A/N: Hmm. This is and is not an offworld story. It is centered around Solitudes, so you know that for Carter and O'Neill, it is an offworld story; therefore...however, you have to sort of imagine the campfire here.

Set during Solitudes with references to Enigma

Above and Beyond

Carter clenched her teeth to stop their chattering, trying to get her numb fingers to work as she lit the small Sterno. As campfires went, this one quite frankly sucked. She squinted in the dim light, trying to see if the flame had caught, before giving up and poking her finger at the base of the metal frame. With a hiss and a curse, she yelped and jammed her now burned finger into her mouth.

"Dammit!"

A muffled cough came from the bundle of cloth and emergency blankets next to her. O'Neill's voice was weak, and he coughed again, trying to see if Carter was okay.

"It's okay, Colonel. I just burned my finger."

"Try...using...the...heat to...warm...us...up...Captain."

Carter could barely keep her tears in check, she knew that with every minute wasted O'Neill was closer to death. She cleared her throat and tried to keep any sign of weakness from her voice.

"I'm doing my best, Sir. Really. I am."

"I know...ya are, Carter. I know."

With the small tin full of snow beginning to melt, Sam shifted over, closer to O'Neill. She checked to be sure as much of him as possible was on either a blanket or a pack–anything to keep him off of the ice below. Her fingers fumbled with the blankets surrounding her CO's face as she brushed the newly formed ice crystals away from his eyes and nose. His beautiful eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were glazed with pain and exhaustion. She ached to see the pain in his face, to see the dark stains along the edge of his scarf. Stains that told her he was still bleeding internally.

Carter watched as his eyes fluttered closed and his breathing slowed once again. Daring, almost beyond caring anymore, she slipped a hand inside of his hood, gently running the backs of her fingers down his stubbly cheek. At her touch, O'Neill's eyes slid open again, his gaze catching and holding hers.

The look in O'Neill's eyes reminded her of the last image she had of Narim as he turned, Schrödinger tucked safely in his arms, and stepped through the Stargate.

Carter still wasn't sure how she felt about the alien who'd made his interest in her so clear. She watched as he stepped onto the ramp, then turned back to look at her once more. Suddenly she felt a warm hand come to rest on her shoulder and give her a gentle squeeze. Glancing up, she was surprised to see her commanding officer standing there, his eyes on the man in the 'gateroom. O'Neill didn't say a word, but the message he was sending Narim had came through, loud and clear. Carter returned her attention to Narim in time to see his faint nod of understanding. His eyes flickered from her to O'Neill and back again, then a look of pained resolution crossed his features before he nodded once, turned and headed up the ramp and through the shimmering event horizon.

Remembering that moment, Carter dropped her mittened hand to O'Neill's shoulder, giving it as much of a squeeze as she could through the layers of blanket and clothing. For a long moment neither spoke, then O'Neill turned his face slightly toward the warmth of her hand and dropped off to sleep once again. Carter ducked her head and closed her eyes, slipping her hand out and back into the safety of her oversized mitten.

How the hell was she going to get them out of this one? She glanced back at the sleeping Colonel, then reached out and turned off the small camp stove. She wanted to save as much fuel as possible to keep O'Neill supplied with as much warm water as possible. Although, I don't know how much good warm water will be. Carter choked back a sob. She knew the memory of the blood-spattered ice between them would be the stuff of nightmares for the rest of her life, however short that life might be.

Carter fumbled with her mic, fighting to keep the despair out of her voice. Her eyes swept the stark white landscape, searching desperately for some sign of life. "It's an ice planet. That's all there is as far as the eye can see. No chance." She cocked her head, waiting for a response that never came. "Colonel! I'm coming down!" With a resigned sigh, Carter dropped back into the hole from which she'd recently emerged. Her exhaustion got the better of her and she lost her footing, bouncing and banging her way back down the route she'd just climbed, landing face first a few feet from her unconscious Colonel.

Barely holding back her tears, Carter dragged herself up from where she'd fallen in her haphazard slide down the crevasse. She picked her way closer to the Colonel, staying away from his broken leg, and gently laid herself down alongside him. Her position reminded her of just a few hours earlier when he'd awakened and asked her to move.

"Captain. Much as I might otherwise think this is nice..." O'Neill's voice was barely loud enough to be heard.

Carter buried her face deeper into his neck, her arm tightening around his chest, her voice hoarse from exhaustion.

"Shh, try to sleep."

"Is that what we were doing?"

"You were exhausted, you passed out. I just thought we had to combine body heat or we wouldn't make it through the night."

"That's fine...it's just really hard to sleep with broken ribs when someone's lying on you."

Oh God, how could she have forgotten? Carter eased herself off of him as gently as she could, apologizing for hurting him. They settled in again, exhaustion getting the better of them both. Just as she felt herself slipping into sleep, Carter felt something...

"Um...Colonel?

Softly, with a hint of his regular humor coloring his voice, O'Neill assured her, "It's...my sidearm...I swear."

Carter couldn't help herself. Even now, his broken leg awkwardly set and fluid filling his lungs, this man...this amazing man...could make her smile. Giggle even. She buried her head in his shoulder and prayed someone would fine them soon.

The pervasive cold brought her out of her memories and she snuggled closer to the Colonel, desperately trying to share some of the little body heat she had with him. It would really be better if we were both under the same blanket, but that would involve...naked...and we're not going there, Samantha. Despite the cold making everything else sluggish, Sam's senses seemed to be on high alert. Every sound O'Neill made, every small movement seemed to flash through her and send her thoughts careening wildly. Her entire body was numb, but her sense of smell was functioning at an almost painfully high level. With her face buried as it was in his shoulder, she could almost taste his scent on her tongue.

To keep her mind focused, she ran through every scenario she could think of, wondering what she'd missed, why the Gate wouldn't work. It was no use, every option she thought of led her back to where she was now, here...with him...dying. Sam was afraid. Afraid of dying, afraid of losing O'Neill, afraid of...being alone. Oh God, she didn't know what she'd do of he died. When he died. The thought of spending the rest of her life in this crevasse with only the body–the empty shell–of the man she...no. Carter new he'd already faced that possibility.

"I guess it didn't work."

This time she gave in and let her tears flow as she apologized. She'd failed them, failed him.

"Not your fault."

"I don't understand why it won't work!"

"Captain. Plan B...go."

"No, Sir..." She wouldn't leave him. Couldn't. He meant too much to everyone, to her.

"Sam, I'm dying. Follow my order...pl...please."

"Sir..." She knew, then. When he called her by name, practically begged her, she know. She would do anything he asked. Anything. Even if it meant leaving him behind. Even if it meant leaving her own heart behind to die with him. She'd do it, because he asked.

The Colonel's soft voice startled her and she lifted her head to check on him.

"Sara..."

The sadness in his voice, the longing, sent daggers through Carter's heart, stole her breath. She gasped softly, swallowing her own pain. If it would comfort him now, at the end, then she would do what he needed, be who he needed. Sam slid higher up on Jack's shoulder, bringing her face to his chilled cheek and neck. She closed her eyes and placed a soft kiss on his chilled skin, feeling his pulse beat slowly beneath her lips and admitting to herself that she was doing that as much for herself as for him.

"I'm here, Jack."

"Cold, so cold..."

Tears choked her voice as she gave in to her own fear and exhaustion. This was it, the last time she'd talk to him, the last moment they'd spend together. He'd go believing he'd made it back to his Sara, and if there were a merciful God in heaven, she'd follow soon after.

"I know."

Sam knew he'd hold on, that he'd fight until the very end. They'd both fought so hard...it was time to tell him that it was okay to stand down. He didn't have to fight any more.

"It's all right. You can sleep now."

Despite her desire to be...Sara...for him, she selfishly wanted him, needed him to hear that it was her, Sam, with him, saying goodbye. Sam closed the last few inches between them and whispered softly in his ear, "It was an honor serving with you too, Colonel."

Carter peeked her head around the edge of the infirmary door. The lights were turned low, reflecting the darkness outside of the mountain. She wanted to make sure she wasn't disturbing her CO. Spotting him in the bed at the end of the room, she caught his eye and raised an eyebrow in question. The Colonel nodded and waved her inside, trying to see what she was hiding behind her back.

"Where's Doctor Fraser," she whispered.

"Gone for the night." O'Neill tipped his chin at her, pleased to see that the cuts on her cheek had cleaned up better than he'd expected. The red lines were secured by several steri-strips and the swelling looked like it was going down. He watched as his second in command, his Carter, twisted to reveal a brightly frosted cupcake centered on a small plate. In the center of the cupcake was perched a candle, it's flame burning brightly in the dimly lit infirmary.

"Cake?"

Carter shrugged. "Cupcake."

"That's 'Colonel Cupcake' to you, Captain."

Carter tried to smother her giggle, only to have it turn into full-fledged laughter at the look of admonishment on O'Neill's face. She set the treat between them and pulled several napkins out of her BDU pocket. From another pocket came a small plastic milk bottle. He patted the bed in invitation and she sat down, carefully avoiding any contact with him.

"I see you came prepared."

"Yes, Sir."

O'Neill broke the cupcake in half, giving Carter her share and happily biting into his. He studied her as he enjoyed his treat, wondering what was going on behind her shadowed blue eyes. He didn't have to wait long to find out.

"I did promise, didn't I?" While they had been lost she'd cajoled him into one last cup of melted ice to try to keep him warm. As a reward she'd promised him cake. "I, also, ah...I wanted to apologize, Sir."

"For what?"

"For not figuring it out." She ran a hand through her hair, tumbling it in a way that made O'Neill forget about his cake for a moment. "That's what I do, I figure things out. And this time..."

Jack licked the last of the crumbs from his fingers, glancing up to see Carter's eyes following his every move. When she realized what she was doing, and that he had seen her, she bit her lip and tore her gaze away. O'Neill tried to ignore the thrill that shot through him from knowing the tiny action had captivated her, made her blush. Focus, Jack. Fix this.

"Carter." He waited until she met his eyes. "If you hadn't dialed and, how did Daniel put it? Gotten a busy signal, they would have never found us. Not in our lifetimes, anyway. You may not have known we were on Earth, but you managed to...call 911, as it were." He was disappointed when Carter's blue eyes dropped away from his.

"For cryin' out loud, Captain. You can't save the world all the time, it would get boring."

Chagrined, she nodded absently, her attention carefully focused on the frayed edge of his blanket. "Yes, Sir."

"Now, go on, finish your cake. Or I will."

"I'm not really hungry, Sir. You go ahead and have my half." Carter gingerly rose to leave, smothering a yawn. As much as she wanted to sleep in her own bed tonight, she'd opted to stay in her quarters on base. She wanted to be nearby, in case... You have to let that go, Sam. It wasn't real, and he didn't even know you were there. To him you were...someone else. Sam gave her CO a small smile and turned toward the door, only to stop when O'Neill's hand captured hers.

"Hey."

"Yes, Sir?"

"I..." It was O'Neill's turn to be uncomfortable, but he needed to say this, needed to let her know. "At the end, there, I...you..." He stopped, knowing he was treading a very fine line. Oh, the hell with it, she needs to hear this and I need to say it. "I can't think of anyone with whom I'd rather be lost than you...Captain." He frowned, that wasn't quite what he'd wanted to say. He tried again. "What I'm trying to say is that I appreciate everything you did, everything you...said...Sam. Everything."

He knew. He knew she'd pretended to be Sara for him. He knew and he didn't mind. As frustrating, as exhausting, as...frightening and painful as the past forty-eight hours had been, she'd do it all over again, just to provide him that small comfort. That he knew about it and appreciated it meant more to her than she could express. Carter kept her gaze on their joined hands, hers captured within his, her pale skin a stark contrast to his deeper tan. She felt him apply a bit of pressure to her fingers, the light squeeze bringing her eyes up to his face. She squeezed his once in return before releasing his hand. Just shy of the door she turned back to him.

"Thank you, Sir. As I said...it is an honor."