Life Will Go On

Author: Geonn

Email: neil_j_miser@yahoo.com

Rating: NC17

Pairings: Sam/Janet

Category: Angst

Warnings: Language, sexual situations

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

Spoilers: "2010," "There But For The Grace of God,"

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

Notes: The title is stolen from by Chris Isaak and, as always, used without permission.

Summary: Janet returns to Earth after SG-1's final mission in 2010.

Special Thanks to Hl for the banner.


This world will go on.

Dear God in Heaven, this world will go on.

I had hoped and prayed that a successful mission would mean we would cease to exist... that everything would be fine, no matter what the result of SG-1's final mission. As long as they got that goddamned piece of paper through, we wouldn't have to deal with the consequences... but I'm still here, so long after the time frame alloted, and nothing has changed. If they failed, then there would be no reason for anything to change. But if they succeeded, that meant that this world will go on. This world will die at the hands of the Aschen. All we managed to do was warn an alternate reality.

I feel myself walking through the Stargate terminal, but none of it feels real. The world is moving around me, but I don't feel my legs propelling me forward. It's as if I'm a few millimeters above the ground and the Earth is simply revolving past me. The logical part of my brain is telling me the reasons why this is impossible, but I ignore it. Hell, I ignored logical last night... why not now, when it can actually help me survive? I've only been gone twelve hours, and yet everything is back to normal. As if nothing has happened. As if no one tried to rush the 'Gate.

What if they didn't? What if Sam, Jack, Daniel and Teal'c are sitting downstairs in some kind of detention center. Could Joe have ratted them out? Told the Aschen what the plan was?

Even if he had, Sam would be protected. Joe had made O'Neill swear Sam wouldn't be a part of it and the colonel had agreed. Sam wouldn't be here, imprisoned or otherwise. She was safe, somewhere on Earth, and that was enough. I continue forward, trying like hell to seem as if I'm simply returning from a trip off-world. Just a nice, 12-hour vacation. Nothing to worry about, nothing to cause alarm.

Daniel waved. He raised two fingers and casually dropped them. God, he was saying good-bye...

I almost stumble, glancing to see if anyone is paying close attention to me. I see one of the bastard Aschen standing across the terminal, his detached gaze appearing to be focused on everything at once. But he always returns to me. I want to spit in his face for what he did to Sam... for what he did to humanity, but I force a smile and continue on my way. To keep the smile, I'm forced to think back to the few recent, happy memories I have: bare toes on shag carpet, the satin robe against my nude skin... soft kisses against flesh I thought was lost to me. Fingers fishing in the blonde hair that I always hated cut short.

I step into the sunlight and look around for a newspaper stand. I feel my heart pounding against my ribs as I spot it, moving quickly across the square as I dig in my pockets for a handful of change. I hand the money over to the vendor who hands me a small disk (which, due to habit I suppose, we still refer to as a newspaper instead of a disk). I thank him, my mind elsewhere, as I press the play button. The image of an elderly man appears a few inches off the face of the plate and I again curse the Aschen and their technology. Across the bottom of the screen, just underneath the newsman's name, are the words "Breaking News."

"Earlier today, a daring group of terrorists attempted to compromise the Stargate in Washington, DC. The automated defenses made short work of the five attempted terrorists, disabling them all before they were able to make it through the event horizon. As there were no survivors, there is no known reason for their determined dash to get off-world."

Five. Five, I curse. The hologram changes to a scene of the Stargate terminal moments after the threat had been negated. I paused the playback, squinting at the small picture. Two robed figures - Teal'c and his apprentice - were laying by the DHD, the staff weapons laying across their bodies looking like toothpicks in the small window. Daniel was on the side of the platform, his right arm outstretched towards the now-inactive Stargate. In the center of the steps was Colonel Jack O'Neill, his limbs splayed as if he had been crawling the last few inches....

And there... right in front of the Stargate... was a black suit jacket topped by a blonde head of hair. Her hand was right in front of where the event horizon would be, hopefully meaning she got a message through.

But it didn't matter. Whether the message had or hadn't gone through, it didn't matter. Sam was dead and this world will go on. I will have to go on without Samantha Carter. I drop the newspaper and begin to sob uncontrollably in the middle of the square. In a few minutes, an Aschen guard will ask me if I am all right, a concerned citizen will offer to escort me home, someone will offer me a drink of water, but none of it matters.

This world will go on.

---

After the initial scene had ended and the square had returned to normal, I picked myself up off the bench someone had led me to and walked towards the closest coffee shop. I needed caffeine and I needed it desperately. I found an empty table and ordered a cappuchino from the young girl. As she took my order, I found myself examining her features and trying to figure out how old she was. It used to be so easy; a girl like this could only be twenty or so. But with the Aschen drugs had come eternal youth. There was an extreme possibility that the woman serving me would never again see thirty. I sipped the cappuchino, yearning for the days of yore.

I remembered Grams and Gramps, sitting on their porch and telling us about the 'good old days.' Back when they were kids... back when sodas cost a penny and a fine meal cost a dime. They had claimed the world was going to hell in a handbasket. Well, Grams, Gramps... hell had come and gone and the woman I loved had helped deliver the handbasket. I leaned back in my chair, wondering how I had gotten back to Sam.

Sam, the beautiful, loving, tender, amazingly wonderful blonde Major who had been my lover for almost five years. Sam, the woman who so desperately wanted children of her own that she had ended our relationship. I still remembered our fight when she had revealed her plans. I had screamed at her... yelled until I cried. I remembered asking her about Cassandra and the words that had struck me to the core: Cassie's not really mine. Of course now, it's understandable; Sam wanted flesh-and-blood. She didn't love Cassie any less, but it... it wasn't the same as giving birth, nurturing and raising a child of your own.

We didn't speak to each other for a year after the break-up. I never examined her in the infirmary, never directly addressed her in the briefings I had to attend with her. I wasn't even invited to her wedding, which hurt me more than I had thought possible. We had finally mended our friendship a few months after she and Joe stopped being newlyweds and got down to the business of starting a family.

Only to have her dreams ripped out from underneath her. And, God, what poetic justice that good ol' Doc Fraiser was the one who had to tell her that she would never give birth. Those eyes... the tears would always haunt me. I knew what she was saying when she said the tests were wrong. Her first thought when I told her the results wasn't "The Aschen Were Lying," she immediately thought, "All This Time And Janet's Lying To Get Me Back."

She thought I would lie. Lie about something as life-changing, something as huge as *that.*

But the truth had come out.

The plan had been made.

The attack had happened.

Sam was dead.

She might have succeeded. She could have spared another universe from our fate, but what did it matter to *me*? Now? Sitting in this coffeeshop with the knowledge that four of my dearest friends had died? How the hell did saving an alternate reality help *me*? Call me selfish, but damn it I don't care. First Daniel's warning about the imminent Goa'uld attack saving our hides, now this. What, was the SGC just a series of alternate realities passing on the benefit of future knowledge? "Well, we screwed up this reality, let's give this other one a shot."

It took me a moment to realize I had spoken out loud and the waitress was looking at me from her post. I smiled shyly and gathered my things, heading for the transport. I could go home. I could go to Cassandra's. I could find Sarah and talk her into a night of wild sex (like it ever took much convincing with her). I could just curl up into a ball and cry until the Aschen do us in...

Finally, I decided to go home. Other than the Aschen lab, home was the last place I had been with Samantha. Being there would probably cause a lot of pain to surface, but I could've cared less. It was the good memories we had created before going on what we both knew would be a kamikaze mission. A fresh crop of tears appeared and I activated the transport before anyone around could see them.

---

The sudden brightness hurts my eyes as I turn on my apartment light, and I blink before taking a cursory glance around. I take a deep breath, then wonder how a place could change so drastically in the amount of time I'd been gone. The old leather chair in the corner had been in my house when Sam and I had first started sleeping together. She had claimed it as her chair and the claim went unopposed. It still creaked if the slightest amount of pressure was put on it and the springs had seen better decades, but I was not going to throw it out. I could look at the piece of junk and see Sam sitting in it with her legs tight against her chest and her chin resting on her knees. The playful smile as she wiggled her toes on the cushion, telling me to come see her surprise...

*Her surprise is that she's dead.*

I had also salvaged the couch where we shared our first kiss from my office back at Cheyenne Mountain. Photos of the blonde decorated every free surface, from the mantle to the kitchen counter. You could see Samantha Carter no matter where you were in the house, and the thought made me feel especially good. I dropped my housekeys on the table next to the door and wander into my living room as if I'm a guest waiting for the owner to arrive.

*Sam's dead.*

The voice inside of my head won't shut up. I move into the kitchen and see the red light flashing on my answering machine. I press the button, dismayed that there's only a text message: Mom! You're looking good in the outgoing video! Wish you could see mine; screen's busted... I just wanted to tell you that I'm doing fine and school is dandy. I found a wonderful book-slash-coffeeshop downtown that I just know would be perfect next time you and Sam come up. How is Sam, anyway? Haven't seen her in forever! Kisses and Hugs, Cassandra!

It hurt. I physically ached as I reread the passage asking how Sam was doing. 'Oh, sorry, sweetheart. Forgot to mention, Sam died. Oops, slipped my mind.' I push myself off the counter, forcing myself not to cry. It's a pointless fight, as my cheeks were already painted with tears.

Sam is Dead. I finally allow the mental voice to speak. It causes my eyes to pour forth another deluge. I'm on my knees now, my arm hooked on the counter in a weak attempt to hold myself upright. I close my eyes and I see, with crystal clarity, the Stargate terminal. Jack, Daniel and Teal'c are no longer there, but I can see Sam running for an active gate with all of her strength. Her arms and legs are pumping as lasers explode from the automated defense systems (Joe was an *ambassador,* couldn't he have arranged for a 'malfunction' of some sort? The prick).

She almost makes it to the event horizon, holding the note to the past in one hand, when one of the bolts pierces her side or her back or - God forbid - her head. She falls, her face a mask of tremendous pain as she falls forward. The note tumbles out of her hand and... and...

My eyes snap open. Sam's position. The way she was laying when she fell... Damn, why did I throw away the disk?! If there was a God in Heaven (and the events of the past ten years have made me seriously doubt that fact), then the note had nowhere to go *but* into the event horizon. Sam is dead, but she didn't die in vain. I pull myself up, thinking I could finally stop the tears. Sam's death had achieved a higher purpose.

The bottle of wine from the night before still sat on the edge of the counter and I picked it up, pulling the cork free and taking a long swig. Two glasses were sitting on the coffee table and I could see lipstick marks on both. Sam's lipstick. I swallow my mouthful of wine and lean against the counter, thinking back to that encounter not twenty-four hours ago...

---

As I climbed out of the shower, I looked at the clock for the third time in twenty minutes. If all went well, Sam was speaking to Joe about getting the GDO off the President's desk. I toweled off, not bothering to dry my hair or put on any face cream. I found the robe in the closet - the silk one that ended at the very top of my thighs - and wrapped it around myself, enjoying the feel of the silk against my skin. My plans included getting into bed, curling up with an old book and waiting for morning... there was no way I would sleep knowing what we had planned for tomorrow. As I pinned my wet hair up, there was a knock on the door.

The thought that I was practically nude didn't occur to me as I headed for the front door; in retrospect, I can't help but wonder if part of me already knew who it was. I opened the door just as my guest was beginning to knock again, leaving the blonde's hand hovering in mid-air where the door had once been. A weak smile pulled on the corners of Sam Carter's lips and I smiled back. "Hello, Sam." I held the door open a bit wider, inviting her in.

"Thanks," she breathed, easing her way into my apartment. I closed the door behind her, pausing for a moment before I turned the lock. "I-I talked to Joe," she said, standing in the entrance to my living room.

I hugged myself, looking down at my silk robe. 'You always loved this robe,' I thought at her. 'Say something... mention how good I look. Forget Joe for a minute.' I blink, then look at her and say out loud, "Will he do it?"

She turned, nodding slowly. "He'll do it."

"Great," I said. We could've been talking about whether or not the dry cleaner down the street will get ink out of a uniform top. "Want some wine?"

Her head slowly bobbed up and down, then moved with more certainty. It was a delayed reaction, much like newscasters who were in the field awaiting the signal from the studio to reach their earpiece. Of course, that too was a thing of the past. Bastard Aschen. I moved into the kitchen and found my bottle of fifteen-year-old Chateau Rothschild, noting with a chuckle that the SGC hadn't even existed fifteen years ago. I poured two glasses, pointing out the irony of the date, and handed one glass to Sam. She raised her glass and said, "A sip from happier times."

I tapped her glass with mine and drank slowly, keeping my eyes on her. The beauty of a wine glass was that the drinker's mouth remained visible during the tip-back. I could see Sam's rosy lips part, forming a small diamond that the crimson wine flowed past. When she lowered the glass once more, the tip of her tongue darted out and gathered the moisture left on her upper lip. I was about to say something inane about the weather when she dropped a bombshell. "Joe knew."

I swallowed hard, forcing my hand to place my glass on the counter. "He... He knew? Knew what?"

Her eyes were sparkling now. "He knew," she whispered, touching her cheek with the back of her right hand. "He knew that the Aschen were trying to-to control the population." She chuckled loud and mirthlessly. "He called it population control. And he knew. He claimed it was supposed to be less than this, but when you're damned, you're damned, right?" She stood and walked into my living room. Like an obediant puppy, I followed.

Sam fingered the old leather of her favorite chair as her monologue continued. "You know, I wanted kids so goddamn fucking bad... and the piece of shit I left you for ends up being the grand dragon of the Human Sterilization Process. And he's so fucking calm about it. Like he's talking about the fucking weather." She kicked the chair, causing it to tip violently backwards. The ancient springs protested as it returned to it's normal position. "Piece of shit. *Piece of shit*."

She ran her hands through her hair, then began pacing. "He knew that I couldn't have babies and what did he do? He tells me we have to keep trying. What a fucking novel way to get into someone's pants, huh? 'Gee, honey, I don't think that worked; maybe if you give me a blow job first. Maybe if we brought in another person.' Fucking prick!" She turned and kicked the chair again, this time causing it to tilt to one side. "He knew. He knew that I was never going to have a baby and he let me hope. Hope for a child that would never come." Her face was streaked with tears. "That motherfucking, assfucking, piece of shit prick even let me *name* the babies he knew we'd never have." She sobbed, dropping to her knees.

I moved  to her side, gingerly touching the back of her head. She looked up at me and lightly ran her fingers over my stomach. Her touch was electrifying through the silk. She stood, keeping one hand on my stomach. "And I come here... for comfort... and you answer the door looking like sex on a plate in this beautiful robe." Her free hand brushed a stray hair from my face. She whispered, "I want to make love to you so badly." Her lips fluttered against the corner of my eyes and I trembled. It's been so long... so long...

"Seven years," she breathed, as if reading my mind. "Seven years since you and I touched... like this..."

The hand on my stomach moved up to cup my breast. Her palm is warm against my robe and I raise my head to look into her eyes. "You're married," I weakly argue.

Her hands move to my mid-section and slowly begin working to untie my belt. "It's over tomorrow," she promised. "One way or another, I'm not staying married to that prick." She kissed the tip of my nose, then straightened slightly and buried her face in my hair. "I've missed your touch, Janet. God, you're the only person for me. Why couldn't I see that?" Her hands move into my robe and began playing across skin still moist from the shower. "Make love to me, Janet. I can't risk my life tomorrow without showing you how much I love you."

I step back, forcing her hands out of my robe. The two halves are hanging open, revealing the insides of my breasts and the brown patch of hair between my legs. I don't move to cover up; it's nothing she hasn't seen a million times before. But this time there's a strange sort of hungriness in her eyes that makes me tremble in ways I had long ago given up on feeling again. She was married. She was going on a kamikaze mission in less than a day. Her husband had betrayed her. I never believed in adultery. I never cheated on my promiscuous husband. But now... wedding rings be damned.

I bit my bottom lip and rolled my shoulders, shrugging the silk robe off my shoulders. I stood before her, naked, tears in my eyes as I found my voice and said, "Come to the bedroom with me, Sam."

She cried as she said, "Thank you."

We held hands on the way to the bedroom, turning off all the lights along the way. For all intents and purposes, I should've felt awkward; I was completely nude, while Sam was still wearing her jacket and everything else. Sure, we had been lovers, but that was seven years ago! I felt so at ease with her that I doubted I would shrink away and pull a t-shirt on before going to sleep. The idea of spooning up against Sam Carter's nude body after making love to her once more caused me to tremble again. I pushed open the door to my bedroom and led Sam inside.

Knowing she'd only been in this room once (and wanting to see her beautiful body after all this time), I left the bedside lamps on as I pulled the blankets away from the mattress. The light blue sheets remained in place and I turned to face Sam. I was breathless, my heart hammering and my skin flushed. "Take off your clothes," I hissed to Sam, my eyes wide.

She chuckled, moving across the room and putting her hands on my shoulders. "You're getting over-excited," she whispered. "Calm down, love." Her hands moved up my neck, pausing to glide down and trace my collarbone before traveling back up towards my face. Only Samantha Carter could make love to me without touching me below the neck... I felt twin roses of color growing in my cheeks as the arousal built; it was like having every woman I'd ever fantasized about touching me at once.

I felt her brilliant thumbs on my chin, her long fingers splayed over my cheeks and feeling the warmth of my blush. Her thumbs pressed gently against the divot below my lower lip and I opened my mouth, knowing this is just what she wants. Her fingers slid up, so that they're even with my ears, as she held her thumbs over my parted lips. I knew she could feel my breath on the tips of her thumbs. I pursed my lips and gently sucked her thumbs, causing her to sigh.

Her sigh... I love her sigh...

She moved her hands from my mouth and tilted my head upward. Damn height difference. Closing the distance, she gently wrapped her lips around my top lip and gently sucked on it... sweeping it with her tongue in an erotic dance of seduction. My stomach was fluttering; it's very, very close. "I love you." The words were as quiet as the wind and went almost unheard. As soon as they reached my ears, I was unsure which of us had said it. A low, tender endearment devoid of inflection of tone, as if the words had been whispered by a passing phantom. Sam and I looked at each other in confusion and mutually decided it didn't matter who had said it; both of us felt it. We smiled and, our minds in synch as always, mouthed, "I love you, too."

She was still wearing her goddamn jacket.

My fingers moved along the base of her skull, eventually finding themselves trapped in her so-short blonde hair. I had always hated it cut short, but I wasn't exactly in the mood to complain. I pulled her down, my fingers tensing against the back of her head as I captured her lips in our first full-on kiss of the evening. God, she was making me so damn weak in the knees... just like old times. I collapsed forward and - as always - she caught me, hooking her hands under my arms and lifting me off my feet. I obediently wrapped my legs around her mid-section and locked my ankles in the small of her back.

She turned, moving to the bed and laying me down on the mattress. Slowly, she rose, leaving my legs locked tightly around her waist while examining my face as if mapping out a terrain. She brought her head down slowly, first pressing the chastest of kisses against my forehead and then skimming her mouth along my hairline. There was a barely-noticeable sensation of wetness in the wake of her kisses, a sensation that was deepened when she lifted her head and blew gently over her path. 'God,' I asked myself, trying to remember the move, 'what the hell is *this* and why didn't she do it when we were together?'

Before I had time to comment on what she had just done, she was back at it. I felt her fingers on my face once more and she started kissing the oft-ignored skin between my eyebrows. I closed my eyes, my whole body trembling in anticipation of her next move. Please please please, Sam, God, I need you, please, Sam, don't tease me, God, I need this, Sam!

The index finger and thumb of her right hand hooked my chin and pulled it downward, opening my mouth wide. I began panting, my lungs desperate to find oxygen where none apparently existed. She kissed the corners of my mouth, her breath warm against my wet lips. "Please," I whispered, though it sounded more like 'pweafth' with my mouth held open. Her mouth hovered for a moment, just the slightest of touches before she closed the distance and captured my mouth in her warm, wet kiss. I raised off the bed, using her as leverage, and pressed myself tightly against her.

She broke off the kiss, winning a whimper from me, then slowly traced the side of my throat with her tongue. Her hands were moving between my back and the mattress, making me feel as if my entire upper body was airborne. It was nothing like when we had been together before... that had been phenomenal love-making. Sensational, outstanding and unequivocal. This... this was indescribable.

I felt her lips and teeth working on my breasts, one hand massaging while her tongue softly swept across my nipple. I could feel 'it' building between my legs... a wave beginning to crest and rapidly heading towards the shore. Sam was no doubt aware of my impending doom; she had caused it often enough in the past to see the warning signs. I felt her reluctantly release my nipples, giving them one final taste before descending to my stomach. The taut skin of my abdomen was covered with sweat, glistening in the poor light of my bedroom. She swept her tongue across my skin, forming an invisible box around my navel which she then began to suckle. Her lips closed around the small button, her tongue flicking and playing inside my belly button. I wanted to scream at her that that wasn't where I wanted her lips, but I was far beyond mere speech at that moment. Any command I wanted to give would've been heard as 'ahha... mmm.'

She raised her head, peering at the thin patch of brown hair nestled between my legs. The evidence of my impending orgasm visible in the short curls. She dipped her head down, finally kissing me where I desperately needed to be kissed. She found my clit as if we had never been apart, nipping it playfully before she began to lap at my slit. She was like an eager puppy... I buried my hands in her hair, making sure she didn't try to go anywhere else. Sam was nothing if not a tease... She pulled back as much as I would let her and sucked two of her fingers into her mouth. Our eyes locked as she wet her digits, then slowly brought them down against my nether lips. I gasped as she pressed her wet fingers deep into me....

And that's when it hit.

It started in my stomach, a quiet rumbling that I normally would've associated with hunger pangs. I tightened my grip on her head, telling her in our own secret language that I was going to cum. Her tongue dug deep into me, as if trying to find my orgasm and draw it out. I collapsed against the mattress, closing my eyes and shivers ran from my stomach, up into my breasts. My entire torso suddenly felt warm in the relative cool of the bedroom. The blush rose until it reached my face, darkening my cheeks even as I felt the wave roll down my arms and through my fingertips. The return trip was much faster, a sudden and unstoppable wave of spasms rushing from my head to my toes and stopping in my midsection. I cried out, the release so welcome and needed... I could feel hot tears pouring down my face as I filled Sam's mouth. She wasn't letting up, simply taking and enjoying what I offered.

When I finally felt the flow beginning to subside, Sam rose so I could see her face. She reached up, offering me her index and middle fingers, pressing them against my lips. I tasted myself and the sweet, unmistakable flavor of Samantha Carter, swirling my tongue around her fingers before I allowed her to taste them herself. She smiled and kissed me, pulling herself up so that our bodies were more-or-less symmetrical (as I said, damn height difference). She kissed my eyes and then pulled me in for a deep, long, passionate kiss.

There were tears in her eyes when we broke apart, her hands tracing my features. "Janet," she whispered.

"Shh," I admonished, putting my fingers to her lips. "Don't say anything." I knew, that whatever she said, the meaning would be good-bye. I wasn't in the mood to hear that. "Just let me..." I propped myself up on one elbow and slowly began to unbutton her blouse.

---

The wine was gone by the time I finished remembering the previous night. I stood, leaving the wine bottle on the floor, and walked across the room in a hazy fog. It had been a long, long time since I had been this drunk and I wasn't looking forward to the hangover I would be feeling the next day. I found the CD I had been looking for and placed it in the player. The bastard Aschen had introduced something called a JKL, but I would be damned if I would find solace in something those assholes had created. I pressed play, going to the appropriate track and hitting play.

I went into the kitchen, tears starting anew as I searched for something else that had alcohol in it. I needed liquor and I needed it badly. Finally, I found another old bottle of wine and popped the cork. Cheers. Happy New Year. I took a swig and walked to the window, looking over the city that had no damned idea that their world was ended. The Aschen were our saviors. I said that... with Daniel and Sam and Teal'c... I pressed the back of my hand to my lips, hoping that somehow, someway, life would go on in another world. Maybe... maybe in another world, Sam and Janet had a chance. Maybe, just maybe, the note would convince them to stay together.

In another world.

But as for this world? This world will go on. For a time...

End


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