Fighting Time

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own obsession with SG-1 and fanfiction. Alas.

Summary: A fledgling alliance with an advanced race preceeds strange happenings at the SGC, with devastating results for one member of SG1. SJ, and character death, only not really. All will be revealed. please R&R!


"But what does it mean, Jack? There must be a reason!" Daniel insisted passionately as he walked through the halls of the SGC with Jack.

"Why?" Jack asked bluntly. "Why must there be? Can't we, just this once, find a planet that wants to give us all we've ever wantedwithout some hidden agenda?"

Daniel frowned at him. "You aren't the least bit suspicious?"

Jack sighed. "I'm keeping my eyes and ears open, Daniel, but so far I don't see anything but some nice folk who want to help out."

"You aren't curious what they want the uranium for?"

"Carter's looking into it. If she finds something fishy, I'm sure she'll let the rest of us know." They stepped into an elevator, Jack punching the button for level 27.

"Even though we know full well it can be used to make bombs?" Daniel persisted. Jack turned to face him, exasperated.

"Who would they bomb? They don't have any enemies, for cryin' out loud."

"Maybe they do, and they're hiding it. We haven't known them long enough to know for sure."

"We're going slow, Daniel. What do you want from me?"

Daniel sighed, and followed Jack out of the elevator and towards the briefing room. It was going to be a long and difficult briefing.


Jack drummed his fingers on the steering wheel absently, in time with the beat of the radio. Tonight was team night, this time at Sam's. He smirked as he imagined her, running round the house like a headless chicken trying to get everything ready. Okay, so she wasn't quite that bad anymore, but the first time they'd done this at her place over six years ago, it had been hilarious watching her climbing the walls to be the perfect hostess.

He glanced at his watch as he turned into her road. Huh, ten minutes early. Maybe he could help with the food, or something. She was cooking for them tonight, trying to put an end to the idea that she couldn't. While he had utmost faith in his Second's ability in the field and in the lab, he was definitely going to let Daniel try the food before his tongue touched it. Not that he'd let her catch him at it. Sam Carter knew how to hold a grudge.

He pulled up outside her house and checked his watch again, before glancing up.

Her front door was open.

Frowning, Jack's eyes ran rapidly over the rest of his field of vision, out of habit more than anything else. He'd seen enough in his line of work to know that something small being out of place was often a sign of something larger being wrong.

Without thinking, he grabbed his gun from the glove compartment and jumped out of the truck, still scanning the area for signs of danger as he walked up the path to the house. He couldn't see anything wrong beyond the open front door, but something was still niggling at him, an insistent kernel of dread crawling up his spine and gathering like a weight in his chest.

He pushed the front door aside quickly, covering the front hall with his weapon, immediately noticing the coat-stand lying across the floor. He wanted to call out for Carter, but military training kept him silent. He advanced into the living room . . .

. . . and dropped his gun.

Time stood still.

Sam lay on her back in the living room in a pool of blood, a bullet hole in her forehead, eyes staring vacantly.

Jack's legs had locked. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe.

Sam laying there, in blood . . .

Sam, dead . . .

When the concept finally sank in, his legs unlocked, and he dropped to his knees at her side, not caring that her blood was seeping through the knees of his pants. He put a hand to her cheek.

It was cold.

The world span and lurched, and then everything was black.


So, what did you think? Don't worry, this isn't an anti-Carter fic. (She's my absolute favourite character, in fact :-P) Please R&R!

Beka