Janet kept her head meekly bowed as Rubio led her in from the balcony, the free end of the handcuff chain wrapped around his hand. A precaution in case she decided to escape, she supposed. Though she'd made no attempts while in his care, if she'd thought success was a possibility, she might have gone ahead and tried, since she'd apparently lost the only supporters she had in the place.

She glanced at Elyana where the young woman stood nearby, her head down, her expression bland and withdrawn, then back at Rubio, whose every glance in her direction amounted to a furious glare.

None of them had spoken more than ten words since her pronouncement that, if necessary, she would trade herself to protect them. Rubio had started to say something at the time only to fall silent, while Elyana had simply stared at her for a long moment, the knowledge that she had set these events in motion reflected in pale eyes. Seeing her draw breath, Janet had known instinctively that she intended to confess her part in the debacle, and shaken her head. Elyana had enough problems without alienating her husband. Janet had made the judgment call to tell Sam the truth. It only seemed fair that she be the one to bear the consequences. Or maybe it was just that she liked the young woman, and couldn't bear the thought of any further difficulties being heaped on her head. The girl reminded her of Cass in some ways; hurt too much too young, with a serious nature forced on one that should have been far more innocent. It made them both harder and softer than those around them. She closed her eyes, thoughts of her adopted daughter momentarily overwhelming. God, she missed Cassie like hell, even if the relationship was sometimes tense. Inheriting an adolescent moving into her teen years was not necessarily the best introduction to parenthood, but despite everything, Cass had come out okay -- more than okay. God, the poor kid was probably scared to death imagining everything that might have happened to she and Sam.

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't realize that Rubio had stopped and turned to face her until she collided with his arm, He reached out, steadying her, then pulled his hand back, staring down at her. For the first time since Sam's exit, he didn't look like he'd enjoy a chance to wrap his hands around her throat. "Did you mean it," he asked quietly, "when you said you'd trade yourself to save Elyana?" There seemed to be no doubt in his voice that the deal would be accepted. Rubio might not be as attuned to the shifting emotions as his wife, but he wasn't a fool.

Her stomach doing a fair impression of a pretzel, Janet nodded. "It's my fault ... if Ezri finds out." She reached out, resting a hand on the young guard's forearm, wanting him to understand. "I didn't do it to hurt you ... either of you. I just thought...." She trailed off, closing her eyes and shaking her head as the enormity of it all threatened to wash her into a very deep emotional abyss. In spite of everything, she'd believed there was enough of Sam left to make her do the right thing. The thought that maybe she'd been wrong sickened her. "I thought she'd help," she admitted at last, still shaking her head, her voice sad. "It just didn't occur to me she might ... might not." Close to tears at the thought that Sam might be capable of hurting the young couple so intent on serving her loyally, she had to fight to get the words past the tightness in her throat. "I can't explain ... but I really thought she'd help." Unfortunately, as more time passed, Janet was growing increasingly frightened that Sam might just turn Elyana back to her master. Maybe the brainwashing  had made her so loyal to the system that she'd consider it the moral thing to do and not see the base evil of slavery.

"And so I shall," the voice was soft and oddly soothing, its impact freezing everyone in place for the span of a heartbeat.

Janet tipped her head up, eyes going round as she saw the woman standing in the doorway, her eyes intense, her lean frame full of coiled tension.

Sam was back.

She stood stiffly in the doorway for a long moment, the only motion, her eyes as they slid over Janet, taking in the dark rust gown she wore, lingering on the deep décolletage. When she looked up again, naked hunger momentarily shone in her gaze before it was banished behind a cool wall.

At the same time, Rubio took a half step forward, his head swinging momentarily in his wife's direction before he looked back at Sam. "My Queen," he said tersely.

Janet fell back a step, watching Sam closely for some clue as to what she'd done, relieved when the other woman turned her attention to the guard. A flicker of hurt crossed Sam's face when he faced her stiffly, his expression suspicious almost to the point of belligerence. Straightening her shoulders, she waved Elyana over and strode forward as though nothing was amiss. An encouraging smile on her lips, she held out the paper in her hand. "This is yours, I believe."

Taking it, Elyana stared at the paper for a long moment, then up at Sam, while her husband read it over her shoulder. She swallowed hard, shellshocked by the import of what she held. "I ... is this ... really...."

"I made sure it was properly filed ... so there's no question ... and no cause for anyone to protest," Sam assured her when Elyana seemed unable to continue.

The younger woman nodded unsteadily, while Rubio just kept staring at the paper in shock. "You got Sire Ezri to release me," she croaked at last, barely able to get the words out.

Janet's eyes slid closed, and she released a shuddery sigh of relief, grateful that the young couple was going to be all right ... and also that Sam hadn't disappointed her. No matter how many lies she'd been made to believe, the woman Janet knew was still in there. When she looked up again, the blonde was staring at her intently, though she settled a hand on Elyana's shoulder and directed her words to the maid. "You have your freedom now. Use it wisely." She took the other end of the handcuff chain from Rubio -- though he barely noticed -- as he pulled his wife into a hard hug, burying his face in the curve of her neck, the emotion so intense both young people were on the verge of tears.

It lasted a long moment, and then Rubio lifted his head, glancing back over his shoulder at Sam. "Why?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. It was the last thing he'd expected from his past experience with royals.

"I told you before, I value loyalty..." Sam slipped a hand into a pocket on her cloak, retrieving a small bag of coins that jingled softly as she held it out. "...far more than gold." She tucked it into his hand.

He looked down at the bag, then back up at her. "My Queen, after this, I can't--"

"Take it ... for the child." She offered a gentle smile. "Now, get out of here. Take the rest of the evening off and spend the night with your wife. You've both earned it."

He nodded unsteadily, too emotionally choked up to speak. He glanced back at Janet where she stood off to the side, totally silent. He didn't speak, but his eyes reflected the sudden influx of worry, his anger replaced by gratitude now that everything had turned out well.

Sam saw his glance and easily divined its meaning. "Don't worry. I can handle things here." The softly spoken words had a double meaning that sent another hard shudder through Janet, the tremor rattling the chains softly. Sam glanced back, raw hunger momentarily gleaming in her eyes.

Clearly worried, Elyana reached out, resting a hand lightly on Sam's forearm in an effort to intercede. "She was trying to help."

"I know." Sam nodded to indicate the door. "Now, off you go." Her attention never wavered from her prisoner.

Hesitant to leave, Elyana paused where she was, but Rubio tugged lightly on her arm. "Come." He glanced at Sam, hiding his worries a little better than his wife, but not much. "Our queen wishes her privacy."

Sam didn't speak this time, simply nodded in acknowledgment, while Janet had to fight the urge to beg them to stay. There was an intensity to her friend's looks, a hunger, but also an aura of possessiveness that scared the hell out of her. She couldn't forget that kiss on the balcony. Unlike the awful attack that had resulted in her banishment from Sam's presence, it hadn't been intended to punish or hurt. Insistent and tender at the same time, it had conquered her fears and drawn her in, promising love and shelter, and eventually making resistance impossible. At some point, she'd surrendered in spite of herself, and she was far from certain that she could resist another such onslaught any better. After everything she'd already been through, the need for comfort from one of the few people she'd always been able to trust was too tempting for her to have much hope that she could hold herself back.

An uncomfortable moment of silence followed, while the four players in the drama all looked uncertainly from one to another. "Go on," the blonde said at last, her voice soft, but with a confident note of command. With little else to say or do, the servants finally had no choice but to leave. Sam stood perfectly still as they left, silently watching until the doors were pushed closed in their wake. She appeared to take a moment to get her emotional footing, then did a slow turn, eyes sliding appreciatively over her prisoner, her desire far too palpable to be ignored now that they were alone.

Afraid of what that look portended, Janet backed up until the chain that bound them together was stretched to its fullest length, then stood poised as if to flee even as it occurred to her that she had nowhere to run. The manacle was wrapped around her right wrist, and Sam held the other end in her right hand ... an unbreakable physical link between them that denied her any hope of escape.

"Come here," Sam said very softly, her voice low and intense, eyes gleaming with a complex tangle of emotions that did nothing to slow Janet's rapidly accelerating pulse.

Janet just shook her head and backed up another step, her arm outstretched to gain the space needed. She felt her heart hammering against the inside of her ribcage. Instinct told her that the other woman had no intention of stopping this time, and she was determined not to play along.

Sam accepted the refusal without argument and took a coaxing tack instead. "You knew to trust me with Rubio and Elyana's secret. You know to trust me now," she said and held out her free hand invitingly. "Now come here." While there was no anger in the softly spoken command, there was a frighteningly intense note of possession.

Janet was tempted. There was no denying it. She'd long turned to Sam during difficult times and for once there was no anger in the other woman. Maybe she could reach her; talk to her; remind her who she was and--

A light tug on the handcuff chain served as a stark reminder of the situation, drawing the doctor's eyes down to the beautifully etched manacle that encased her wrist. The point was duly made. Talking wasn't what the other woman had in mind.

"Now," Sam said very softly, her voice throbbing with emotions she'd always kept locked behind very thick walls in her real life; emotions Janet had longed to hear, and which made refusing harder than she would have thought possible.

All too aware of the dangerous swirl of emotions, Janet spun away, needing to break the spell cast by familiar blue eyes. "Whatever game you're playing, please don't." she begged raggedly. The aching desire directed her way was almost worse than the anger. It promised a false haven that threatened to spill them both deeper into the abyss.

"It's no game," Sam murmured, and Janet suddenly felt pressure on the manacle that encased her wrist. She spun to find the other woman taking up the slack by wrapping the chain around her hand. Blue eyes searched brown for a long moment. "You were ready to offer yourself to save Elyana," she said at last.

Janet tensed, the tightly coiled anger that was always with her flaring to life and giving her a brief respite from the desire to simply trust and surrender. "Is that what this is about," she demanded bitterly, "payment for services rendered?"

The blonde winced, paling ever so slightly. "No," she insisted instantly. "This is between you and I ... nothing more, nothing less."

Janet turned away again, needing to block out the way the other woman was looking at her. None of it was real, she reminded herself; not the caring looks, nor the coaxing tone of voice, nor any of the other things that made "Queen Terreis" seem entirely too much like the woman she knew and loved. As much as she hated it, under the current circumstances, they were captive and captor. "Except you're a great deal more ... and I suppose I'm a great deal less," she said in an effort to remind herself of her precarious position and gain some emotional distance.

Sam took another wrap on the chain, forcing Janet to turn her way. "Is that what your masters told you ... that you're less than others?"

Janet just shook her head, too frustrated by the notion of trying to explain that she had no masters. It was like beating her head against the wall, and she was in no mood for the emotional concussion that invariably resulted when she made the effort. "It doesn't matter," she sighed and would have turned away again, but Sam took another wrap in the chain, forcing her to take a half step closer and denying her any opportunity to avoid the situation for even a moment.

"You tried to help Rubio and Elyana ... and were ready to offer yourself if your efforts had failed. Why?" she asked, the genuine note of curiosity in her voice almost more perilous than the anger and accusation that were so commonplace.

Janet's eyes slid closed for a moment, and a tiny shudder slid through her. "No one should be a slave," she said very softly, her voice throbbing with emotion, "and that girl shouldn't have to wonder who the father of her child is." That was so wrong at every level.

"No," Sam exhaled with quiet sincerity, "she shouldn't."

The much needed sympathy and caring sent a bolt of unwanted warmth through Janet, driving her to spin away, her heart hammering painfully fast, barely able to breathe. It would be so easy to just let herself pretend for a little while and sink into arms she instinctively knew would be both protective and possessive in a way that frightened and drew her at the same. It's not Sam, she reminded herself as she cut that thought off, at least not the Sam she knew ... or who knew her. The taller woman took another wrap in the chain, but this time Janet steadfastly refused to be pulled around and simply dropped her arm, allowing it to be dragged back at an angle.

"No matter who sired it, that child is Rubio's now," Sam's said, her voice silky and seductive, but at the same time forceful in a way that refused to be denied. "That's all that matters." She took two wraps this time, giving her captive no choice but to turn until she was standing sideways, arm outstretched, eyes blazing.

"Bringing me to heel?" the doctor demanded, summoning every last bit of resentment and anger she could muster as she gave the chain a sharp yank in an effort to gain a little space.

Sam shrugged, muscles taut where she clung to the chain, refusing to give any ground. "Accepting reality," she disagreed, keeping her tone soft, almost soothing, as she took another wrap in the metal links tethering them together, forcing Janet within arm's reach. "Things can't go on the way they are." Another wrap ate the last of the chain and left her knuckles nudged up against a slender forearm. "And you know it as well as I do." She reached out with her free hand, barely brushing her fingers along the arch of her prisoner's cheekbone. "Something has to give." And god knew, that wasn't likely to be her -- not when she believed she was a queen with a right to anything -- or anyone -- she cared to have.

The doctor yanked her head back, breaking the tenuous contact as she spun away, mind racing in an effort to find a way out of the situation. Sam increased the tension on her wrist and she tried to yank her hand back with a hissed, "Don't."

Sam didn't allow even that small measure of freedom, instead drawing so close she was almost touching her prisoner's narrow back. She rested her left hand on Janet's left shoulder. "Were you a slave?" she asked gently, as though afraid of causing more pain. "Is that why you care so much for Elyana's feelings?"

"I care because she and Rubio are good people," Janet sidestepped the question, tired of having her every word questioned and doubted. She would have stepped away, but Sam tightened her hold just enough to end any thoughts of gaining space. "They don't deserve to be hurt."

"No," Sam agreed, her breath ruffling auburn hair, "they don't." She reached around to draw Janet's chin to the side, leaning forward until their eyes met over the smaller woman's shoulder. "And perhaps you don't either." The words were softly uttered, the look in her eyes warm and seductive.

A part of Janet melted and broke at the same time. "Then why are you doing this?" she demanded, blinking to clear the tears glossing her eyes, barely able to speak past the tightness in her throat. She stared up at her friend, willing her to understand what she was asking and back off before it went any farther.

Sam shook her head slowly, denying the charge, her eyes liquid. "Believe me, the last thing I want to do is hurt you." She continued rhythmically stroking a soft cheek. "I needed to know who you are ... that inhuman cruelty isn't your real nature." She sighed softly, leaning forward, and burying her face in silky hair. "I was afraid you weren't even human ... that you enjoyed the pain and death inflicted on my people." She straightened, staring down into dark eyes with hypnotic intensity, fingers still moving lightly against her skin. "I know you're scared ... but I'm not like your past masters ... I'll take care of you ... and I know that you can feel ... care about others...."

Struggling silently, Janet tried to twist her wrist free, but Sam had it too effectively pinned. Instead of giving ground, the taller woman shifted her hold, wrapping her right arm around Janet's waist and pinning her arm against her own chest. With her prisoner effectively contained, she levered her even closer.

"Don't do this," Janet whispered, nearly overwhelmed by the temptation to simply accept fate. No matter who this woman claimed to be, or what their situation, it was Sam's eyes she was staring into, Sam's hands that were touching her, Sam's body pressed against her back ... and Sam's mouth that came down to taste her own. Still enough in control to fight the kiss, every muscle in her body knotted in an effort to regain her freedom. Unfortunately, she was nowhere near strong enough to win any physical confrontation.

"Shhh," Sam hushed when their lips parted. Dusting tiny kisses over soft cheeks, she dropped the hand braced along the curve of Janet's jaw to her upper chest, pinning her free arm against her side. "Trust me...." Her voice dropped low, becoming deliberately seductive. "Let me care for you...."

Teeth gritted, Janet shook her head vehemently, desperately fighting the urge to do exactly as Sam wanted, and relax into hands that were remarkably gentle despite the force needed to contain her struggles. She was so tired of fighting and being scared all the time. Sam had protected her so many times in the past and a part of her was certain she would even now. "I can't ... don't ask me to," she begged. Lips brushed her cheek and ear as she turned her head away, the caress like warm velvet against her skin.

"I have to," Sam exhaled and her lips closed on Janet's earlobe, nibbling gently while graceful fingers toyed with the front laces on her bodice, tugging at the tight knot. "You're mine now." Her hand rose, drawing her prisoner's head back around to claim soft lips. "And I'll make sure the bastards who hurt you can never touch you again."

Misguided though it was, the quiet proclamation was achingly sincere, and Janet couldn't contain a soft gasp, deeply touched in spite of herself. In an instant, her mouth was reclaimed, the faint parting of her lips making way for the gentle invasion of Sam's tongue. The doctor didn't want to respond, even tried to resist the soft stroking roughness that made her pulse pound and reminded her of all the intimacies circumstances had denied them both, but it was hopeless. She'd wanted Sam too much for too long; loved her too much for too long. Despite herself, she sank into the kiss.

Eyes glazed by passion, Sam finally pulled back no more than a hand's breadth. "You don't need to be afraid anymore," she whispered, then ducked her head, lips trailing down the length of Janet's throat, nuzzling into the curve of her shoulder as she began working the laces of her bodice loose. "I'll take care of you."

A tiny whimper escaped Janet's throat, her blood burning with unwanted arousal, her every effort to gain some distance and some sanity neatly blocked by the woman holding her. "And who'll protect me from you?" she demanded, using the only weapon left even though she half expected to trigger the dangerous rage again.

Suddenly tense, Sam straightened, but there was no sign of anger in her serious expression. "I'm sorry for what happened," she said very softly and leaned forward to press a small kiss to Janet's forehead. "I was wrong," she added, the look in her eyes heart-meltingly soft, "about you ... and it won't happen again." She ducked her head, lips just barely brushing her captive's. "Trust me," she said again, the words coming out as a heartfelt plea. "Trust yourself to me...."

Wondering how the hell she was supposed to resist something she'd wanted for so damn long, Janet couldn't contain a small moan in response to the kiss that followed, her mouth soft and yielding this time. She was so damned tired of fighting when she didn't have a prayer of winning. As the laces on her bodice came loose, an agile hand slipped inside her blouse, shaping to the rounded curve of a full breast and stroking gently.

"Give yourself to me," Sam urged. Using words to seduce, she just kept talking, her voice soft and coaxing, drawing Janet in and promising her a harbor in the storm "Let me take care of you...." Nibbling on a delicate earlobe, she tugged the front of the bodice open and slid her fingers down to the waistband of the skirt. "Hold you and keep you safe...."

A tiny whimper escaped Janet's lips, Sam's tenderness and gentle entreaties close to shattering her resolve completely. Weeks of struggling to maintain some sense of herself in a world turned upside down had left her longing for a little closeness and human comfort. "We can't," she moaned and tried to push the hand at her waistband away without success.

"We can," Sam disagreed, still using that soft, sensual tone. She tugged Janet's blouse free of her waistband and slid her hand underneath to stroke her stomach lightly, her touch warm and intensely sensual. "We will." Eyes gleaming with growing hunger, she ducked her head, the kiss that followed soft but demanding, as her mouth moved against her prisoner's, building to greater intensity with every passing second.

Harsh tremors shaking her from head to toe, Janet made one final attempt to regain her freedom, tearing her mouth away from Sam's, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "I don't want this," she groaned. Not entirely true. Emotionally and physically, she wanted it desperately. It was just that intellectually, she knew damn well it was the worst thing that could happen. She was already dancing dangerously close to Stockholm Syndrome. Add sex to the mix and maintaining any semblance of sanity might well become impossible. Her feelings for Sam were too deep and intense, and in a situation where their normal level of equality and respect weren't present, that could be a very large albatross around her neck.

The hand at her waist slid up her torso, trailing fire during the journey, to cup the side of her face refusing to allow her to turn away. "Liar," Sam accused, though a hint of a smile teased her lips. She stroked a full lower lip with the pad of her thumb. "I can see it in your eyes ... feel the heat on your skin ... the way you're breathing ... trembling. You want," she said softly, but with utter finality. She released her hold on the chain, letting it unravel until it was dangling at Janet's side and reached out, guiding the other woman around until they were facing each other. "You want as much as I do," she groaned, her voice rumbling softly. The chain forgotten, she reached out, stroking Janet's cheek, then along her jaw and down the length of her throat. "Need as much as I do."

"Damn you," Janet breathed almost inaudibly, resentful of the desire and temptation being forced on her. Sam's other hand slid down and around her waist, yanking her close enough that every curve was molded to her own, reminding her of all the fantasies she'd harbored during her years in the SGC.

"If I'm damned," the blonde groaned, "it's your doing." She shook her head, the hint of fear in her eyes proof that she was almost as powerless as her prisoner when it came to the thing between them. "I tried to fight this ... but I can't...." The kiss that followed was rougher than the first, not angry, but needy and fraught with the refusal to be denied. "Surrender to it," she growled when their lips parted ever so slightly, her heated breath still playing over Janet's face, "surrender to me," she added, shifting the emphasis of the sentence. Sam didn't give her a chance to deny the desire firing her blood, just reclaimed her mouth, not breaking away until they were both breathing hard and trembling. Suddenly, she caught Janet's right hand, pressing it to her chest right over her heart. "Feel that." Harsh angles softened, the expression on Sam's face melting from commanding to pleading in an instant. "Feel how hard it's pounding because of you."

It was the last straw. Swallowing hard, Janet couldn't resist the urge to spread her hand where it rested on bare skin just above the neckline of Sam's gown, achingly aware of the texture of velvety flesh overlying the unsteady thud of her friend's heart. She'd fantasized about touching the other woman like this for so long that she couldn't pull back. Her eyes slid closed, the pad of her thumb moving slowly against soft skin. "You don't know ... how ... difficult ... this is," she exhaled, her voice unsteady. Gentle hands cupped her face, fingers slipping into her hair and caressing, the tenderness offering protection, comfort, safety ... love....

"I know," Sam disagreed. Her mouth brushed Janet's again, pulled away briefly, then dusted another kiss over soft lips before pulling back. "I know all too well." She continued stroking silky hair, the gentle caresses drawing Janet to lean into them, seducing her against her will. "This could destroy us both ... but I have to have you." She tasted soft lips again as her hands slid down, trembling violently where she fought with the ties on her prisoner's skirt. Tongues met and tangled, breathing turning harsh. The laces on Janet's skirt tore under overeager hands, then heavy fabric tumbled to the floor, forming rust red pool around her feet. Moments later, the shoulder straps on her bodice gave and it quickly followed, leaving the doctor in little more than the loose under-blouse. She shivered as Sam leaned back, her gaze touching on every inch of newly revealed flesh, eyes gleaming with appreciation.

A beat passed, then the taller woman reached out, peeling the blouse off and tossing aside, appreciation turning to raw lust as her captive was bared completely. Janet shivered, feeling the passage of pale blue eyes like an actual caress. She couldn't help but wonder what the other woman was seeing, suddenly nervous about every possible flaw. "So beautiful," Sam exhaled at last, her sincerity easing some of the instinctive fears.

Janet stood frozen, the look in Sam's eyes making the chains completely superfluous. Suddenly dry mouth, swallowed hard as the taller woman freed the clasp on her cloak, letting it fall away, forgotten, then tore at the gold fasteners on the front of her gown. Her gaze slid lower, touching on every inch of pale flesh as it was bared, awed by the beauty she'd purposely never allowed herself to enjoy before. Square shoulders, firm breasts, the faint corrugation of her ribs as they curved down into the flat plain of her belly, Janet couldn't look away as she looked at her friend's body in an entirely new way. She'd seen Sam naked hundreds of times in the infirmary, both of them careful to remain coolly professional, the subtle energy that had always been a constant between them, carefully contained. Suddenly, it was loose, the intensity like a lightning bolt that just went on and on.

When the last of her clothes fell away, Sam stepped forward, ducking down ever so slightly, hands fitting to Janet's ribcage just under her armpits. "Put your arms around my neck." The command was softly spoken, little more than a breath of air, but the look in her eyes was irresistibly beguiling. Without planning to, Janet found herself sliding her arms around the column of Sam's neck, upper arms braced on her shoulders, fingers clinging tightly to thick, blonde hair. Muscles pulling taut, the taller woman straightened, lifting her slight burden surprisingly easily. One hand spread over Janet's lower back, the other slid down, hooking under her thigh and drawing it up, the stance dovetailing soft curves together. "From now forward ... you're mine," she whispered as she carried Janet to the huge bed, shouldering the curtains aside and sinking down with her.

In her normal life, Janet had never been drawn to lovers who'd thought to own her, but somehow that raw note of possession on Sam's lips sparked a surging wave of arousal she was powerless to resist. She didn't want this need -- was terrified of becoming trapped in it like a fly in amber -- but at that moment, she couldn't pull away. She needed the solace offered by the woman she'd loved so long far too much. Body literally aching, she arched into the hands that slid over her torso, finding the curve of breast and rib, stroking the faint indentations that delineated bone and muscle. Soft lips followed and she tightened her fingers on pale gold hair, clinging desperately. Sharp teeth found the outer curve of her breast, biting lightly and dragging over sensitive skin, the rough caress sending a sharp spasm of sensation radiating outward. Damp and rough, Sam's tongue soothed the tiny injury with gentle, lapping strokes before moving on to outline the easy curve of her ribs.

Unable to resist the urge to touch, Janet slid her hands over Sam's back and shoulders, sensitive fingertips tracking flexing runs of muscle, neatly trimmed nails occasionally scoring soft flesh. A low groan escaped her lips as she tipped her head back on her shoulders, the intensity of sensation making reality blur and run together. She'd always known it would be like this if they ever once stepped over the line; passionate, addictive, and so very pleasurable it was like finding the last piece of the puzzle to her own soul. A low moan signaled her pleasure and she arched into the soft kisses that trailed over her torso, then was more than amply rewarded by the drugging reality of Sam's mouth on a coral tipped breast. Suckling gently, her lover slid a hand down, stroking slowly at the hipline, teasing and toying with the body she now possessed. "God, Sam," Janet gasped, sensation and arousal momentarily driving the reality of the situation from her mind. In an instant, low groans turned to a startled yelp as Sam surged over her and she abruptly found her wrists grabbed and pressed into the mattress.

Her eyes gleaming with jealous lights, Sam's mouth compressed into a thin line. "I won't have anyone else in this bed ... no other lover ... no other master...." She stretched out above Janet, settling their bodies together, a slow thrust making the point that she was in charge. "And no other name on your lips." Her voice throbbed with the absolute confidence that her commands would be obeyed. "Understood?"

Janet froze, not knowing what to say or do. The woman making love to her was Sam. To think of her by any other name was nearly impossible even when her eyes gleamed with an alien look of absolute dominion over everything around her. "There's no one else," she whispered, sidestepping the name issue, unable to lie and uncertain whether she was afraid of angering the other woman or breaking the connection she needed so desperately. "There's only you and I."

Some of the angry jealousy melted away, and Sam's expression softened. "You and I," she repeated, the last of the darker emotions fading and melting into an expression of tender desire. "Only you and I." Her head dipped, and she tasted soft lips hungrily, her mouth moving against Janet's, promising every pleasure imaginable, while the restless friction created by their bodies began delivering on the sensual covenant. Her hands shifted, moving from clutching fragile wrists to twining their fingers together, the kiss that followed sweet enough to remind Janet that the woman she knew was still there, no matter what name or title she used.

Sam moved slowly, a hard thigh pressing against damp flesh as she trapped one of Janet's legs between her own, the influx of sensation enough to make the smaller woman arch into the slow, sliding contact. Pushing up on her hands, the blonde stared down at her prisoner for a long moment, eyes sliding over smooth flesh, mapping out the rises and hollows as she contemplated the taste and feel of them. Finally, her gaze rose again, blue eyes meeting brown with a look that melted the last layer of protective ice Janet had struggled to maintain around her heart. She didn't have it in her to even try to resist the seductively sweet kiss that followed.

"You're mine now," Sam breathed when their lips finally parted. She snatched another quick kiss, then quietly proclaimed, "Body ... and soon ... soul."

The softly spoken vow elicited a mix of fear and need, but Sam reclaimed her captive's mouth before she could draw breath to speak. Minutes passed, the slow motion blending of their mouths a form of lovemaking all its own. Finally, unable to fight the need any longer, Janet's fingers clenched on the hands bound to her own, her tongue dragging against Sam's, surrendering completely as she pressed for the kiss to deepen.

Finally, Sam broke away to push up on her elbows, her breath coming harsh and ragged. A long moment passed as they stared deeply into one another's eyes. A strange frown ghosted across Sam's face, and for just a second, Janet thought she was starting to remember who she really was. Then just as suddenly as the odd look had appeared, it faded away, to be replaced by a tender kind of possessive hunger. Without further words, muscles flexed and knotted as she slid lower on Janet's body, lips fluttering down the graceful column of her throat and over her upper chest, every touch sending tiny flickers of fire through oversensitive nerve endings. She didn't give her prisoner a chance to think, instead using the intensity of physical need to tame any remaining struggles. Not to be denied, her every touch sent flickers of erotic fire through her prisoner, and she used that fact to her advantage.

For Janet, it was terrifying and exciting at the same time, the emotion and sensation so vivid she couldn't even begin to resist the siren's call. Her breathing rough with arousal, she arched into the kisses that played over her skin, steadily working their way closer to the sweet ache gathering in the pit of her stomach and stretching the erotic tension tighter with every passing second. At some point, Sam untwined her hands, bracing one on the mattress near her captive's shoulder, while the other plied sweet caresses over velvety flesh.

Completely lost now, Janet lifted one hand, fingers slipping into goldspun hair, toying with the silky strands. Her other hand found a slender shoulder in a slow moving exploration, the chain lightweight enough to be forgotten in the erotic haze caused by the soft lips that danced lower on her torso, outlining taut abdominals down into the deep vee of her pelvis. Every touch a fresh wave of fire licking at her skin, the doctor arched into the soft kiss her best friend -- now lover -- pressed over the soft flesh just above dark curls, her impassioned cries bringing Sam's head up and making her eyes gleam with raw hunger. The blonde drew one hand down, stroking lightly, outlining the curves of bone and muscle, caressing her hip, then trailing along her belly. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to the top of a smoothly muscled thigh, her gaze holding brown eyes captive, silently demanding total surrender.

Sam or not, Janet no longer cared. The physical elements were all familiar; eyes, hands, hair, face, body, all those she knew so well. But more than that, the soul -- the decency, caring, intelligence -- was the same, making for a sense of inevitability that couldn't be denied. This was meant to happen. Had been for years, and delayed far too long. A tiny wordless plea escaped her lips as her fingers clamped more tightly on wheat blonde hair. A beat passed, then agile fingers pressed into damp flesh, parting and stroking, that first intimate contact made with gazes locked, the intensity of the moment drawing two small, matching cries, and making both women shudder under the impact of something more momentous than either of them could have predicted.

Soft kisses fell onto the tops of Janet's thighs as slow thrusts created a deeper physical bond. Even with all the problems, it felt so good and so right. She let out a tiny cry, more of a gasp, as soft lips dusted over intimate flesh, then pressed deeper. Neatly blunted nails dug into Sam's shoulder as a rough, stroking tongue followed, toying with silky flesh that ached and throbbed in response.

So very right.

A quick bolt of sharp suction had Janet whimpering softly, the sound low and desperate, the sensations so intense simply remaining conscious was almost more than she could handle, though she pleaded for more. More contact, more sensation, more Sam. Soft and feral, her lover's low growl drew her eyes back down until their gazes locked and held. Long, graceful fingers thrust deeper with careful, but pointed strength, purposely increasing the physical bond. A gasp escaping her lips, Janet instinctively counter-thrust, her fingers clamped down on Sam's hair and shoulders, and then Sam was moving, trailing hurried kisses up the length of Janet's torso until she reached her mouth. Commandeering soft lips, her fingers retreated, then thrust again, and she drank in the ragged cry that escaped full lips.

Whimpering low in her throat, Janet thrust to meet plunging strokes, instinctively seeking to increase the physical bond between them. A shift in the bucking rhythm rubbed her thigh up against soft hair and softer flesh, and she purposely increased the pressure, the friction drawing a hard shudder from the woman above her. A flicker of triumph in her eyes, Janet slid her hands down, curving them to slim hips and dragging Sam closer, the sense of power that came from her effect on the other woman a much needed balm to the part of her that couldn't believe what she was doing.

Need, driven by too many years of denial, guaranteed that their first coupling wouldn't last long. Sam might not remember how long she'd wanted the woman in her arms, but her body did, and Janet was in so deep that she couldn't have held back even if she'd wanted to ... and she didn't want to. She needed this too much; needed the human contact, to feel close to someone, safe, and cherished ... even if it was only an illusion.

Fingers digging into lean hips, she ground her thigh deliberately against the silky folds of Sam's sex, the sweet caresses driving her own passion as much as her lover's. When the kiss broke, she trailed her lips along her lover's cheek, then down, nipping her jaw, before finding her mouth taken again as fingers thrust even deeper. Sliding a hand up, she tightened her fingers into pale gold hair and pulled Sam's head back until their eyes met. For the first time in weeks, she was on equal footing, as much the master as the slave. "Mine," she whispered almost inaudibly.

Blue eyes sparked and blazed, a tremor running through already stressed muscles as Sam pushed up on one hand. "You think to claim a queen?" she challenged, her voice little more than a throaty rasp.

Muscles compressed and flexed along the curve of Janet's jaw, her eyes burning. She cupped her hands on either side of Sam's face, taking back some of the power she'd lost in recent weeks. "No ... only you," she said very softly, ignoring the title and putting extra emphasis on the last word.

Sam searched her face as though hunting for something, but uncertain what. Suddenly, the arrogance melted away, leaving the woman Janet knew in its place. She started to speak, but no words came, and finally, she just ducked her head, her mouth finding her lover's with blind hunger. Body gaining momentum, fingers thrusting deeper, the slide of sweat soaked flesh on flesh, driving them both, she cried out and Janet drank in the begging sounds through the blending of their mouths.

Janet clung desperately, her body heaving up to meet Sam's thrusts, one hand tangled in her hair, the other spreading against her upper back, nails digging in. Mouths still intimately bonded, their gazes locked, emotions flowing without words. Low cries echoing between them, electric tension sliding over sensitive nerve endings, they had only each other as the feelings built to a climax. Then they were flying, gravity a forgotten concept, caught in a perfect moment that seemed to last forever.

And then they were tumbling back to earth together, falling into each other, once again wrapped in the real world's gravitational pull.

Sam buried her face in the curve of Janet's shoulder, her entire body trembling in the aftermath. "I waited too long for this," she breathed oblivious to the double meaning of the softly spoken words.

Janet turned her face toward her lover, silky bangs playing over her skin as she dusted soft kisses over Sam's cheek and temple. Lying sprawled together, neither woman moved for a long time, both drawing much-needed comfort and pleasure from the twining of limbs and the press of warm curves. It felt so good not to think for just a little while.

Finally, Sam pushed up on her elbows to stare searchingly down at Janet, the slight movement creating a fresh flow of friction where their bodies were dovetailed together. A tiny shiver slid through the smaller woman as she became aware of the shape and texture of the body pressed against her own, concentrating on the subtleties that hadn't been apparent during their frantic lovemaking. She adjusted her position slightly and felt Sam move to accommodate her, the brush of flesh on flesh stirring the coals anew.

Still supporting her weight on her elbows, Sam brushed gentle fingers through auburn bangs, stroking slowly, a tender smile curving her lips. Janet expected some comment from the other woman, but they both remained silent, as though afraid of breaking the spell cast by their lovemaking. Several more minutes passed while they lay silently watching one another, studying the rises and hollows, the shift and play of expressions. Finally, Sam leaned down, drinking from her lover's mouth as their bodies once again began moving in slow, erotic dance. Hands caressed and clung while lips traded heated kisses, reality and fantasy blending together, the only sound the slide of flesh on flesh and the unsteady rasp of their harsh breathing. Helpless to resist the sensual rhythm, Janet spread her hands against Sam's back, massaging slowly as she felt the flex and play of taut muscle.

By the time Sam's lips began the slow journey down her body, sweat was gleaming on her skin, tiny entreaties escaping her lips, her hands reaching for and stroking strong shoulders. At some point blue eyes rose, a hand reaching for, and twining with Janet's, the only spoken word Sam had uttered in several minutes hanging in the air.

"Mine."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Terreis returned to consciousness slowly, gradually climbing back into the waking world to find herself still enjoying the most pleasant of dreams; warm soft curves snuggled against her side, a lover's head pillowed on her shoulder, strands of silky hair spread across her chest. She pushed just enough to peer at the woman ensconced safely in her arms, surprised to find herself so utterly unsurprised by her presence. She would have expected some level of discomfort -- or at least a period of adjustment -- upon finding a new lover in her bed, but they had curled into each other as though they'd been sleeping together for years. She ran tender fingers over dark, fluttery bangs, taking pleasure from the cool, silky texture. Their lovemaking on the other hand -- she shook her head a little dazedly -- that had been anything but what one might expect from long term lovers. Not sweet or peaceful, it had felt like they'd wanted each other for decades and finally had a chance to touch. She could almost believe Lemier's mythology that her soul had been split in two and come back together. Explosive and desperate, need had rolled over them like a sirocco, burning out of control and leaving nothing standing in its wake. And even after the first joining, they'd reached for each other again, the physical need undaunted, until they'd both all but collapsed in exhaustion.

She let her fingers trail down to a slender shoulder, just barely brushing velvety skin, momentarily overwhelmed by the sensory memory of their lovemaking. After those first few minutes of resistance, Janet had melted into her arms, tiny pleading cries on her lips, her hands clinging. In the minutes that had followed she'd become an equal participant, giving as well as taking, her touch hungry and possessive. Blue eyes slid closed, desire lighting anew as she remembered the moment when Janet had laid claim to her. Had she considered the idea in advance, she would have expected to be angered at the presumption. As much latitude as she'd given Maya, her handmaid would never have dared, and Terreis would never have allowed it if she had. Maya was her mistress, and she'd never lost herself enough to forget the clear delineation between their status in life. As tender as they'd been, Maya never would -- never could -- possess her at any level. She experienced a tiny thrill of fear as she accepted that -- prisoner or not -- Janet could own her soul with all the ease in the world. She hadn't been angry or annoyed with Janet's desire to stake a claim; she'd been thrilled ... just like she'd been thrilled by the other woman's unexpected fervor during their lovemaking.

She'd expected to have to tame a woman who was little more than a wild animal -- to coax and calm desperate struggles until Janet accepted the thing between them -- not to lose herself in the touch of passionate lover who acted as though she was every inch her equal. Another soft caress ran through auburn silk, and the smaller woman snuggled deeper into her hold, leaning into Terreis' touch even in sleep. The instinctive response drew a soft smile from the watching woman as she found herself wondering how she'd lost her heart so thoroughly to someone she should hate. A tender, giving lover, the outlander was anything but what the queen had expected. Janet had shared her body, and more than that, Terreis felt certain she'd shared her heart. Whatever she'd been forced to do, she wasn't a monster ... she was just another victim of the bastards who'd hurt her own people.

Terreis leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lover's temple, then pulled back, watching her sleep for a long time before carefully disengaging herself, her movements gingerly to avoid waking the sleeping woman. As Janet settled back into the mattress in an exhausted sprawl, Terreis brushed up against the cool metal of the handcuff chain, one end still wrapped around Janet's wrist, the other end free. Picking up the free end, she considered it for a long moment, tempted to just leave it, but finally, she latched the other end to the intricately carved headboard. Like it or not, it wasn't yet time for that much trust. Slipping out of bed, she shivered as night-chilled air slid over bare skin. A quick glance confirmed that the fire had nearly burned out, and she shrugged into a robe before moving to stir the coals and add more wood. Within minutes, the flames were once again licking high in the oversize fireplace, the heat radiating outward to warm the room and add a pleasant layer of amber light. The queen held her hands out, warming them before leaning against the hearth to stare into the flames, her thoughts on the woman who now shared her bed. Asleep, she appeared almost painfully young and innocent, the image only reinforced by her physical delicacy and current fragility.

Unfortunately, Janet was hardly the innocent she appeared to be. Whatever her reasons for the things she'd done -- and Terreis had come to believe she'd had little, if any, choice in her actions -- she'd been involved. There were many in Arrathonea who would prefer to see her dead, most notable among them her senior minister. Once the affair became common knowledge -- and she was under no illusions that it wouldn't -- Valchon's flunkies would probably cause as much trouble as they were able. And if anything happened to Terreis, Janet's life would undoubtedly be forfeit. As an enemy prisoner, she had no legal rights whatsoever.

That thought momentarily paralyzed her. No rights. Just as she'd given Janet no rights in taking her. The stray thought occurred before she could stop it. A sudden wave of guilt crested and broke over her, neatly trimmed nails cutting into her palm as her knuckles clenched tighter and tighter. Her stomach muscles clenched and she fought to retrieve her native confidence. She was queen. What she'd done was for the best. She couldn't go on wanting and fantasizing about the woman, completely distracted at a time when her people needed her leadership desperately, and Janet was better off in her care than anywhere else ... certainly better off than she'd been with her own people. Her resistance had been about fear of the unknown, not pain or suffering. Terreis had been as gentle as she knew how to be without giving ground, and Janet had turned to her in the end. The other woman was a decent human being -- soft-hearted, and caring -- her genuine worry about Elyana and Rubio proved that much. Terreis swallowed hard, her eyes sliding closed for a long moment. She'd make the rocky beginning up to Janet, teach her to trust -- give her reason to trust -- protect her, and see that her life was one of safety and pleasure from now forward. After what she'd already been through, she would likely be grateful once she came to appreciate the improvement in her life and accept that it was real. Just as she had turned to Terreis in the mid of passion, she would learn to turn to her at all other times. The queen would see to it.

But first, she had to make certain Janet was safe. There was a war on; as queen, she was a logical target for assassins, and if her enemies were take her life, any decisions regarding Janet's future would fall to the next in line -- Valchon, since she had no heirs. If that happened, she would most likely either be put to death, or handed over to the interrogators -- which would likely result in the same end. In making the decision to take the woman to her bed, she'd taken responsibility for her. She owed Janet whatever protection she could offer.

Which really only left her one option....

Turning away from the fire, she prepared the document quickly, her handwriting little more than a scrawl, but legible enough to make it legal, which was all she cared about. A more formal version could be drawn up and filed later, but this would protect her lover in the meantime.

Pushing to her feet, she turned back toward the bed, her expression sad. She was still contemplating how best to break the news when the door to her inner chambers opened a crack and Elyana stuck her head through. Noting she was carrying a tray of food, Terreis waved her in.

"I thought perhaps you and Lady Fraiser would be hungry, since you missed dinner," the young woman said softly, though Terreis noted the way her eyes strayed to the servant's pallet. Elyana stiffened as she noted it was empty, her eyes momentarily a window to her worries, though she quickly hid the reaction by bustling about and settling the tray on a nearby table.

"She's fine," Terreis said very softly, uncomfortable with the notion that the maid thought the worst of her, "just sleeping."

The young woman finished setting the tray down, then turned toward the queen, her expression unreadable. Her eyes slid around the room, taking in the haphazardly discarded clothes tossed here and there, their meaning unmistakable when coupled with the empty servant's bed. "You took her, didn't you?" she asked at last, her voice very soft with an undercurrent of something akin to disappointment.

Despite the temptation to lie, Terreis nodded slowly, wondering why she cared so much what a servant thought of her. But the young maid and her husband had proven themselves, and she'd learned to value their loyalty. "Things couldn't go on the way they were," she said, hearing the defensiveness in her own voice even as she spoke. "It had to happen."

Elyana didn't argue, her expression closing off and becoming unreadable. "Do you need a doctor sent for her?" she asked quietly, only the faintest quaver giving away her fears.

Terreis instantly shook her head. "No ... she's not hurt," she felt the need to assure the younger woman. Fighting a wave of shame, she tried again. "I-it's not ... what you're thinking ... not like what you went through." she wanted Elyana to understand that hurting Janet had been the farthest thing from her mind. From what little she knew, the younger woman's experience as Ezri's mistress had been ugliness itself, not the sweet union of flesh and heart she'd shared with the outlander.

"But you forced--" Elyana started to say, only to cut herself off. She took a beat to gather herself before speaking formally, "If you say so, Highness." She started to step away, but Terreis reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder and forcing her to pull up short.

"She's fine." Blue eyes blazed momentarily, anger at the implication that what had happened had been about force or pain. Janet had surrendered to her and, after that, sought her touch. "And she's mine, now ... given herself to me. I couldn't hurt her."

Elyana glanced down at the table, noting the paper Terreis had been writing on before her entrance. Despite the rough handwriting, she was able to read enough to realize what it was. Without thinking, she picked it up, then set it back down very quickly as she remembered her place. "And you think this won't hurt?" she asked, her voice suddenly very small and a little lost, the words coming before she could think better of them.

"Right now, it's the only way I can protect her."

"This isn't protection," Elyana disagreed sadly, then straightened her shoulders, her expression becoming bland, the abrupt change driving home how good she was at hiding behind a mask. "My apologies, Highness. I'm sure your choices are best for all involved. I know you have the interests of your people at heart." It was a pat speech, meant to salve Terreis' ego, and the queen was smart enough to recognize it meant nothing.

Nonetheless, she felt the need to add, "I am trying to do what's best ... for everyone."

"Of course, My Liege."

Terreis sighed softly. The girl would understand later. She was queen, but there were limits on her power. She had to act carefully. There were things that even she couldn't do ... at least not without causing a tumult among the populace. "Go on," she said after a beat. "And you don't have to check in again before morning."

Bowing her head in automatic acknowledgment, Elyana back away toward the door. "As you wish, Highness." A moment later she was gone, the door pushed shut in her wake.

Alone again, the queen heaved a sigh of relief, reaching up to massage her temple in an effort to calm the headache that had plagued her off and on for weeks, undoubtedly due to stress. She didn't blame Elyana for her feelings, but the confrontation was a distraction she could have done without. She took a moment to calm herself. The realities of the situation made certain demands, and she was responsible to so many. It was a balancing act, and, given the circumstances, she was doing the best thing for all involved. When she finally strode over to the bed, she was once again in control of the situation, confident of what she was doing, and certain her choices were for the best, the only hint of any nervousness, the way the paper fluttered faintly when she picked it up.

Pushing the curtains aside, she took a seat on the edge of the bed, her expression soft as she studied the woman buried in the blankets. Several minutes passed while she allowed herself to simply enjoy the sight of her lover asleep in her bed, surprised by how normal it felt. This was where they were both meant to be. Finally, she reached out, resting her hand lightly on a slender hip, shaking gently to wake the sleeping woman. "Hey there," she said softly, her voice husky and inviting as she encouraged Janet back into the world of the living.

Janet pushed up on her elbows with a low groan, then did a slow roll onto her back, coming up short as she suddenly reached the end of her glittering, gold tether. Confusion flickered in brown eyes as they fell on the gleaming chain. Not giving her lover time to consider her situation, Terreis tugged lightly, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed until they were hip to hip. "We need to talk," she said softly.

Janet pushed into a sitting position, quickly catching the blankets when they started to slip and pool around her hips. "What?"

Gently caressing the warm curves under her hand, Terreis let her eyes drop to touch on the fine-boned hands holding the blankets in place, struck by their beauty and well aware of their grace and agility. Those hands had touched her, drawn pleasure, been inside her body. A tiny frisson of arousal worked its way down her spine as she allowed herself a moment to appreciate the sight. Finally, she looked up, meeting Janet's direct gaze as she began carefully, "This situation ... it's not simple." It was tempting to lie in an effort to make things easier, but after what they'd shared, she couldn't do it. Janet had earned the truth.

Janet didn't speak, just kept watching Terreis warily, the look in her eyes making the task before the queen even harder.

"You're a prisoner ... hated by many because of what your people are doing. Because of that, there are political considerations that limit my choices in how I deal with this...." Muscles pulled taut and dark eyes narrowed as Janet's expression grew steadily more wary. Considering what she'd already been through, she probably expected the worst, Terreis realized in a rush. "I want you to understand that I've considered this carefully ... how best to see to those considerations and still protect you...."

"Meaning?" Janet spoke at last, her tone far too bland to be honest. She was scared and angry, Terreis realized, and trying desperately to hide both emotions.

The queen handed her the sheet, surprised to find her voice trembling ever so slightly as she haltingly explained, "Legally, it gives you standing. If something were to happen to me ... it means I can see that your ... custody ... is left with someone who would see to your care--"

Janet's chin remained down, but her eyes rose, her gaze spearing through Terreis with laser intensity, her voice a tight, furious rasp, the anger far too intense to be hidden now. "You've made me a slave--"

"It gives you legal standing--" Terreis tried to point out logically, willing Janet to understand the position she was in. She was only doing it for the best, not to be cruel. She had to see that.

Or not. "It makes me your goddamned property," the outlander hissed, hurt and anger vying for control over her emotions.

Terreis started to issue some kind of denial or additional explanation -- something to try and make it seem better -- only to come up short. A beat passed and then she nodded. "Yes." Lying, or pretending things weren't what they were wouldn't help the situation.

Dark eyes slid closed as Janet's expression twisted into one of literal, physical pain. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, took another breath and again let it out slowly. Just watching her agony made Terreis hurt in sympathy. "Don't do this," she begged when she finally caught her breath.

"I have to," Terreis murmured and reached up, cupping the side of her lover's face and drawing her chin up. "It's the only protection I can give you right now." She knew it was hard, but it was the only choice she had. She couldn't free Janet, making her a citizen would likely cause the ministers to revolt, and keeping things as they were afforded her no protection whatsoever.

An inarticulate growl escaped full lips as Janet yanked hard on the chain binding her to the headboard, rattling it noisily. "You could let me go," she hissed furiously.

Terreis shook her head, her tone flat. "No, I can't." She couldn't allow Janet to have any hopes of regaining her freedom. "Not for my people's sake ... and not for yours either." Even if she was certain Janet wouldn't cause further harm, she couldn't release her back to the treatment she'd faced before. Considering the abuse the woman's previous masters had already heaped on her, there was no way in hell, the queen would allow any of them near her ever again.

Another frustrated yank rattled the chains as Janet hid her face with one hand, visibly fighting tears. "Damn you," she whispered. "Don't do this to me ... please ... just ... don't."

The pain in her voice was such that Terreis very nearly relented. Only the knowledge of what could happen allowed her to maintain her resolve. "I'm sorry," she offered, her thumb brushing soothing caresses onto Janet's cheek, "but it's the only way." The outlander leaned forward, shading her eyes with her free hand. Terreis slipped her fingers into babyfine hair, slowly combing it back from Janet's temple. "I would spare you this pain if I could," she whispered. She tucked a finger under Janet's chin, drawing her head up, stomach clenching with guilt as she saw the way the other woman blinked rapidly as she fought harsh tears. "You'll learn to trust me." She couldn't resist the temptation to run her thumb along her lover's lower lip, absorbing the warmth and texture as she searched dark eyes. "Learn to trust your heart and soul into my care. I only want what's best for you."

Another sharp tug on the chain rattled metal on metal. "And this is best?" Janet demanded, eyes suddenly blazing as she thrust her manacled wrist into Terreis' line of view, forcing her to acknowledge the harsh reality.

Terreis caught Janet's wrist, forcing it down as she curved her other hand to her cheek, fingers slipping into auburn silk. "For a little while..." she said carefully. She leaned closer, mouth finding her prisoner's, the kiss that followed coaxing and tender. "...while we both learn to trust." Arousal surging back to life, she kissed Janet again, tugging the slave contract from unresisting fingers and laying it on the bedside table. Hands came up to stop her, but she caught them easily and looped the length of chain around Janet's free wrist, then used one hand to pin both arms above her head as she pushed her back down, controlling the sensual battle simply and effectively. "You can't deny me," she whispered, then reclaimed soft lips, the caresses that followed tenderly seductive in contrast to the unbending way she held Janet captive. Fingers sliding lower, she brushed the blankets aside to explore freely, trailing soft caresses over silky skin. Easily containing any struggles, she refused to give way, but at the same time was as gentle and tender as she knew how to be. Their bodies knew where they belonged, political needs be damned. She just had to make the outlander see that.

"Don't," Janet pleaded long minutes later when the silky kisses finally broke, but her voice was unsteady with need, and agile fingers found her body slick and ready for the slow, pressing entrance that followed.

"Shhh," Terreis breathed, sharing another slow kiss as she spread her other hand over Janet's chest, her touch ranging over soft curves, stroking and teasing. Palming a perfect breast, she felt the firm press of a swollen nipple into the center of her hand and massaged slowly, feeling the way flesh became even firmer under her touch. "Your body knows the truth ... and, given time, your heart and mind will accept it as well." Maintaining the gentle pressure on her lover's chest, she broke the kiss, shifting, her mouth brushing lower on perfect curves. She expected the momentary resistance and dealt with it easily, powerful hands containing the small struggles, then absorbing the sharp spasm that shook her lover when she dipped her tongue into slick flesh. Janet was hers; she could taste, feel, and hear the evidence of it in moist flesh and delicate cries of passion. Driven by needs she couldn't even begin to understand, she stroked and teased until her lover surrendered completely. As she heard Janet's cry, she let go of the binding chain and soon felt the pull of a strong hand in her hair.

After that, their lovemaking slid from one moment to the next with desperate passion -- never quite stopping, just slowing, then accelerating again -- until both women were trembling and spent.

Her body thoroughly and completely sated -- at least for the moment -- Terreis leaned against the headboard, sitting up, Janet ensconced safely between her thighs and spooned up against her chest. The fire had long since died down, leaving the room to chill once again, and she tugged the blankets back up until the thick fabric settled around them. Slipping her fingers through Janet's sweat damp hair, she noted the way it caught any remaining glow from the fire, gilding the delicate strands to a fiery bronze. Completely and utterly at peace, she rested her chin on a narrow shoulder, then turned her head to press lazy kisses onto the curve of her new lover's throat and let her hands amble slowly over easy curves. "Breathing again?" she drawled between soft, sucking kisses.

"Just barely," Janet murmured, her tone distant, though she didn't resist when her head was tugged more firmly against a supportive shoulder.

Terreis ran a hand lightly up and down Janet's arm, stroking slowly, taking her time to enjoy the sensual pleasure. "You are so beautiful," she whispered and trailed her hand back up, gently petting mussed auburn hair back from a rounded cheek, then tugging her lover's chin around to share a slow kiss. "I never thought to find this," she admitted, then snatched another quick kiss, "certainly not..." she paused momentarily, trying to decide on how to phrase it without bringing up the obvious difficulties in their relationship, "...so unexpectedly." Another soft kiss followed, giving and sweet.

"Unexpected," Janet repeated, and dark brown eyes slid closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "It certainly is that," she murmured, her voice ghostly soft.

Terreis pressed a kiss to her temple, then froze as she felt the woman in her arms stiffen. Blue eyes rose and a frown creased her brow as she realized Janet had raised the handcuffed wrist -- apparently intending to reach back -- only to freeze as she saw the gold etched manacle. She was staring at it silently, her expression fixed in a look of disbelief as though she'd managed to forget the chains for awhile. As Terreis watched, she slowly turned her hand, palm inward, revealing the delicate lock, flexed her hand into a fist, then opened it again. A harsh shudder shook her body.

Suddenly ashamed of herself, Terreis barely resisted the urge to make the other woman put her arm back down so she didn't have to face the reality of her own choices. She'd put that manacle there ... and it was her decision to keep it there. "It's only for a little while," she offered what comfort she could.

Janet flinched as though struck, her gaze still locked on the glittering shackle. "Take it off," she husked at last, her breathing suddenly sounding tight and forced, every muscle in her body spring-steel taut.

"Soon--" Terreis began, her voice soft and soothing, but Janet interrupted sharply.

"Please ... get if off ... now. Don't make me...." her voice cracked to a panicky halt and she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "Please," she said again, the quality of her plea heartrending.

Feeling the harsh tremors that continued to wrack her prisoner's slender frame, Terreis suddenly couldn't follow through on the intention to keep her locked up, not when it caused so much pain. "Okay," she soothed as she reached up to free the key hanging on the chain around her throat. "It's all right. I'll have you out of those in a moment." She caught Janet's wrist with her other hand, tugging it closer as she unlocked the cuff. Another hard quake rattled the woman in her arms. "Shhh, it's okay," Terreis said to calm her fears as she fought to get the tiny key in the lock. "You'll be all right." Finally, the cuff opened under her hands and she tugged it free. Careless of where it landed, she tossed the shackle aside, the key still in the lock. "It's all right," she whispered over and over as she tugged the smaller woman closer, tucking her head into the curve of one shoulder and rubbing her back tenderly. Janet started to struggle, but Terreis refused to let go, holding her tightly as she soothed and comforted as best she could. The gentle solace continued until Janet sagged in her arms, the fight draining out of her. As she held the exhausted, limp woman, she silently cursed the bastards that had hurt her, certain that she'd flashbacked on the treatment she'd received from her last master. Images of how Janet must have been abused to react so badly playing in her head, she couldn't contain a soft growl, furious at her lover's phantom tormentors. Finally, she rested her hand along the side of her lover's face, guiding her chin up until their eyes met. "Okay now?" she asked worriedly, the anger fading in the face of the need to offer comfort. She could punish their enemies later. Right now, her lover needed her.

A dozen different expressions quicksilvered across delicate features as Janet struggled to find an answer, none of them a comfort to the woman holding her so carefully. Finally, she just shook her head, her tone hopeless as she whispered, "This shouldn't have happened."

"You're wrong," Terreis disagreed, her hold tightening possessively. "This is exactly what needed to happen ... you and I ... together. I don't know what they did to you, but, clearly, the best thing for you is to be free of your previous masters--"

An inarticulate growl exploded from Janet's lips. "I don't have any masters ... and I'm not a slave!" She tried to shake Terreis off, but the queen only strengthened her hold, refusing to let go.

Frustrated by the denial, Terreis drew Janet's chin back up. "Then what?" she demanded angrily. "Tell me who and what you are." Her eyes flashed possessively, and the words came out as a royal command. Janet was hers now. No more half truths and denials.

"Why bother?" Janet shot back, her own frustration making her tone raw. "You won't believe me ... and when I answer your questions, you just get angry."

"Because I want the truth," Terreis shot back impatiently. Was she supposed to tolerate more lies?

Another angry growl escaped the smaller woman's lips. "I haven't lied to you ... about anything," she hissed, turning away from Terreis and leaning forward, her back stiff with anger. "I may not have told you everything ... but I haven't lied."

Terreis' first impulse was to issue an accusation reminding the outlander where and how she'd been taken, but she tamped it down, instead taking a deep breath and keeping her voice even as she spoke. "Then tell me everything ... your version of the truth ... complete and unvarnished. Give me the tools to fight the people who hurt you and so many others." Janet had to see that she could only act on whatever information she had.

Janet shook her head stiffly, then folded her arms on her upthrust knees to make a platform for her chin. "It's pointless," she said hopelessly.

"No ... I can help you if you just trust me," Terreis implored, touched by the hurt in the other woman's voice in spite of herself. Her touch light, she ran her fingers down Janet's back, following the graceful track made by her spine, the tender caress intended to soothe shredded emotions. "Talk to me ... give me a chance. I'll listen."

Janet flashed a suspicious look over her shoulder, silently reminding Terreis that she had reason to doubt the promise, no matter how honestly it was offered.

"You have my word," Terreis said as sincerely as she was able, nearly pleading as she added, "Just tell me the truth." She wanted to know what was going on in the other woman's head. She caught glimpses of it now and then, but not enough to let her put the picture together, and she hated the sense of being blocked out. She wanted to know everything possible about the woman now sharing her bed.

Janet sighed heavily, turning away again. A long moment of silence followed and the queen feared her plea had fallen on deaf ears, then finally, the outlander cleared her throat. "I'm not part of any killing," she denied, sounding exhausted by the whole subject. "None of my people are. We're explorers."

Tamping down the urge to disagree, Terreis simply said, "All right," though she knew by the way Janet tensed that the other woman heard the obvious doubt in her voice.

The outlander didn't rise to the bait, though it took some self-control if her annoyed sigh was any gauge. "Normally, four person teams go through the gate ... to make contacts with other worlds...." She glanced back, staring at Terreis for a long moment as though she expected something of her.

"And you're a part of one of these teams?" the queen asked at last to fill the void.

Janet shook her head, then turned around, resting her chin on her folded arms once again. "No. I'm the chief medical officer on our home base. Normally, I don't travel through the gate."

Frowning, Terreis considered that information. "Then why did you come here?"

"The team that came through ... they found the people ravaged by a pox very similar to a plague once found on my own world. Because of that prior experience, we were able to synthesize an effective vaccine. I came through the gate to supervise the operation ... only there was a lot more wrong than just the plague. The people were half starved, not enough water or food, sick, scared of something, though they wouldn't tell us what...." She made a tiny sound of disgust. "We were just trying to help ... and paid the price."

Terreis shook her head. "That makes no sense," she argued, wondering why Janet would try and tell such an obvious lie. "We've had no plague in Arrathonea ... nor are my people starving ... or scared," she added with extra emphasis before continuing, "at least not of their leaders. Things are difficult right now because of the attacks, but it's not the nightmare you're describing."

Janet didn't argue, simply waited until Terreis had finished before continuing. "We brought additional personnel over to try and repair their systems so they could get water to the fields ... and I set up a small clinic ... but the people were scared...." She glanced back, once again leaving Terreis with the sense that something was expected of her. "I was using an abandoned building ... doing what I could for any patients who came in. We'd been there roughly a week when a man named Tecal arrived, claiming his son had fallen and needed a doctor ... so I gathered what I needed and went--"

"Your commander allowed you to accompany an unknown man ... alone ... on an alien world ... where the citizenry you'd encountered was already afraid?" Terreis said doubtfully. It seemed an unlikely scenario at best ... and if any of it were true, her commanding officer deserved to be horsewhipped for allowing her to go into an unknown situation alone.

"My guard had been recalled to help with the repairs," Janet said softly. "But another officer went with me ... a woman named Samantha Carter...." Again she flashed a look that demanded something of the queen, though Terreis was at a loss to know what.

Frowning, Terreis canted her head to one side, struggling to put aside her automatic prejudices and honestly assess what Janet was telling her. She stared deeply into brown eyes, jealousy flaring in the pit of her stomach as she saw something she didn't like at all. "She meant something to you," she said at last, other issues momentarily forgotten.

"She was a friend," Janet confirmed, her voice softening instinctively in a way that did nothing to ease the queen's fears.

A firm headshake denied the simple claim. "She was more than that, I think," Terreis said softly, amazed by how much the idea hurt. "Your lover?" she demanded through gritted teeth. She hadn't considered the possibility that there was someone else out there that had some claim on her prisoner's affections and the idea did not appeal.

"We cared for one another," Janet allowed, still watching Terreis closely, "but no ... we weren't lovers." She abruptly looked away, hiding the emotion in her eyes.

One hand fisting tightly in an effort to control her frustration, Terreis forced the dark emotions down by reminding herself of what she'd just shared with this woman. Whoever Samantha Carter was, if they truly hadn't been lovers, then she was out of the running for that place in Janet's life. That thought calmed her ... because she had no intention of sharing. "But you wished to be?" she asked, even though she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

Another odd look was thrown over Janet's shoulder. "Circumstances didn't allow it," she sidestepped the question neatly.

"But you wished it?" Terreis pressed, needing to know the answer even though she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Liquid brown eyes focused on the queen, drawing her in and refusing to let go. "I love her," she said very softly, "more than my life."

The words felt like an actual blow, their impact cruel enough to leave Terreis reeling. "Then why weren't you lovers?" she whispered, unable to believe anyone would reject the raw emotion she saw in the other woman's eyes.

"It wasn't possible," Janet said softly, then looked away again, "homosexual relations are grounds for dismissal from the service in my country ... and our jobs were important to us both."

The queen's lip lifted in a sneer. "Then she was a fool," she disparaged, envy for the unknown woman forming an angry knot in her stomach. "I would never have accepted so inconsequential a reason for denying your love--"

"It wasn't like that," Janet snapped, the hopeless note giving way to anger. A beat passed, then her voice softened, the words coming in hesitant, staggered syllables. "It was ... she was ... our work was important ... larger than either of us ... and we had everything but ... that...."

In spite of her jealousy, Terreis was touched by the other woman's obvious pain. "You said she was with you," she said after a beat, not wanting to think about the longing in her lover's voice. "What happened then?"

A beat passed, then Janet continued, the words coming out halting and a little uncertain, as though she wasn't entirely confident of reality, but not like a lie. "It was a trick. We followed Tecal into a nearby quarry ... where I could see what looked like a child's body ... but when I went to him, it was just rags...." She paused momentarily, taking a second to regain control over frazzled emotions. "Men appeared out of hiding places and attacked. Something was held over my face .... I was drugged...." She trailed off and was silent for long enough that Terreis considered pressing her, only to conclude it was best to let her proceed at her own pace. "After that, I don't remember much." She ruffled her hair, a tiny shudder working its way down her spine. "Voices ... trying to ... make me listen ... affect my thoughts...." Her voice grew steadily more distant and flat, something about her tone sending a bolt of horror through the queen. "And darkness ... total darkness ... for days ... weeks maybe. I don't really know. I didn't know ... wh-who'd taken us ... or why ... I was starving ... thirsty all the time ... poisoned and tortured sometimes...." She fell silent again. "...scared for my sanity..." she added, her voice ragged, as though the words were dragged out of her. "...and I didn't even know why ... or who was doing it to me...." Her voice trailed off, and she buried her face in her arms.

Terreis swallowed hard, horrified by what she was hearing. Her touch tentative, she reached out again, slowly stroking Janet's back, her doubts suddenly forgotten. Her lover's pain was too real for her to doubt the truth of the story ... and it made a perverse kind of sense. Janet had never shown any sign of being a cruel killer the way the other outlanders were. She'd been kind and solicitous to the servants, had barely even fought back when Terreis had lost her temper. Hell, Valchon had been ready to gut her, and she'd held her temper and avoided the conflict. "Our attackers must have taken you on another world," she said at last, struggling to fit the pieces of the puzzle together in a way that made sense. Janet couldn't possibly be referring to Arrathonea. Her people weren't starving, suffering a plague, or frightened of their leaders. Most likely their attackers moved from world to world, ravaging those they found, stealing, conquering, killing. Janet had been in their way, so they'd taken her and thought to use her. "Kept you drugged ... then left you behind for their own reasons." She continued the gentle caresses, stroking soft flesh, both taking and offering comfort in the light contact. "It must have been awful, but you're safe now."

The quiet proclamation brought a soft, grim laugh full of bitter hurt.

Terreis suddenly remembered that Janet hadn't been alone. Despite her jealousy, her heart clenched at the thought that her lover might have lost someone she clearly cared for so much, might have even seen her die. "This Samantha Carter ... was she killed?"

Janet tensed fractionally and twisted to direct another odd look Terreis' way. "I don't think so," she said very softly, something about her look making the queen cringe ever so slightly. "But I don't ... know ... what happened to her."

"I hope ... hope that she's safe," she said at last. There was little more comfort Terreis could offer. She didn't want her lover to suffer any more pain, and she bore the unknown woman no ill will, but at the same time, there had been so much love in Janet's voice when she spoke of her colleague that it made her ache with envy. She wanted all that love and need for herself and no one else.

Janet's frown deepened. "I do too," she exhaled, then turned her head forward, pillowing it on her arms. A long moment passed, then she spoke softly, depression underlying her tone. "Let me go."

Terreis fought a burst of resentful hurt that the other woman was begging to leave after what they'd shared. "I can't ... even if your story's true ... you have nowhere to go. It can't be Arrathonea you described, which means your people aren't here ... and you've no way to signal them."

"I know the gate coordinates to get home," Janet said simply.

Refusing to consider that option, Terreis' brain was already racing. She curved a hand to Janet's shoulder, clinging as though she feared her captive might make a break for it right then and there. "Even with the coordinates, you have no way to signal them to allow you through safely ... you'd be killed if you tried."

Janet stiffened and looked over her shoulder. "How do you know the gate's blocked on our end?"

Terreis blinked, not knowing where the sense came from, but absolutely certain that stepping through the gate without sending some kind of warning would prove fatal. "I-it only makes sense," she stammered, hunting her mind for an explanation and working her way through it out loud. "Any government with the technology to move back and forth through the gate ... exploring and making contact with other worlds would have to be aware of the risk of making enemies or incurring an attack ... and guard against it." She frowned, her head tipping to one side. "They must have a signaling system ... so it can be lowered for teams coming and going since explorers might not be able to stick to the rigid time constraints required to use a schedule to come and go." She raised an eyebrow as she politely inquired, "Am I right?"

She received a hesitant nod in return. "Yes."

Terreis canted her head slightly as she absorbed the admission, glad she'd relied on logic to disarm the request. "Then you can't return to your people safely." Janet could hardly blame her for protecting her life. "And I won't release you to more harm," she said firmly.

Janet turned away again, though it was impossible to miss the tension that knotted every muscle in her body.

Terreis scooted forward, reaching out to draw her prisoner and lover close once again, her hands tender, but possessive. "And even if I knew I could safely let you go," she admitted, knowing she should lie, but unable to contain the truth that effectively, "I don't think I could do it ... not after what's happened." She sighed softly, pressing a kiss to the side of Janet's head. "You're mine now ... accept it." She expected an explosion of anger or resistance, but Janet just leaned against her, shoulders slumping as she exhaled a heavy sigh.

"You'll never let me go, will you?" the smaller woman asked at last.

Terreis didn't lie. "No." She hugged Janet closer, her hands gentle as she absorbed the tiny tremors that shook the smaller woman. Gently drawing her head up and around, she offered a reassuring smile. "But you'll always be protected and cared for." She kissed her forehead softly. "I promise ... deal with me honestly, and I'll do everything in my power to see that the rest of your life is as happy as I can make it." She petted the fine hair at Janet's temple with slow strokes. "I'm willing to accept that what you've told me about your life is true," she allowed, "but that life is over...."

"And you're my life now?" Janet questioned, her tone unreadable.

Blue eyes glinted with royal arrogance. "Yes." Terreis ruffled auburn hair. "I know it probably sounds harsh," she admitted, "but fate has put you in my hands ... and thank god it did." She brushed a small kiss onto full lips. "When I think of what could have happened...." She shook her head slowly, terrified by the scenarios her mind insisted on conjuring. "As hard as this has been, you'll be all right now."

Janet did a slow turn, pushing to her knees and facing Terreis. She reached out slowly, caressing the queen's cheek lightly, then trailing her fingers down to outline the full curve of her lips. "You do care for me," she breathed.

Still a little frightened by the intensity of her emotions, the queen nonetheless nodded. "I don't know if I should," she sighed, "but I do." She reached up, catching the hand caressing her face and drawing it to her lips to press soft kisses over the rise of her lover's knuckles. "Trust me," she promised, "and I'll make certain you never want or suffer."

Janet didn't answer, simply leaned forward, forearms resting on the queen's shoulders as she found her lips, sharing a tender kiss. Groaning softly into the blending of their mouths, Terreis slid her hands up, fitting them to Janet's sides, thumbs resting on her ribs just under her breasts. The queen's breath caught as a graceful hand slid down to stroke her chest, outlining the curve of her breasts, then spreading flat over her sternum, pressing her back. "You mean that, don't you?" Janet whispered as she followed Terreis down, leaning over her and trailing butterfly kisses down the center of her throat.

A trembling hand worked into dark auburn hair, and the queen tipped her back, opening her throat to exploring lips. "I swear," she groaned, already lost in passion once again, her heart and body somehow devoted to this woman in spite of the madness of it all. Soft lips caressed her own, the kiss going on until she was weak and trembling, the effect increased exponentially by the way Janet's hand ambled over her breasts and stomach, leaving trails of erotic fire everywhere they touched.

Finally Janet pushed back, bracing herself on one hand as she peered down into blue eyes for a long moment. "I'll do everything in my power to do what's best," she promised at last. She kissed Terreis again, just barely brushing her lips before pushing back. "Always remember that." And then she ducked her head, lips sliding over warm skin, brushing sensual caresses everywhere. Nodding, Terreis reached for her lover, but Janet caught her wrists in surprisingly strong hands, pressing them back to the mattress with her weight. "Let me," she whispered, fluttering another kiss onto soft lips before working her way lower, tasting and teasing with abandon.

Tiny moans escaping her lips, Terreis slammed her head back into the pillows, fingers clawing into the sheets, clinging tightly to resist the urge to reach down and guide her lover's kisses where she needed them. "Please," she gasped after several minutes of teasing caresses. And then Janet gave her everything she could possibly want from a lover, drawing begging cries as her control was shattered into a million pieces.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Slender fingers slipped slowly through wheat blonde hair, their rhythm steady and tender. Braced on one elbow, Janet silently studied Sam's face, watching the way her features softened as her breathing grew deeper and steadier. Physically worn, well sated, trusting -- Janet's stomach knotted on the last thought -- her friend -- lover, the correction echoed in her head with all the emotional impact it deserved -- was quickly drifting into a deep sleep. Continuing the tender petting, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Sam's temple, then pulled back and simply watched her for a long time. As a doctor, she tracked Sam's physical condition closely, automatically assessing her state of consciousness. As a lover....

As a lover, she consciously repeated the thought after she momentarily skidded to a mental halt. As a lover, she was simply drawing comfort and strength from their closeness, knowing full well she'd need both for what lay ahead. Fingers still sifting through pale gold silk, she leaned down and pressed another kiss to Sam's temple, her voice a near inaudible breath. "Never forget ... I love you...."

There was no response from Sam, and, after a long moment, Janet pulled her hand back. Sliding her fingers under the arm hooked around her waist, she carefully eased it aside, settling it onto the mattress with a light touch, then waited. The other woman only sank more deeply into the mattress, her breathing still slow and steady. The doctor took a deep breath to steady her nerves, then levered herself off the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping woman. When she was finally on her feet, she stared down at Sam for a long moment, silently vowing to do everything in her power to find a way to help her and restore her memories. Unfortunately, she couldn't do that by staying where she was. Finally, she let the surrounding curtain fall back into place, and hurried away on light feet.

There was a huge walk in closet on the opposite end of the room, and she stepped inside, rifling through the racks in search of what she needed, yanking things on as she came to them. Bypassing the collection of intricate gowns, she pulled on a pair of dark brown pants, shin high suede boots that were only a little too large, a long-sleeved, black shirt, and a thick leather jerkin. A belt over the top contained the jerkin and oversize blouse, while a heavy black cloak would offer protection from the elements and prying eyes. Stepping out, she laid the bundle of heavy fabric aside and moved to stand by Sam's bedside, carefully easing the curtains aside. As she stared down at the sleeping woman, she couldn't help but question her plans. She hated leaving Sam behind, but saw no other option. By her rough calculations, they'd been missing about a month. There was a good chance their colleagues had given up, but then again, maybe not. But, if O'Neill and the others were still hunting for them, they weren't likely to be doing so for much longer. Sooner or later, General Hammond would have to shut the operation down. She'd delayed making any efforts, too weak to have any chance of success, and hoping against hope to reach Sam. But Sam showed no sign of remembering her real life even after all the prompting during their discussion of the "truth." And after what had happened between them -- she shook her head dazedly -- she was afraid of losing herself. Even now, there was a dark temptation to remain and have what she'd always wanted. She massaged her wrist, the slow throb of still-healing flesh a tangible reminder of all the reasons she couldn't stay. Remaining meant becoming a slave and she had no intention of surrendering her soul that way ... not even for the woman she loved.

Janet had no doubt that Sam would think she'd been intentionally betrayed. And in a sense, she was guilty of the charge, Janet admitted to herself. Though she hadn't planned her near breakdown, she'd instigated the lovemaking that followed with some thought of remaining free ... and using the opportunity to escape. And -- if she was honest -- because she'd wanted something for herself. She'd needed the bond between them to give herself the strength to do what was necessary. Strange to think that it was her love for Sam that would allow her to betray her.

Life was a goddamned ironic work of art some days.

Finally, she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Sam's temple, her voice a soft whisper. "I love you ... always remember that." Her touch was so light that Sam didn't stir when she locked the manacle around her wrist, slipping the key free to drop it into a pocket. It probably wouldn't buy much time, but a little. With her chances for escape measured in seconds, every moment counted. "I'll come back for you," she whispered, brushing a last caress through spun gold hair before letting the curtain fall back into place, relieved when it hid her lover from view.

She started to turn away, only to turn back and grab the slave contract off the ornate bedside table. Crumpling it, she flicked the paper into the fireplace, watching as it hit the coals and flared, momentarily lighting the room before melting into a fine grey ash. A grim smile touched full lips, the symbolic act more freeing than she would have predicted.

Then she was moving, grabbing the discarded cloak and hurrying onto the balcony. There were guards on the doors to the queen's apartments, which made escaping that way nearly impossible. She'd been subtly pumping Elyana since being put in her care, and had a loose plan in place already. With luck, she could be off the palace grounds and well away from the city before there was any serious pursuit.

After making certain the garden below was empty, she dropped the bundled cloak, watching as it landed several stories below with a dull thud. That done, she flung a leg over the balcony railing and stood carefully balanced. Decorative pillasters ran up the walls from the ground floor to the top floor several stories above, the artificial pillars deep enough to give her something to hold onto, the texturing in the stonework making for a reasonable number of finger and toe-holds. Ignoring the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, she swung out, muscles pulling taut as she took her weight. The climb was made in torturous silence, her hands and shoulders aching from the effort required to cling to the rough surface. And with every passing second, she fully expected to hear Sam shout for the guards. Finally, when she was about six feet up, she kicked off and dropped the final distance, landing lightly on the stone pavers in the garden courtyard. Retrieving the cloak, she slung it on, counting on the matte black fabric to make her that much harder to spot in the dark.

Thick, ropelike vines ran up the garden walls. Half dead from long term lack of water, and only just starting to leaf out now that they were being cared for again, they were tough as leather, with trunks thicker than her arm. They supported her weight easily and she quickly made the climb to the top of the high walls, then peered over. A narrow alleyway ran behind the royal gardens, but it was dark and quiet. She knew from Elyana that it also backed the royal stables which had a rear entrance, and could only hope that riding a dargash -- the local draft and riding animal -- was analogous to riding a horse. Of course, the last time she'd been on a horse had been during an high school stint as a summer camp counselor, so she wasn't entirely certain how much bearing that had on the situation.

The stables were easily found, the smell marking them from a half a block away. She found the rear entrance unlocked with no sign of a guard, so she simply slipped inside, pausing to allow her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. Stalls lined the walls on the both sides, and the high-ceilinged building echoed with the soft sounds of large animals moving and breathing heavily. A little larger and heavier than most horses, the creatures had a longer, somewhat pointed nose, broader forehead, cloven hooves and short, coarse fur. Thick, ropey muscles rippled under the skin when they moved, while dark eyes watched her suspiciously. She drew too close to one stall and the animal -- a huge beast who looked to be a foot taller than any of the others -- snorted angrily and bashed a hoof into the stall door in warning.

She jumped back, instinctively holding up her hands. "Easy ... easy, boy ... definitely not gonna try riding you," she soothed as she back away, wondering if this had been such a good plan after all. There was no way in hell she could control a monster like that. She passed several more stalls. Though not as aggressive as the first animal, the others glared and snorted threateningly if she stepped too close, so she kept going. Finally, she drew close to a stall with a large, placid example of the species. Heavily muscled, its black coat plush and softer than the others, it watched her closely, but seemed unimpressed when she drew close, then reached over the stall door. The pointed nose swung over, sniffing her hand curiously, its breath hot on her skin. She rubbed the animal's muzzle lightly, finding it velvety soft, and it leaned into the caress. It looked like this was the best choice of the lot. It appeared only slightly interested when she finally stepped inside. A heavy saddle was thrown over the stall divider, the bridle hanging from the wall. The creature watched silently as she retrieved the saddle, making no effort to resist when she slung the heavy leather onto its broad back with a grunt. Her voice a steady, soft murmur designed to soothe herself as much as the animal, she quickly buckled things into place, hoping that she was actually doing it right. The bridle followed a moment later. Empty water skins hung from pegs on the wall, and she grabbed four, quickly filling them from a spigot that fed the water trough, then hanging them over the saddlehorn.

"Good boy," Janet whispered after she'd finished, rubbing the creature's nose. It leaned into the light caress, and docilely followed along as she led it out of the stall by the reins.

The front door of the stables was locked, but designed to be opened from the inside, and she soon found herself hurrying down dark, quiet streets. Sharp eyes watched for any movement, but as far as she could tell, she was the only one out that night, which allowed her to move surprisingly fast. She quickly reached the high walls that circled the palace, easily finding the gate that led into the surrounding city. A barred gate was locked into place over the broad arch designed for wagons to pass through, but a narrow door that allowed for foot traffic was still open. She was surprised to see only a couple of pickets walking the walls, their strides slow, apparently uninterested in what was going on around them. As far as she could tell, they never noticed her. If she hadn't already been comfortably certain there were no real attackers out there, she would have been after what she'd seen. This wasn't a city with any fear of coming under an alien onslaught.

Once she was through the palace gates, she found herself in an elderly city, the buildings tattered, but showing the remains of past elegance. If Valchon was letting Sam out of the palace, he had to be doing so carefully to keep her from noticing the condition of the surrounding city. The place had been beautiful once, but she was looking at the result of years of neglect and disrepair.

Keeping the descriptions Elyana had given in her head, she moved fast, almost jogging in her haste, while the huge creature trotted along beside her, apparently content to follow her lead. Afraid of drawing unwanted attention if she had a problem controlling the animal, she didn't try to mount the dargash until she was a short distance past the edge of town, then she hauled herself into the saddle, grateful that the animal seemed to be such a calm creature. Unimpressed by her efforts, it stood perfectly still until she got herself settled, then lifted its head when she retrieved the reins. A soft snort greeted her gentle tug on the reins, but it didn't fight her. She exhaled a grateful prayer and patted heavy shoulders. Considering their relative sizes, if junior had felt like heaving her into the next county, he was more than capable.

Orienting herself, she spotted the Vural Mountains in the distance, their massive silhouette neatly outlined by moonlight. The gate was just on the other side, and Elyana had let slip that a road led through a low pass and would take her where she wanted to go. Only one road headed in the direction she wanted, but it was unlabeled, leaving her to hope it was the right route. Twisting in the saddle, she flashed a last look toward the palace, noting the stormclouds gathering against the night sky. She could only hope that Rubio was right and any storms were still days away. "Please let me be doing the right thing," she exhaled, praying she wasn't making the situation worse. Then she turned back, holding on tight as she spurred the animal to a lope and took off.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *