I smile happily at Martouf, then lean in and gives him another kiss. He throws his arms around me and pull me down in bed again, beginning to caress me. I feel my body respond. It would be so easy to just give in...
I do so for a few minutes, then I pull back, sighing.
"I really need to get up. I have a meeting in an hour, an I'd like some breakfast first - and a shower, unless you want the whole base to be able to smell what we've been doing." I smile at him.
Martouf's eyes flash and Lantash looks at me naughtily.
"I do not mind them knowing, my Samantha - besides, I am sure they already know. No one in their right mind thinks I would be able to just sleep beside your lucious body!" He steals another kiss, and I feel my mind swirl from the passion.
I steel myself and get up. "Yeah, they know - but I don't think they wanna be reminded!"
Grabbing a few pieces of clothing, I flee to the small bathroom in my quarters, showering quickly. When I return, finishing putting on my shirt, Lantash is looking at me with a very serious expression.
"Please, Samantha. Do not leave. If you do, we may never see each other again."
I kiss him, and he almost clings to me for a moment. It is cute - and a little desperate. Or is it? I feel a nagging doubt.
"I will be back, don't worry! I always get back! This mission isn't that dangerous." I kiss him again, then turn to leave.
"We love you, Samantha."
I hear the desperation in his voice. What is going on? He isn't usually this needy. Again, I get a feeling of dread. I shake the feeling. Ridiculous superstition.
"Love you too, Lantash, Martouf." I blow them a kiss and leave.
I sit bolt upright in bed, still imagining hearing Lantash calling after me. A faint Samantha hanging in the air. I am alone, of course. It was all a dream. Again.
I have been having this dream or variations of it for weeks. Almost every night, unless I'm so exhausted I don't dream at all. What is going on? It has been 7 years since Martouf died, nearly 5 and a half year since Lantash died. I had a steady stream of dreams - nightmares, mostly - each time, worst the second time, since I had not know Martouf was truly dead until then.
However, it had tapered off after some months, going down to the occasional dream, usually triggered by something that reminds me of them, or once in a while otherwise. A visit by a Tok'ra would usually do that, but it would not result in more than a few dreams, and most if them of the type I had had before they died.
That is, romantic, or downright erotic dreams. I admit I had been a little ashamed, but had enjoyed them, in a guilty way, when they were still alive.
Now, these dreams bring me nothing but sorrow, reminding me of what I would never have.
However, these dreams are different. Frequent, almost real. Damn it - they feel real. As if I am seeing things happening, almost. Not even as if they are memories. And they are about me and Martouf and Lantash. Mostly the dreams were from Jolinar before, sometimes with me being in Jolinar's position, but only rarely about myself.
The current ones? They are very disturbing. As if I am seeing the life I could have had, had the Goa'uld not killed my...beloveds. There. I admitted it to myself. I loved them. Love them still. Always will, I suppose. No idea what is from Jolinar and what is from me. No longer care.
Wish I had gotten there while they were still alive. Then maybe things had gone differently and they would still be alive.
If I had been their mate - the Tok'ra would have asked me before deciding to remove Lantash from Martouf. Against his will, I'm sure.
Actually, I am certain Lantash would never have left his host, if there was any chance of healing him. I know this from Jolinar. And Ren'al said they didn't wanna risk it.
Meaning there was a chance. Meaning they removed Lantash by force. Meaning they wouldn't have asked or listened to me either. Mate or not.
I could stop beating myself up over that small point, then. That part would not have changed even I were their mate. But something else might. I sigh.
There is something else. I also know the Tok'ra would never behave like this. Removing a symbiote - against its will - from a willing host, was considered as bad a taking an unwilling host.
Something was seriously wrong! Why have I not thought of this before?
Yeah, grief blocked my rational thought, and later I didn't wanna be reminded. But still.
Is this why I keep having these dreams? Because my subconscious is telling me this is how it should have been?
I shake my head. This is madness. I do not need this. I take a deep breath and get out of bed. I take a long showed, then get on with my day. As I have done every day since it happened. Every day since these dreams started. As I always do.