons were going off. She held her breath.
Unscheduled off word activation. She got up to stand behind Sergeant Davis.
“Is there a code, Sergeant?”
“Yes, Ma’am. It is the Tok’Ra.”
“Open the iris, Sergeant Davis.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, but he was talking to air. Sam was almost in the Gate Room
already.
As she halted at the bottom of the ramp, her thoughts raced in circles in her head. This
was it. Whatever she felt, if he came through the gate, would be her emotions, no one else’
s. I swear, she thought to herself, if they come with dad, and I feel the same desire and
love I usually do, I am taking them to lunch in my room—and they are the appetizer, the
main course, and the dessert.
Her eyes searched the event horizon anxiously. Two figures stepped through. One was
her father. The other was—Yes! Sam thought, as she began to smile. The other is the
men I love. Me. Samantha Carter. I love them. Relief swept through her at the
realization that she could stop tormenting herself over her love for them. It was hers, all
hers. She would safely add Jolinar’s emotions to hers when Kataya released them, and
they would simply add another dimension to the love she already felt for these two
beings. She could not seem to stop smiling at them.
Martouf’s breath caught in his throat. Samantha was smiling at him. Truly smiling.
And, her eyes were saying something, but he was afraid to really believe it. It was a
dream; he was sure of it. He expected to awaken at any moment in the middle of it, as he
had been doing for the last three nights. Of course, Jacob had never been in one of his
dreams before, but then, he had never dreamed that he was in the SGC Gateroom when
they were together with Samantha either. Always before there was a sleeping platform.
As unobtrusively as possible, he quickly surveyed the room. Nothing. There was no
sleeping platform, no bed, and no blanket on the sand. Nothing met his eyes but a large
grey room, Jacob and…Samantha. A smiling Samantha. A smiling Samantha with
shining eyes. He was going to drown in them, but that was an acceptable way to die.
Jacob’s voice and Sam turning to answer him broke the spell that enmeshed Lantash and
him. Sighing, they turned their attention to the others and watched as she greeted her
father.
“Hey, Kiddo. How’s my girl?” Jacob asked. “Well, Sel, the look on Sam’s face when she
saw Martouf and Lantash step through the Gate kind of gives her feelings away, wouldn’t
you say?”
Selmak chuckled in his head as he said, “I do believe you are correct, Jacob, and we can
safely leave them in her quite capable hands.” Then Sam was answering Jacob, and they
both turned their attention back to her.
Sam turned to her dad, smiling at him and answering quickly, “I am fine, dad. You look
good. Rested. When we talked to Garshaw, she said that you were on a mission. I hope it
went okay for all of you.”
“Yeah, it worked out all right.” Jacob stopped for a moment and then grinned at her,
saying, “Of course, that is a matter of perspective. It worked out all right if you consider a
slow painful death by boredom, caused by being around the most repetitive, monotonous,
tedious, mind-numbingly dull Goa'uld in the galaxy, okay. We took a couple of days to
rest after our exposure to that, since George said there was no real rush. Believe it or not,
we were exhausted by doing nothing but staring at the walls and listening to him drone on
and on and on…” He winked at her, and finished by saying, “Well, you get the idea.” He
gave her a big hug and hailed General Hammond, as he came through the door into the
Gateroom, “George. Good to see you.”
“Hello Jacob. I am glad and relieved to see both of you here. That will be helpful,” the
General answered him somberly, before turning to Martouf, saying, “It is good too see you,
Martouf. Your last mission must have ended well, since you are both here and appear
unscathed. It is always agreeable when a job comes off with no casualties or injuries.” No
smile lightened his face and his tone remained sober. It was obvious that something was
not quite right here.
Jacob sobered immediately, as he observed his friend’s seriousness, “That tone does not
sound like we came for something unimportant, George.”
General Hammond nodded, “As of yesterday afternoon, the status of our meeting changed
from pleasant information sharing to critical operations. Come on, I will give you a quick
briefing before we all gather.”
George Hammond sighed, “Airman, we have more people and luggage to accommodate.”
“More people and luggage, George?” Jacob stared at him. “Are you expecting more, er,
company, George?”
“Yes. Moreover, it is only going to continue and become worse as time goes on. I will
explain in my office.”
Jacob nodded and turned to Sam, “Sam, take care of Martouf for me for a while. I have
some personal things I need to discuss with George. I suppose that since there is going to
be a briefing, I will see you there. Try to make Martouf comfortable and keep him
entertained in the meantime, will you?”
Jacob’s question caught her off-guard, since she assumed that it would not be easy to get
Martouf and Lantash alone. As a result, Sam sent her dad a surprised look, before
agreeing, “Sure, okay, dad. No problem. I can take him to my quarters so that he will be
comfortable, and I will keep him company until they get his quarters ready, or it is time
for the briefing.” Then she was able to ask the question she had been dying to have an
answer to ever since she realized they brought some luggage. Normally, her dad did not
bring anything with him when he came, so she hoped it was Martouf and Lantash’s
trunk. Consequently, her statement sounded like a question when she said, “I assume
the luggage means both of you are staying?” She sent an inquiring look to her father.
“Well, depending on what George has to say, yeah, we had planned on at least three
weeks,” Jacob said. He shrugged slightly, adding, “Both Martouf and I have been on back
to back missions for the past several months—no, actually it has been almost a year now.
Furthermore, it is beginning to sound like it may end up being an entire year of them,” he
explained as he looked at the General for his input and comments.
George Hammond spoke up quickly and quietly, “You and Martouf need to plan on at least
eight and maybe as many as twelve weeks here, Jacob. The news we received yesterday is
definitely not good; however, eight weeks of that is lead-time, which will allow us to get
plans laid and we hope, implemented. Come on, let’s go on up,” he replied. Then he
turned and led the way out of the room and toward his office.
“I guess those feelings of uneasiness were justified, Martouf. Since there is going to be a
briefing, I will call you at Sam’s quarters, or they will announce it. Either way, I will see
you then,” Jacob told them as he, too, turned and left to follow his old friend.
As soon as they were alone and walking toward her room, Martouf asked, “Samantha,
what has occurred?” Internally he was speaking with Lantash, “Why is she taking us to
her room? She always takes us to her lab. What does this mean, Lantash?”
“I do not know for sure, Martouf, and Samantha is talking to us. I suggest we give our
attention to her for now. No doubt, we will discover in due course what her reasons are for
taking us to her room.” Lantash answered quickly, and then gave his attention to what
Samantha was telling them.
After a moderately long pause, Sam finally decided how she should answer, “Martouf, if
you would not mind too much, I would rather not try to explain it. Can we just wait until
the briefing, please? There is a lot to go over, and I am pretty sure that we will be getting
some packets of information. I would just rather you hear the facts from those that have
them, than to trust that I would get it all correct, when I am not sure I have all of the facts
myself.” She looked up at him, her voice and face earnest in her sincerity. She honestly
did believe it would be better if they heard the news from Merdwin. Besides, she was not
sure how they were going to react and she wanted backup in case he got really upset or
something. He might insist on contacting Garshaw, which was something that absolutely
could not be allowed to happen.
“I will not ask any more questions, if you will answer only one for me,” He bargained with
her.
“All right. If I can answer it without going into an explanation, I will.” She smiled up at
him. “Here is my room. Come inside.” As Martouf walked farther into the room, Sam
subtly locked the door. She did not want anyone interrupting them. “What was your
question?” She asked, as she walked rather hesitantly toward them and away from the
door.
“Was General Hammond serious? Or is this some odd Tau’ri piece of humor?” Not
wanting her to see his face if she answered his questions by saying yes; he did not turn to
her, as he asked them.
“Actually, that is two questions; however, I will answer both of them. He is totally serious
and it is not humorous at all. You need to plan to be here for at least eight weeks, and
that is at the minimum. It is possible that it will take longer; however, any time over the
eight weeks will put us into a rather dangerous timeline. We really, truly need to be ready
to act before then, if at all possible.”
It was Lantash who turned around, and said, “I do not know the reason; still, I will tell you
that I am glad that we will be here, Samantha.” As Sam looked questioningly at him, he
smiled the smile that never failed to cause her to melt. Moreover, she was happy to
realize that it was indeed, Sam, who was melting, not Jolinar.
“Why are you glad, Lantash?” Sam asked, quietly, as she moved to stand directly in front
of him. She looked up at him and gazed steadily into his eyes while awaiting his answer.
He cleared his throat, and looked down for a moment, before raising his head enough to
look at her in a gesture that was extremely charming. He needed to stop smiling like
that. It made her want to kiss him senseless.
“I, that is, we, Martouf and I, have grown very fond of you, Samantha,” Lantash replied,
quietly, “and we welcome the chance to become better acquainted with you. We are
hoping that you will someday be able to separate your feelings for us from Jolinar’s
emotions. I, we, know that our feelings are our own and have nothing to do with our
feelings for her and Rosha. However, our situation is different, as we share our emotions
fully. You are sharing emotions without having the benefit of a lifemate. I wish…we
would change it for you if we could, my Samantha. It bothers us deeply that we cannot do
so.” He was very earnest and serious.
Sam fell in love all over again. She stepped closer to his body and realized that she could
smell the male scent of him. The scent she could now recognize as Lantash. She loved
the scent of him. She had never realized before that he had a scent all his own. Just as
Daniel did. Her breath caught. Just as Martouf did. How long had she been aware of
that? She wondered idly if all men had a scent all their own, and she just never paid
attention to it. Well, anyway, it did not matter if they did. The only scents she was
concerned with were theirs. She stood still simply breathing in and enjoying it; of its own
volition, her hand came to rest on his chest. She heard the quick intake of his breath.
Was he surprised? She spread her fingers and kneaded them gently into his chest. She
almost groaned aloud. Just touching him like this felt so good, she wanted to throw
herself on him and experience his entire body against hers.
“Samantha?” Lantash asked, somewhat dazedly.
“Yes, Lantash?” Her hand, again as if it had a mind of its own, slowly found its way up
and around his neck until it found the spot at the base of the head it was looking for, and
she slowly began to stroke him. Hearing a strangled gasp, she looked up into his face.
“Samantha, what are you doing?” Lantash finally managed to get out.
“Well, I hope I am pleasuring you,” she replied, her answer surprising her as much as him.
Lantash reached up taking a hold of her wrist, as he stepped back from her, and said,
“You do not know what you are doing, Samantha; you must stop. That is, it is,” drawing
another breath, he finally managed to tell her, “What you are doing is very…stimulating to
me, and therefore also to Martouf. You do not know where it will lead, and I do not wish
to alarm you with our passion; if you continued to, to stroke me in such a way, you would
see our passion very near to being out of control.”
Sam again stepped closer to him, only for him to back up a step. One more step. Lantash
was mesmerized by the look in those beautiful blue eyes. She did not answer him, and
the look in her eyes was one that he was afraid to believe. He took another step back and
immediately tumbled onto the bed. Sam smiled in satisfaction, and followed him down
onto the bed to lie beside him. As she lowered her head, she saw the look of wonder that
came to rest on his face. She was going to enjoy this; it was a heady feeling.
She urged him onto his side facing her, and her other hand found the spot on his back
that Kat had said could drive the symbiote to lose all reason, if you continued to caress it.
They did not have time for that, of course, but they had time for some other things.
Intimate things. Love things. Exploration. Learning. Seducing. Yes, they had time for
just a few things.
She heard a deep moan come from his throat, and suddenly, she was lying on her back
looking up into eyes that were brooding and intense. He was lying with one of his legs
over her holding her down. There was no mistaking the hard ridge that was pressing into
her hip. Feeling what she had done to him was increasing her own arousal. She wanted
him.
He grabbed her hands and held her wrists pinned on either side of her head, as he asked,
“Samantha, what are you doing? Why are you doing this? Do you have any idea what will
happen if you continue with what you are doing? I will not be able to control myself. Did
you not believe me a moment ago when I explained that to you?” Looking suddenly hurt,
Lantash asked her, “Is this some type of game you are playing?”
“This is no game, Lantash. I am not asking you to control yourself. Both of you are always
so restrained with me. So extremely cautious and careful. I will not break if you handle
me, and you will not scare me away, if you show some emotion. I need to know if you are,
or could be, more than fond of me, if we are to go forward with this.”
“And what of you, Samantha? The only thing you have ever told us is that you are afraid
your feelings are not yours, and you will not get involved in a relationship unless you can
sort them out and separate them from Jolinar’s emotions. What do you want from me,
from us? Are we supposed to give you the words so that you can throw them back at us?”
He asked angrily. “If emotion is truly what you want, I can show it to you, but I cannot
promise it will not frighten you. Shall we see if you genuinely want what you appear to be
asking of me? Are you actually ready to accept our passions for you?” He ground out.
As the last word left his mouth, he rolled completely on top of her pushing her down into
the bed with his weight. His mouth lowered to hers, and his kiss was no gentle
exploration; it was an assault on her senses. She struggled, wanting to touch him, and
that seemed to inflame him more. His mouth ravished her lips first, drinking in the
sweetness of them, and then the softness of her throat. Despite his words to her, his
touch was gentle and his kiss was a thoroughly delightful ravishing; there was nothing
rough or brutal about it in any way.
He released her wrists, only to use his hands to pull her t-shirt free and push it up under
her arms, exposing her breasts still covered in an odd piece of cloth. It was a flimsy piece
of nothing and ripped easily in his hands. His mouth immediately sought her nipples.
Even knowing that she would begin to resist any moment, he continued to ravish those
buds, to suckle and then lightly bite them taking care, even in his passion, not to hurt
her.
He filled his hands with the fullness of her breasts, alternately squeezing and rubbing
them. Moving his mouth to the top of her breast, he sucked until a bruise appeared and
then moved to give the other the same gently rough, but erotic treatment. As the
matching mark appeared, he moved back to her nipples, which had turned into hard
pebbles of need. He ravished them again and again, alternating licking and suckling,
with gentle nips and light bites.
His hips started a steady rhythm, rocking his hardened member against the apex of her
thighs, where he lay cradled. She wrapped her legs around him tightly and met each of
his thrusts with one of her own. She moaned in frustration—why, oh, why hadn’t they
taken these damned clothes off? She wondered feverishly.
Suddenly, he realized what he was doing—and what she was not doing. She was not
fighting him; she was encouraging him. She was holding his head to her breasts as she
moaned their names repeatedly. One hand was stroking his neck rhythmically. He sat
up dragging her with him. His breathing was ragged and his face was strained.
“Samantha.” He shook her slightly. “What does this mean? What are you doing?”
Sam realized that she was not being fair. She would like him to declare himself first, so
that she was safe and secure in the knowledge of their love before she had to say it.
However, she had given him little or no reason to think she might care for him in return.
The reality was that, even though they had yet to tell her that they loved her, she was
confident that they did. They used the word fond, but that was their protection. If they
did not tell her they loved her, then they could not be hurt if she turned them away.
Okay, it was time for that Carter courage to come forward.
Sam sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she took his face
gently in her hands and looked directly at him. “Lantash, Martouf, I love you. Both of
you.” She held her breath as she watched him. He closed his eyes and bowed his head.
Martouf came forward.
“We do not understand, Samantha.” Martouf both sounded and looked bewildered. The
last several minutes, no, not minutes, ever since they arrived on Earth, Samantha had
acted differently toward them. Her response to them was so far over and above even their
wildest dreams that they did not know how to respond. They were completely off balance
and thoroughly confused.
“I am sure you don’t. Look, I have known for a long time that I care about you. I just have
not been sure if what I was feeling was being,” she paused, trying to find the correct
words, “made stronger by Jolinar’s memories, or if they really were all mine. Today, when
you walked through the gate, I knew. I wish I had time to explain it all now, but I don’t. I
will tell you everything later, I promise. For now, please, just believe me, that today I
knew, without a doubt that I, Samantha Carter, love both of you.” She looked at him
waiting to see what, if any, response he would make.
“Martouf, I wish to take control, please. I must apologize for my behavior,” Lantash was
vehement in his anxiety. How could he have treated her in such a way?
“I agree. We should not have allowed ourselves to become so out of control. Please do
so.” Martouf was just as anxious not to spoil this moment with their previous behavior as
Lantash was. Because it was their behavior, not Lantash’s alone, for Martouf knew that
he had made no effort whatsoever to curb or stop him. They were equally guilty.
As Martouf’s eyes flashed, indicating that Lantash was taking control, Sam smiled at him.
She could almost read his mind already. She placed her fingers over his lips and then
leaned to press her lips to his in a swift gentle caress. “Please, don’t apologize. You did
nothing for which you need to apologize. I should have talked to you first, instead of
allowing my feelings to get the better of me. I am the one who should apologize for my
behavior, not you.”
Lantash motioned towards Sam’s chest saying, “I ripped your, er, clothing. If you will
allow me to apologize for nothing else, you must allow me to apologize for that. It was
inexcusable. I should have had more control. My only defense is that we have been
thinking of being with you in this way for months, and the last few days, thoughts of you
like this have been almost constantly in our minds. When you started caressing me in
that manner, I lost my control. I am sorry if I frightened you in any way, Samantha. I will
promise that it will never happen again.”
Sam chuckled lightly, as she smiled at him. “Please, don’t promise that. I found it very,
um, stimulating to know that I could do that to you. It was a very revealing look at myself,
and I liked what I saw, Lantash. I liked it very much.” By the end of her speech, Sam
was blushing furiously.
She clasped her hands to her cheeks as she shook her head. “I cannot believe I am
telling you these things.” She straightened and looked at him. “But, they are true. I do
feel that way, and I do love you and hope that someday you will come to love me the same
way.”
Lantash stared at Samantha unable to speak. “Tell her, Lantash. Do not just sit there.
Tell her! Give me control. I will tell her.” Lantash never had the chance to do Martouf’s
bidding. Sam reached down and stripped her t-shirt over her head once again stunning
them. “Then again, perhaps you should continue for the time being,” Martouf gasped, as
if he could not breathe. Sam proceeded to remove her bra and go over to her bureau for
another one.
“What is that?” Lantash finally managed to say in a strangled voice.
Sam stared at him. It had never occurred to her that he would not know what a bra was.
“It’s a bra.” She frowned. “Lantash, don’t the female Tok’Ra wear them? Did none of
your female hosts wear them?”
“I do not know if they wear them or not. None of those I have known did. They sometimes
wear a small formed garment, but nothing like what you are wearing. As for my female
hosts, I have never had one. I have only been in a female one time, and it was of a very
short duration. She was simply my way to reach the man who became my host.
Changing hosts that quickly is an extremely dangerous thing to do, however I had no
choice. It was the only way to meet and blend with my new host.” Then indicating her
bra once again with a wave of his hand, he asked, “What is its purpose?”
“It, um, it’s for, you know, support.”
“Support of what?” He wanted to know.
“My, um, my breasts,” Sam stumbled through the answer.
“Why? You have no need of such support, Samantha. Your breasts are quite firm and
beautiful.”
Sam blushed a fiery red. “That may be, but it is, um, uncomfortable if, say, I have to run
or something. It keeps them from, well, from bouncing, you know, which can, um, it can
sort of hurt.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe that I am standing here half naked
talking about body parts and underwear as if it is a perfectly normal topic of
conversation,” she finally mumbled.
“Tell her. Tell her now before she changes her mind,” Martouf was urgently encouraging
Lantash to tell their Samantha that they loved her, too.
“All right. All right, I will.”
“We love you, too,” Lantash suddenly blurted out. “Will you bond with us?”
“Not yet, it is too soon to ask her that. Take it back,” Martouf coached.
“Would you like to take over?” Lantash shot back.
“Yes,” Came the immediate reply.
Lantash turned control over to Martouf and he came forward to attempt to fix, or at least
mitigate any damage Lantash might have done.
“Are you asking me to, um, you know, sleep with you?” Sam asked suddenly, before he
could decide what he wanted to say to her. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to answer the
question if it was something more serious, although, she suspected that if he was asking
something else, she would say yes to that, too.
“Yes.”
She did not even hesitate or think about her answer, “All right. You can stay with me
tonight.” Finally getting her clothes back on and arranged she walked toward him.
“Would you like to practice until time for the briefing?” She asked with a smile that was
unconsciously seductive.
Martouf was sure he was going to embarrass himself in some way. He swallowed
nervously. Lantash was not offering to come forward. He watched as his hands reached
for her of their own accord. They clasped her securely on either side of her waist. He
watched as they slowly drew her nearer. As they continued to lead his arms to bring her
closer, to bring her in snuggly to fit sweetly to the length of him, he finally found his voice.
“Yes,” he breathed, as he lowered his lips to hers.
TBC
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